Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MIA
Frustration rolls over me as my shoulders sag in defeat and I shut my laptop in a rush. My chest deflates, the air exiting my lungs in a rush as my stomach knots with a familiar anxiety.
Suddenly, the coffee shop is too loud. Too busy.
Too small. Panic tangles with the knots and my throat tightens.
Blocking it all out, I let my eyes shut, counting to four as I inhale and exhale for a beat longer.
I repeat it three times, until my heart rate slows to a steadier beat beneath my ribcage.
I pick up the receipt beside my plate, double and triple checking the line items to make sure my order is gluten free.
“It was from their gluten free case.”
My eyelids lift, and my surroundings come back into focus as I lock my gaze on my friend Willow sitting across the table from me. Her blonde hair is pulled back away from her face and her sage eyes are locked on mine.
There’s no judgment in her expression at all. She knows my compulsions that are driven by the fear of accidentally eating gluten.
“We can go if you want,” she offers, her voice gentle as she lifts her iced coffee, sucking down a sip through a reusable silicone straw she carries in her purse.
My throat bobs as I swallow hard. “I’m okay,” I tell her, my voice quiet as I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m good now.”
“You seem pretty anxious today,” she states, flipping to a new page in her notebook. “Want to talk about it?”
Willow and I met during our freshman year at Aston University and the rest was history after that.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, a frown tugging the corners of my lips down. “I didn’t expect it to be this difficult to find a job in marketing.”
Willow chews the inside of her cheek before releasing it. “What about the Archers? Could you still work for their marketing team?”
Reaching back, I pull the hair tie from the bottom of my braid, threading my fingers through my long locks as I shake out the waves. “I don’t know,” I tell her with a sigh. “I’m not even sure that’s what I want to do.”
My father is the head coach for the Aston Archers hockey team and I did an internship with their marketing department during my final semester of college, but I didn’t love it.
Sure, it was an easy job and one that was practically handed to me, but it just didn’t feel like the right fit for me.
When I first decided on my major in college, it was because of my father’s voice in the back of my head reminding me that I needed to get a job that would provide financial stability.
In a perfect world, I would have found my dream job working with horses, riding and training them. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t be sitting here with no idea of what I’m going to do with my life.
When I was a child, I was obsessed with horses and I was a persistent little girl.
My father put me in riding lessons and supported my hobby until I was in high school.
He bought me my first horse when I was in middle school.
Hank is retired, fat, and happy, grazing in the meadow at Willow’s family’s farm.
It was an expensive hobby that I loved with every ounce of my being and my father wasn’t hesitant to support it, but he just didn’t see how it could provide a viable career path.
“You’re twenty-three, Mia,” Willow reminds me, her eyes twinkling beneath the lights above. “I don’t think you’re supposed to have it all figured out.”
“Says the girl who actually does have it all figured out,” I retort, raising my eyebrows at her.
Willow’s spending a few weeks here with me in Aston before she heads back home for the weekend.
Both of her older brothers run their family’s maple farm in Sugar Hill Hollow, which is only about forty-five minutes west of Aston.
She’s visiting them before heading off to Portland for her internship before grad school.
Sugar Hill Hollow isn’t far away, but it feels like a completely different world. It’s a small, quaint town nestled at the base of the mountain, surrounded by the Sweetwater River that runs along the perimeter of the town and spills into Sugar Hill Lake.
“Hardly,” she says with a laugh, shaking her head at me.
My father moved to Aston a few years ago, but he didn’t sell my childhood home at the lake.
Instead, it’s become more of a vacation home, with memories etched in the wood and stone exterior.
Personally, I miss it there. Time just has a way of moving slower there.
Like the world outside of the small lake town ceases to exist.
Right now, lake life sounds like a nice distraction from trying to figure out what the heck I’m going to do with my life. I should have gone back when I had the option to, before my father decided to list it as a vacation rental.
“I’m leaving at the end of the week. Pack your bags and come to Portland with me.”
I stare at her for a moment, picking at the gluten free blueberry muffin in front of me. “That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” I admit, popping a piece into my mouth before chewing.
“Think about it,” she says with a shrug. “You can come for a change in scenery and maybe it will help you figure out what you want to do.” She pauses, a sheepish grin drifting across her lips. “It would be just like it was when we were in college living together.”
A chuckle escapes me. It is weird to think about Willow not being here. We’ve grown so close over the years and I’m not used to going long without seeing her.
“Okay, okay,” I agree, smiling at my best friend. “I’ll think about it.”
