Chapter 4
LIV
It’s a gorgeous fall Saturday, and for once I’m actually off.
The scent of vanilla is wafting around my new apartment, the radio is playing the Beatles all day, and best of all, Hailey decided to come help me with the cupcakes I’m making, and check out my two spare bedrooms.
She was here for all of about two seconds before she claimed the middle room as her own. She’ll be moving in as soon as she can, and I couldn’t be more excited to have a roommate.
Truly, it feels like at least for today, all is right with the world.
Hailey is pretty happy too. She’s already talking about how she’ll decorate her new room while she sneaks frosting out of the bowl about as fast as I can make it.
I can’t blame her—this is my famous buttercream recipe, and I’ve refined it to perfection. It’s rich and creamy, light as air, and it makes the most beautifully frosted cupcakes. If you can hang onto enough of it to frost them, that is.
“What’s that noise?” Hailey asks, licking her lips.
We have the French doors to the balcony propped open to let in the breeze. Banging and grumbling drifts up to us from the balcony below, and we go over to investigate.
Out in the yard, the Stallions are hanging out while a tall guy with wide shoulders mans the grill. A big blond guy with a smug expression stands beside him, crossing his arms and pointing at the grill like he thinks he’s Gordon Ramsey and his friend needs his wise instruction.
A bunch more guys are kicking a soccer ball and two others have discovered the Hall sisters’ croquet set and are inspecting it like curious puppies.
“Just stupid hockey players doing their thing,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Hey, my brother’s a hockey player,” Hailey reminds me.
“Van is different,” I say firmly.
Her brother, Van Morgan, is a super nice guy. He looks like a real beast, but he’s actually just a growly teddy bear. And Hailey never fails to try to play matchmaker whenever his name comes up around me. I’m expecting it in about three, two, one…
“Why won’t you let me set you up with him?” she asks, right on cue.
“He wouldn’t be interested,” I tell her for about the hundredth time, shrugging. “And besides, he’s not my type.”
“And exactly what is your type, then?” Hailey asks, leaning in with a big smile, like maybe this time I’ll finally tell her.
The problem is, my type would be really, really bad for me.
I think about the horrible crush I had on Caleb Stone all through school, and wish I could pull my type out by the roots. I wished it back then too.
Not that he ever noticed me beyond those moments when his girlfriend tormented Twiggy the Piggy in the hallways. And even then, he barely even looked my way.
I hated Caleb Stone.
But it didn’t stop my turncoat subconscious from making me dream about him from time to time. I never remembered much, just images of him dancing with me or skating me around the rink. I would always wake up from those dreams with my cheeks warm and my heart fluttering.
And this is why I don’t date.
If Caleb Stone is the kind of guy I’m attracted to, then I’m better off on my own, even though he is back in town now, and he honestly didn’t seem as bad as I remembered.
Stop that, I scold myself.
That’s the last thing I want. Besides which, he’s got a kid now, which means there’s a Mrs. Stone around somewhere. And if his taste is the same as before, then she’s probably a psychopath. I feel a twinge of sorrow for Daisy.
“You can’t stay single forever,” Hailey says.
“The Hall sisters are all single, and they’re very happy,” I remind her as I swirl a little frosting onto a cupcake. “Meanwhile, there are a whole lot of unhappy married women out there.”
“The Hall sisters own a mansion,” Hailey says, rolling her eyes. “And they have each other.”
“Well, I own a KitchenAid mixer,” I tell her, offering her the frosting spatula to lick. “And I have you. And we both have Tessa. What more could we need?”
“Mmmmm,” Hailey says around the spatula in lieu of replying. I guess I set myself up to win that argument.
The banging downstairs starts again, and one of the hockey guys yells to the others for a head count on dogs and burgers.
“That’s my cue,” Hailey says, grabbing a tray of cupcakes and heading downstairs.
“Where are you going with those?” I demand.
“I know you’ll just try to make me take most of them home anyway,” she calls back over her shoulder. “I’m going to share them.”
