Chapter 22 #2
With her breath less ragged, she lifts her head from my shoulder and leans her forehead against my jaw.
Warm breath blows on my neck, heating my whole body.
Does she know that her thumb is stroking my back?
My lips of their own volition press against her temple.
I lean further into her, pressing her back against the wall.
Am I the only one who feels this tension, a push and pull, between us? My question is answered when she leans up and places a soft, lingering kiss on my jaw. Her touch short circuits my brain. It takes the few remaining functioning brain cells to keep me from moving my mouth down to hers.
Why haven’t I asked her out on a date yet? I can’t remember, but I regret my past self’s stupidity. The only difference between a date and tonight is intention. She doesn’t know my intentions. If she did, I’d pull her into a classroom and forget all about the competition.
The sound of squeaking shoes comes from down the hallway.
Another team rounds the corner. Because I don’t want to dislodge Stella’s forehead, I don’t move and only see them from the corner of my eye.
I expect them to pull out a camera to capture us, but with the only light further down the hall, we’re tucked into shadow and they pass without being aware of our hiding place.
It’s impossible for them not to see the team inside the room.
The four of them laugh at running into each other.
They talk in hushed whispers, then pose for each other to take a picture.
Through it all, Stella doesn’t move out of my arms. Her thumb continues to rub circles on my bare back.
STELLA
I kissed his jaw. I kissed his jaw.
I shouldn’t be allowed out in public. If there is an easy way to humiliate myself, I will find it and follow through. Like the kiss to his jaw. It was one second but I told him how I felt as easily as if I’d said out loud, “I like you.”
If I’d kissed his neck, I could pretend it was an accidental touch. But I reached up and planted that kiss purposefully. Why? I don’t know! A moment of insanity. I should be glad my insanity didn’t make me go for his lips.
He pulls me closer and burrows his face in my hair. It’s almost worse than him showing me contempt because it makes me have a glimmer of hope that he feels the same way I do. But with hope comes fear.
Fear that he’ll lose interest and I’ll lose the most important person in my life.
The person who makes my scary decision to move to Blissful less terrifying.
I’m safe in friendship with Drew. Anything more opens me up to heartbreak and loss.
I could stay in this spot for the rest of the night if not for my growing terror that loving this man means I’ll lose him.
I bring my hands back to the front of his chest and push against him gently.
“Take a picture,” I whisper.
He moves slowly, as if groggy, but has his phone ready when the two teams leave the classroom. He takes pictures of both teams, then pulls me into the room. We take a quick selfie with Daffy Duck in silence and grab the orange bag. Drew takes me out a different way than we came in.
Our next clue leads us to the stage at the fairgrounds.
It’s an open field with nowhere to hide.
With a shared look, we run for it. Drew has his camera out and snaps a picture of another team running past. I could swear one of the men from that team is Miles.
I may not know him well, but I know Mickey from Hockey My Heart better than anyone.
For the next hour, we criss-cross around town. One of our stops is an events center where I think Drew got married. Next is town hall, followed by the volunteer fire station. Then the last place I expect: the hardware store.
“Did you know about this being a clue tonight?” I ask as we hunch down behind the paint desk, hiding from another team.
“Roger mentioned it.”
“You’re not afraid of stuff getting stolen?”
“This isn’t Tucson.”
Maybe not, but you can bet I won’t let people run through my bookstore at night.
I’m exhausted by the time we reach the twelfth bust, Snoopy, outside Green’s Grocery. Drew has to jump to grab the bag from where it hangs above the door. The owner here obviously doesn’t trust people inside their establishment either.
As soon as Drew sends our selfie with Fred Flintstone to Ross, he collapses against a tree. I join him, breathing hard. We’re in view of the front of the store, but Drew takes our arm bands and stuffs them in his pocket with the orange bags we’ve collected.
“We’re done,” he says between breaths. “I’ve never finished so fast before. I’ll feel it tomorrow.”
I remove the clue from the last bag. “‘Home again, home again, jiggety jig.’ So we just go home?”
“Ross has a party at his house as he tallies points. Are you up for it?”
“Yeah. I assume our bragging rights start as soon as we’re crowned winners. Don’t want to waste a second.”
Once we’ve caught our breath, we walk a few blocks to Ross’ house.
It’s set back from the road, but has so many bright lights, you could probably see it from the top of Rincon Peak.
He has Halloween blow up figures everywhere, a graveyard with zombies, animatronics that scream at our approach.
It’s intense, and I’m glad I’m not his neighbor. I’d hate to see this every day.
Halloween music plays inside. We’re the third team to arrive, which is disappointing. I wanted to be the first.
Drew must read my thoughts. “Speed is only half of the competition. There’s no way to know how many times a team’s been caught on camera until points are tallied.”
Ross has his computer set up in the living room adding to a spreadsheet as pictures are sent to his phone, which continually pings.
Drew introduces me, but he only half pays attention.
On the TV are photos from tonight. I catch a glimpse of the selfie we took at the high school.
My eyes are too wide; my lips stretched in a fake smile.
I look like we made out behind the bleachers, when all I experienced was some embarrassing jaw action.
Ross’ wife is in the kitchen. While her husband was uninterested in meeting me, she is thrilled.
She’s heard so much about the woman renovating the bookstore and talks to me about my plans.
She’s a book lover too, and we chat about favorites.
While we do, I fill a plate of food from the kitchen table that’s been turned into a charcuterie board of cheeses, meat, crackers, candy, fruit, and vegetables.
Over the next hour, more people arrive. Brody and Roger show up, both of them a little beat up.
“Roger tripped over a speed bump, and I tripped over him,” Brody explains.
“I was disappointed you weren’t doing the scavenger hunt with Brody this year,” Roger tells Drew, then sends me a significant look. “But your mom will be happy with how this turned out.”
I don’t want to read too much into that, and excuse myself to use the bathroom.
When I come back into the living room, Miles is there. He immediately walks over, his eyebrows low and broody.
“Stella, I’m sorry about last night. I wouldn’t have flirted with you if I’d known you and Drew were dating.”
My sudden laugh sounds deranged. With the cuddling behind the door earlier, followed by the jaw kiss, fresh in my mind, I have to squash this rumor down now. If I lose Drew’s friendship because he figures out my feelings are past friendly, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.
“Oh, we’re not dating,” I say, louder than needed. “We’re friends. From way back when Drew lived in Tucson. He was a kid and I was, like, well, old. We reconnected this past summer because our friends got engaged. Well, his cousin. My former friend.”
Oh. My. Gosh. SHUT. UP.
I shut up.
Miles has a bemused smile. “In that case—” He breaks off when something behind my shoulder catches his attention. He lifts both hands in surrender before looking back at me. “I hope you have a great life in Blissful.”
He walks away before I can say another word. Probably for the best. I glance behind me and see nothing out of the ordinary. Just Drew talking to his brother-in-law and step-dad. Weird.
It’s past midnight when Ross finally shows the spreadsheet. Each colored team is along the side with points given for how quickly they went from one location to the next and a count of how many times they were caught on camera.
The Orange team comes in second. As I glance over the numbers, it’s because we took so long at the high school. Those two teams hanging out in the classroom cost us the game. As embarrassed as I feel about the jaw kiss, I can’t regret the way I spent that time with Drew.
Drew steps beside me and lays his hand on my lower back. It’s all I can do not to squirm away. Not because I don’t like his hand on me, but because I like it too much.
“We were so close to bragging rights,” Drew says close to my ear.
“Next year we’ll win,” I vow.
His grin makes my stomach swoop.
“That’s a promise I’ll hold you to.”