“Mia.” My father’s voice is muffled by my door as he knocks on it. “Are you and Willow still planning on coming to the game tonight?”
I tilt my head back, gathering my hair to secure it in a high ponytail. Willow is sprawled out on my bed reading on her kindle. She doesn’t bother looking up as I walk over and open my bedroom door. My father adjusts his tie and his eyes meet mine from behind his designer glasses.
“I was just finishing getting dressed.”
Some times my father comes home in between meetings and practice on game days, and other days, I don’t see him until he comes back late at night. He tries to balance his work and home life, but now that I’m grown, it’s a little easier for him to pour himself into his work completely.
It’s always been just the two of us.
My parents were both barely twenty when my mother got pregnant. They weren’t married, but my dad told me he planned on making her his wife after I was born. At the time, they didn’t realize my mother had a weakened uterine wall from a congenital anomaly.
When she went into labor, her uterus ruptured. They immediately rushed her into the OR for an emergency c-section because both of our lives were in danger.
Unfortunately, she didn’t survive.
“I have to leave a little earlier than I planned so I can meet with the owner. Are you able to drive yourself or do you want me to order you guys a car?”
“I planned on driving,” I assure him as I turn back around to grab a pair of sneakers from my closet.
When I first left for college, I felt immense guilt for leaving him, but he was too busy with his job as the head coach of a professional hockey team to seem bothered by it.
My father shrugs on his suit jacket, securing the buttons as he nods at me with tired eyes. “Okay, just drive safely and if I don’t see you at the arena, I’ll see you in the morning most likely.”
“I’ll text you when we get there.” I offer him a small smile. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Meep.” He smiles and this time it reaches his eyes. I see him glance at Willow, shifting his weight on his feet. “See ya, Willow.”
Willow glances up from her kindle, a moment of confusion washing over her face. “Later, Mr. Landry.”
My father gives us a wave and I watch him as he disappears into the hall and listen to his footsteps as he trudges down the stairs.
When the front door closes, I head into the bathroom to put on my makeup.
I don’t normally wear a lot, so I just put on a light base layer, subtle blush, and some mascara.
I was blessed with perfectly shaped eyebrows and long, naturally curling eyelashes from my mother’s side.
I tighten my ponytail and give myself a once over before heading into my bedroom again. Willow hasn’t made a single attempt to get up from my bed. She’s made it quite known that she’s not exactly the biggest fan of hockey.
“Are you coming along?” I question her as I grab my sneakers and a light jacket from my closet. The arena will undoubtedly be cold, so I need something more than just the T-shirt I’m wearing.
“I think I might just hang out here tonight,” she says, looking up from her book, a smirk working its way across her lips. “The shadow daddy just killed the fae who looked at her wrong and I’m not ready to put it down yet.”
Laughter bubbles in my throat and my hair shifts as I shake my head back and forth at her. “You’re going to pass up watching hot men play an aggressive sport to read about fictional men instead?”
Mischief dances in her green eyes and she brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, rolling over onto her stomach to look at me.
“You know I’m not into boys like that,” she says with a wink before wagging her eyebrows at me. “Although, some fun might not be a bad idea.” She rolls onto her side, propping her kindle up on a pillow. “I think I’ve been single for too long and this book has my ovaries ready to burst.”
“I think we need to find you someone for a quick hook-up,” I tell her, shaking my head and giggling with her. “That way you stop trying to flirt with my dad.”
She snaps her fingers, moving her arm in a sweeping motion. “Ah, shucks,” she grumbles, biting back her grin. “For the record, I’m just joking around. He’s too old.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head at her, snorting. “Maybe we can hook you up with one of the players. I’ll do some recon.”
Willow nods at me, giving me a thumbs up. “You know I like my men nerdy and not an athlete, but maybe I’ll make an exception. You’d better hurry, though. I’m leaving soon, remember?”
“Consider it my top priority.” I salute her back, spinning on my heel to head out of my room.
“Don’t forget to find someone for you too!” Willow calls out after me, her voice following me down the hall and as I make my way down the stairs.
As I slip my feet into my sneakers, I shake my head and blow out a breath.
I’m not like Willow. I’ve never really been a no-strings kind of girl.
I don’t know how to separate my emotions and not get attached.
After having my heart broken by my long-term boyfriend in college, I’ve found it’s better if I don’t get involved with anyone.
No involvement means I won’t fall in love.
And if I don’t fall in love, I don’t get hurt.