Chapter Eleven
Maddox
“Don’t be a grump, Maddox,” Stan says. “Just say yes.”
He’s fruitlessly trying to get me to sign up, but I won’t budge an inch.
“It’s not about being grumpy. I just don’t think it’s fair to you guys,” I explain.
He rolls his eyes. “We can handle a bit of competition. It’s not as if all the other participants are amateurs like us. We already know we’re not going to win. Why don’t you just quit being so stubborn and sign up for the fishing competition?”
I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. “No.”
His shoulders sag and he sighs. “Fine. But you better give us the best bait you’ve got.”
“Sure. I brought several buckets of minnows for you. Did you really think I was going to let my students compete without top-notch supplies?”
“It’s the least you could do after ditching us like this. It almost seems as if you’re afraid you’ll lose if you sign up,” he says with a grin. “We are good fishers, you know.”
“You all became better over the past week, that’s true,” I say with a laugh. “Still, I’d win in a heartbeat. Sorry.”
“I know. You’ve got years of fishing experience that we don’t have. That’s why Ethel, Gertrude, Harold, and I have decided to sign up for another round of lessons next month. We want to get better at it. Maybe even go on one of those fancy fishing trips next year.”
“That sounds great, Stan. And I’d be glad to have you on board for another week of lessons. Now go and make sure you’re signed up for today’s competition before they close the registration table.”
“Yes, boss.” Stan gives me a military salute and saunters over to the registration table.
If this were any other year, I’d sign up too. I love fishing and Stan’s a good man. He’s right about one thing. It would be fun to compete against my students. But this year, everything is different. Aspen’s here, and I want to cheer her on, not steal the win from her.
I scan the crowds to see if I can find her. There are dozens of people scattered along the water’s edge already. As soon as I spot her, my heart skips a beat. She’s with her family, laughing and looking more gorgeous than ever in a mint green sundress with a flowy skirt. I immediately recognize her brother Travis because he’s hard to miss as a famous NFL star. Two people whom I assume are her parents hand out drinks to Aspen and Travis as well as to some others who I assume must be their cousins. I smile at the happy scene until I spot Devon. My blood immediately starts boiling. Man, I hate that guy. He’s way too cocky and… well, he broke Aspen’s heart. That’s more than reason enough for me to hate his guts.
He walks in the direction of the registration table, and suddenly, I can’t bear the thought of Aspen losing to this dud of a guy. I march over there as well, closely cutting Devon from getting to the registration table first. He grumbles and joins the queue behind me.
“Look who it is, the fishing instructor himself,” he says as if that’s a jab that’s supposed to hurt me. “Ready to lose, are you?”
I snort. “Lose? Against you? Not a chance, Devon.”
“Ah, so you know my name, huh? Aspen must talk about me a lot then.”
“Yeah, if you want to call complaining talking , then sure she does.”
The registration volunteer looks up at us, a hint of fear in his eyes. I flash him a smile and tell him my name.
“And your name, sir?” he asks Devon.
“Devon Blackwood,” he replies, puffing out his chest and flashing a cocky smirk my way as if the name alone should intimidate me.
The volunteer nods and hands us each a registration form. I fill mine out quickly, handing it back with a confident smile. Devon, however, is taking his sweet time, scowling at the form as if it’s personally offended him.
“Don’t worry, Devon,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder a bit harder than necessary. “I’ll make sure to give you some pointers during the competition. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”
He grits his teeth. “Save your tips for someone who needs them, Maddox. I’ve got this in the bag.”
I head over to the water’s edge, right next to where my students are setting up their gear, and get settled. A few minutes later, Aspen walks up to me.
“Hey, it’s my favorite student! Morning,” I tell her.
“Good morning yourself,” she says with a big smile on her face.
My gaze zooms in on her kissable lips. They look super soft. I should’ve kissed her when I had the opportunity. Why did I back away at the last minute the other night? So stupid.
“I thought you weren’t going to sign up?” Stan asks when he sees me.
My eyes flit to Devon who’s angrily marching to his seat which unfortunately is two spots to my right. “I changed my mind. You were right. A bit of friendly competition will be fun.”
“You’re not going to team up?” Aspen asks.
“I’m fine on my own. Who are you fishing with?”
She points to a woman close by. “My cousin Indigo. Doesn’t know the first thing about fishing, but I gave her a few pointers this morning. You taught us well.”
“Thanks, Aspen. I hope you win.”
She laughs as she flicks her hair over her shoulder. It’s useless, though. The wind keeps blowing it back in her face. “I might not win, but I do hope to beat Devon.”
The horn sounds, signaling the start of the competition.
“I’d better go,” she says, glancing at her spot a few feet from ours.
“Good luck. I’ll see you after,” I reply.
I watch her walk away before grabbing my fishing rod. I spot Devon in the distance and my hands immediately ball into fists. He’s got this air of arrogance about him like he’s already claimed victory. I know the type—always needing to prove they’re better, always looking down on everyone else.
We cast our lines almost simultaneously, and the competition truly begins. My students, bless them, are doing their best nearby, but my focus is squarely on Devon. Every time I glance his way, he’s either reeling in a fish or adjusting his bait with meticulous precision. The guy’s good, I’ll give him that, but there’s no way I’m letting him win without a fight.
The hours tick by while the sun keeps climbing higher in the sky. I’ve caught a couple of decent-sized fish, but so has Devon. Aspen’s doing well, too—I see her cheer as she pulls in a respectable catch, her eyes lighting up with joy.
“Nice one, Aspen!” I shout, giving her a thumbs up. She beams back at me, and for a moment, the competition doesn’t matter. All I can focus on is Aspen. I need to tell her how I feel before she heads back home next week. Because gosh, I feel a lot of things for her. Big, strong, unstoppable feelings. But then I hear Devon’s mocking laughter and my focus snaps back.
“Getting distracted, Maddox? That’s no way to win,” Devon taunts, holding up a particularly large fish with a self-satisfied smirk.
I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay calm. “Sure, I got distracted for a second. No need to be a jerk about it.”
He shrugs, clearly enjoying himself way too much. “Just calling it like I see it.”
I make sure my movements are swift and efficient. My line tugs, and I reel in another fish, slightly bigger than the last. It’s not a huge victory, but it’s something.
My students, meanwhile, are having a blast and seem to be completely oblivious to the nasty exchange I’m having with Devon. Harold pulls in a fish and high-fives Ethel, while Gertrude and Ralph cheer each other on. Stan pulls a small fish out of the water too, and everyone cheers him on as well. I’ve got to say, they’re the most fun group I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching.
“Time’s almost up,” Devon says, glancing at his watch. “Better make this last catch count, Maddox. Not that it’ll matter. I’m winning this, no questions asked.”
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about your own line,” I retort, casting my line one final time.
The last few minutes feel like an eternity. Then, just as the final horn sounds, I feel a strong pull. I reel it in quickly, my heart pounding. It’s a good-sized fish, one that might just give me the edge I need.
Devon jumps up and waves at one of the judges. “He reeled in that last fish too late. It doesn’t count.”
“Shut up, Devon. It counts. I reeled that fish in right when the horn sounded.”
Stan turns around, sizing Devon up. “Maddox is right. I’ll testify against your false claims if I have to, Mister.”
I snort but am thankful for him sticking up for me.
“Yeah, I will too. In court,” Ethel chimes in. “And Harold here feels the same way.”
“So do we,” Ralph says, holding Gertrude’s hands.
Devon is seething by now. “Whatever. I still beat you. You’ll see.”
He grabs his bucket with the fish he caught and stomps away while water sloshes over the sides, hitting his shoes. Serves him right.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I say between gritted teeth.