She’s not wrong—I was planning to send the tray home with her.
I made some short videos for my channel, and I’ll put three cupcakes in the freezer so I can grab one when I really need a treat.
But these days, I mostly bake because it brings me peace.
I love playing with recipes and trying new decoration techniques.
Caleb’s daughter was actually the inspiration for this batch. They’re double vanilla that each have a base of yellow frosting with pink frosting daisies on top.
It’s an odd feeling. As many times as Caleb’s crew brought me pain, his little girl sure made me smile yesterday.
But I don’t have a crush on him anymore.
I’m happy to be an adult now and doing my own thing. If I were to fall in love for real, it would be with someone patient and kind, someone who smiles easily—definitely not a spoiled, grumpy prince like Caleb Stone.
Down on the lawn, Hailey is walking around with the cupcakes like a server at a party. And the guys are trailing after her, enthralled by her beauty and maybe the sugar rush she’s doling out.
Her brother Van is standing by the grill, watching her with a scowl on his face. He’s always been super protective of Hailey. I’m sure he doesn’t like seeing all these guys drooling over her.
The two of them are such awesome people. I wish they had gone to the public school with me, instead of to the fancy private school in town. Things might have been different if we’d known each other back then.
“Liv,” Hailey shouts when she spots me at the balcony, lifting her face to smile up at me. “Come on down.”
I freeze in place, thinking about retreating back into my own space, but she waves to me with her free hand so enthusiastically that I can’t pretend not to see her.
I wave once and then head for the door out to the hallway, wondering if there’s any way to avoid joining her on the lawn.
As I slowly walk down the stairs, I hear that banging noise again, followed by someone grumbling. It’s coming from my old place, and I can’t help looking in the open apartment door as I pass, curious as to who got me relocated, and hoping for a chance to delay going out back.
“Hey,” I call out softly.
A moment later, a big male figure is silhouetted by the sunshine pouring through the balcony doors behind him. As he gets closer, I can make out dark hair, but it’s not until he gets all the way to the door of the apartment that I see who it is.
The universe must have a real sense of humor.
Because it certainly looks like Caleb Stone is living in my special apartment now.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes lighting up with recognition.
So he does remember me after all.
“You’re the girl from the diner,” he says.
Oh. Right.
“You were so nice to us,” he continues when I don’t answer. “I went back this morning because I wanted to leave you a tip, but you weren’t there. I left it with your manager. I hope that’s okay.”
“Um, thanks,” I say, looking over his shoulder at what was my home until he barged in, and trying not to let my heart soften at the kindness of his gesture in going back to the diner just to leave me a tip.
I’m not sure what else to say, so I end up just staring at him for a moment. Somehow, he’s even more handsome now than he was back in school. He’s not a boy anymore, and manhood looks good on him.
“You have my shampoo,” I blurt out, anxious to have anything to fill the silence. “I mean, this used to be my place, and I think I might have left it…”
“Yeah,” he says, a funny expression on his face. “I might have used some of that.”
“I didn’t peg you as a peaches & cream kind of guy,” I hear myself tease.
Am I really joking around with Caleb Stone right now?
That certainly wasn’t on my bingo card for this year, or ever, actually.
“Hang on,” he says, and jogs off toward the bathroom.
I look around, taking in a huge array of books and toys. All that for one kid? If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was running a preschool out of the apartment.
There’s a table with plastic people and animals, a huge dollhouse, two big bookcases overflowing with picture books, and a framed, wall-sized chalkboard with a bucket of thick sticks of chalk in every color of the rainbow on the floor beside it.
A dry-erase board on the opposite wall seems to have a schedule on it with a bunch of abbreviations, like: PT, OT, or ST and times under each day of the week.
I’m assuming that’s probably some kind of hockey training schedule.
“Here you go,” Caleb says, extending the bottle of shampoo to me.
Our fingers brush as I take it from him, and I hate the animal part of me that tingles at the light touch.
It’s just biology, or chemistry, or whatever. There’s nothing good about touching Caleb Stone. But he’s looking at me with an intense expression, and I wonder for a second if he felt it too.
