Chapter 9
I was buzzing with nerves on my way to the rec center for my first volleyball game.
It wasn’t that I needed to impress people in order to stroke my ego, or that I was worried I’d look like a fool.
I was fine not being the best at everything.
But if I was going to show Jane I was here to stay, not getting kicked off the team would be a good start.
I’d spent the afternoon watching videos explaining the rules of the game and garnering tips on how to play better. I couldn’t tell if it had helped or if I’d just stuffed myself with enough input to ease my nerves.
The man who’d signed me up for volleyball, Bill, met me just inside the gym door. “Bingley! I’m glad you made it.”
“It’s a pleasure to be here,” I said, smiling.
A few of the team members were already there, and Bill introduced me to them. I tried to gauge how serious the players were by their warmups. They laughed and smiled as they hit the ball back and forth—a good sign. If they appeared too intense, I might turn tail and run.
Caroline had sent me a good-luck shirt that she insisted “would get Jane’s attention in the best way possible.” It was sleek and long-sleeved, and it did look good. But its fibers were knit so tightly it didn’t allow for any airflow. Did she realize we would be playing indoors?
Jane entered the room with the dark-haired girl I’d met before, Eun-Seo.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.” A blush spread over Jane’s cheeks as she walked toward me. “I didn’t know you played volleyball.”
Her blush brought back the memory of holding her in my arms last night and kissing her, which sent a rush of adrenaline through me. Suddenly, the fancy shirt Caroline insisted I wear felt more like tinfoil over a baked potato than a top-of-the-line volleyball shirt. And I was the potato.
“I’m not a great player,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I thought it would be fun.”
“It is,” she said.
And she was right, it was fun. I only messed up one serve, and I blocked a lot of shots when I was in the front row. I even made a dive for the ball that may have impressed Jane because she said, “good save.”
But the stupid shirt didn’t absorb even one drop of sweat and I was roasting.
I jumped to spike the ball over the net, hovering mid-air for a split second, and that’s when it dawned on me.
Caroline’s plan was for me to take the shirt off.
In front of Jane. But Caroline—who knew nothing about sports—didn’t account for the fact that we were wearing mesh jerseys over our shirts.
My chest with basically a fish net tank top was not the image I wanted burned into Jane’s mind.
So I sweated and blocked and bumped and suffered, all the while glancing at Jane, who seemed thoroughly amused for reasons I couldn’t pin down.
We won the game, which was a nice perk, and put everyone in a good mood.
The moment I walked off the court, I pulled off the jersey and the ill-advised shirt.
I was so relieved to feel the kiss of cool air on my overheated skin that I almost didn’t care if Jane noticed.
Almost. But I did venture a glance in her direction and she did seem to notice my Caroline-approved abs, if her wide eyes and slightly ajar mouth were any indication.
Bill clapped me on the shoulder. “The team likes to celebrate at The Sugar Cone after games, want to come?”
“That sounds good.”
“Great. We’ll all walk over there together in a couple of minutes.”
“Wait, we walk over there?” There was no chance I’d have time to run back home to change, which would mean putting the sweat-damp shirt back on before I had the chance to cool down.
Either that or go shirtless, but I was pretty sure that would be discouraged at The Sugar Cone.
And unpleasant, given the gently falling snow outside.
Bill must have read the distress on my face because he glanced at my bare torso and said, “I’ve got an extra shirt in my bag. You want it?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, yes.”
He retrieved it and I slipped it over my head. It was snug over my arms and chest, but it was long enough to cover my stomach, if just barely.
I walked over to Jane. “Hi,” I said, smiling. I was pretty sure she didn’t want to rehash the awkwardness of last night, so I tried to keep things light and stopped myself from declaring my love to her.
“You played well,” Jane said.
“Thanks, so did you.” Okay, so maybe there was still a little bit of awkwardness between us.
But how could I be expected to make small talk when little wisps of blonde hair curled around her face?
How could I pretend that I didn’t notice her expression was less reserved, her eyes brighter?
Nobody could expect normalcy given the tilt of those soft lips.
So we stood there, eyes locked, smiling but not talking, until Terence cleared his throat and saved us from ourselves.
He wore a baggy black sweater with subtle gray spider detailing and his signature eyeliner.
I blinked. I hadn’t expected to see Terence at the game. But then I remembered he’d promised to deliver the poison.
“Hey, guys,” he said.
Eun-Seo, Bill, and a couple other players joined us.
Terence handing a box to Eun-Seo. “Sorry it took me so long to get this over to you.”
Bill eyed the box. “What’s that?”