“Where’s Daisy?” I ask, tearing my eyes from his.
“Oh, I wanted to get everything set up before I bring her over,” he says, his expression brightening. “I need the place to be perfect, so she feels right at home. And I have to take care of a couple of safety things too. But the balcony’s giving me trouble.”
“That’s what the banging was,” I say, nodding.
“You could hear it?” he asks.
“I’m in the apartment above you now,” I tell him.
“Wait, did you move upstairs because of us?” he asks, sadness in his eyes.
“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him. “My new place is bigger.”
“I’m really sorry,” he says. “Stairs are still a little tricky for Daisy. And it’s just the two of us, so keeping an eye on her while I’m unloading groceries when stairs are involved would be hard.”
“What about your wife?” I ask. The words are out before I can stop them.
“I, uh, don’t have one,” he says. “It’s just Daisy and me.”
My fool heart wrenches at the thought of Daisy not having a mom around. My own mom was my hero and my best friend growing up. She and Dad are traveling the east coast in an RV now, and I miss them every day.
“My parents live nearby,” he tells me, rightly reading my silence as pity. “I grew up in this town.”
I just nod, like I didn’t know that already. Even if I hadn’t been in school with him, I would have known that just from living and working here. Everyone knows Caleb Stone is from Bluevale. If they put a picture of his face on the Welcome to Bluevale sign, I wouldn’t even blink.
Or at least I wouldn’t have a few months ago. I’m not so sure everyone in town is thrilled with him after the way his last season ended.
“Anyway, yeah, I’ll try to keep it down on the balcony,” he says.
Great. I can just leave him to it and go join Hailey.
“Do you need a hand?” I hear myself ask instead.
Helping is a character flaw of mine. I can’t see someone in need without wanting to roll my sleeves up. I guess it’s why I’m a good waitress. But right now, I wish I had just scurried outside to join Hailey. I never thought I’d want to go hang out with a dozen hockey players, but here we are.
“That would be great, if you really don’t mind,” he says. “I just need someone to stretch the netting out for me while I get it attached.”
“Lead the way,” I tell him.
But he gestures for me to go first, and I head out to what still feels like my own balcony.
Except that now it’s got a three-wheeled scooter and a colorful plastic table with a cover on it.
“That’s a water table,” Caleb says when he catches me looking. “It has sand on one side and water on the other. Daisy loves playing with toys in there.”
“Sort of like the beach,” I say, nodding. I’ve seen those before. It seems like fun.
The netting he’s talking about is attached on one side of the balcony to a hook on the wall that I guess he’s been installing. There’s a packet of zip ties on the little table where I used to keep my cup of tea while I sat in one of the wicker chairs to read.
“I have to attach it with the hooks on each side,” Caleb explains. “But it needs to be pulled taut when I do it. And then I can zip tie it to the railing, too.”
“Okay,” I say. “Where do you need me?”
I wind up pulling the netting taut while he installs the other side and then closes the metal hooks with pliers.
He tells me he can do the zip ties himself, but I stick around just in case, and it turns out that having me hold the net taut while he applies them helps keep the net tight to the railing.
I look up once or twice and catch Hailey giving me a look. But I try not to let myself get self-conscious. Hailey doesn’t even really know Caleb, since she and her brother went to private school. Plus, I’m not really helping Caleb Stone anyway. I’m helping Daisy.
When we’re done, Caleb and I both step back to look.
It’s a little weird to see netting across the front of the balcony, but it doesn’t look bad, and I can attest from the abrasions on my hands that it’s sturdy, and we pulled it taut enough that Daisy won’t be able to get past it.
“Thank you so much,” Caleb says softly.
“Does she need this?” I ask.
“Probably not,” he says with a wry smile. “And she’ll never be out here by herself. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
He’s a good dad. I’ll give him that.
Out on the lawn, one of the guys yells something about burgers and dogs.
“Liv,” Hailey yells. “Get out here. Bring your friend.”
My friend?
If she only knew…