“It’s a cruelty-free trap,” Terence explained.
“I didn’t realize you were bringing a trap,” Eun-Seo said. “When you said you could help us take care of the mice I assumed you’d bring poison.”
Terence’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not. It’s one thing to relocate the mice, but it’s another thing entirely to kill them.
With this trap, the mice go inside and can’t get back out.
It can hold up to fourteen. I’ll check it every morning on my way into the shelter so you don’t have to worry about where to release them. ”
“Wait, you’re telling me the mice are going to be alive in there?” Jane asked.
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t give you a trap that would hurt the animals.”
Bill nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“Do you ever use poison to take care of rodents?” I asked Terence.
“No, never. Poison is better than glue traps, of course, those are the most inhumane. But I have no interest in harming any animals.”
“Good,” Bill said. “Nobody should. Of course, people should also keep animals from harming others.”
Terence blanched. “I assume you’re alluding to Schatzie. I’m sorry she got out again, but Herb fixed the fence and it shouldn’t be a problem again.”
Bill nodded. “Good.”
“Thanks again for the trap,” I said, trying to bring the mood back up.
The team walked together to The Sugar Cone in a big group. I walked close to Jane, and when I reached for her hand, she didn’t pull away. Our hands knew each other and eased into a loose and comfortable grip.
The Sugar Cone’s windows sparkled with heart lights and hanging snowflakes. I held the door open for the group, vanilla, butterscotch, and strawberry scents wafting past me and out to the street. A record player scratched out vintage love songs in one corner.
At the ice cream counter, a pixy scooped ice cream and used a trick of magic to shape the scoops into heart shapes, which she then put in sparkly red cones.
Jane ordered the sweetheart swirl cone and I ordered the berry sweet medley on a waffle cone.
The team sat together at a long table, but Jane sat next to me, orienting her body toward me, her knee touching mine.
“I feel like Terence just ruled himself out,” Jane said in a soft voice.
I nodded, dragging my attention back to the case. “I suppose he could still have killed her, but the way he looked when Bill suggested using poison on the mice—I just couldn’t see him using it on a person either.”
“Who do we look into next, then?”
“I’m thinking Brittany. But everyone is going to start getting really suspicious if we keep showing up at the shelter.”
Jane’s brow furrowed. She was adorable when she was deep in thought. “What if I go in and take some photos of an animal? We could ask Lizzy if the Sanditon Chronicle would be willing to feature a pet of the week. That would give us a good excuse to be there.”
“That’s a great idea. I’d like to poke around her office while you’ve got her distracted. If she’s got any evidence from the poison, I’d guess that’s where it would be.”
Content that I’d put in enough work on the case to have earned a little break, I let my attention rest back on Jane.
She wasn’t the loudest person at the table by a long stretch, but when she spoke, the others listened intently.
She was clever, and sometimes funny, but always kind, offering a compliment here and giving someone credit there.
More than once, a player asked for her opinion or her advice and she gave it freely.
When I went too long without speaking, she drew me back into the conversation. She was a good friend to everyone. And more than a friend to me, because even as she freely shared her attention and her smiles with everyone at the table, she kept an anchoring touch on me.
Sometimes it was a hand on my shoulder, sometimes just the touch of her leg against mine. But whenever she’d break one connection, she’d replace it with another. Was it subconscious? Did she have any idea what it did to me?
If I could spend my life with her at my side, I would never lack for anything.
I pushed down the impulse to sweep her in my arms and take her far away from the curious eyes of the team, where I could kiss her until she believed me that I loved her.
But kissing her wasn’t what was going to show her that I meant it—staying was. Being there for her and supporting her and meeting her needs.
So I refilled her water bottle. I changed the subject when the conversation turned to her mother and Jane’s smile slipped. I walked her to her car. And, in an unprecedented act of heroism, I exercised restraint by kissing her lightly on the cheek and bundling her inside before she got too cold.
I watched as she drove away, then turned toward my car. Bill had crossed the parking lot and was walking toward the woods. “Hey!” I called.
He turned and jogged over to me. “Thanks for playing with us tonight, you did great.”
“Thanks, I had a good time.”
“So, you and Jane, huh?” he asked.
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. I mean, I hope so.”
He smiled. “Good.” He turned to go.
“Wait, do you want a ride home?”
“Nah, I enjoy getting there myself.” He gestured to the woods behind the animal shelter. “Going through that little forest is a good way for me to unwind after a long day.”
“I get that. Have a good night,” I said.
“You too.”
He left and I drove back to Netherfield to tell Jaro all about the evening.