Chapter 10
ALEX
The mattress on the bed in my new apartment is too short.
I am also too tall for the showerhead in the shower.
The water pressure sucks, and it takes forever to heat up.
It’s also cramped. But instead of being upset about it, all I can think is that it would be very difficult to fit Nora in here with me.
Which makes me wonder about the shower at her place.
And her bed. And the fact that I am going to find out about both of those things.
I understand that we are pretending to be in a relationship.
But we are actually going to date. I’m going to take her out.
We’re going to get to know each other. Which also means that I’m going to get to touch her, be very in her personal space, and kiss her some more.
Now that I’ve had a taste, there’s no way I could resist it anyway, and it’s absolutely imperative that we make it seem real.
If Nora is the key to making this town like me, and this town liking me is the key to making the team successful for Astrid, Nora, and me, then I’m going to have to kiss Nora. A lot.
Darn.
I’m grinning as I towel off my hair.
Her kissing me in the bar last night did exactly what she said it would.
Everyone noticed, people immediately started asking us what was going on, confirming that we were a couple.
One woman, I think her name was Jesse, was very disappointed and said one of her nephews was also going to be disappointed.
Good.
Nora Delaune is now taken. At least for the time being.
We had no further time alone together. There was no more kissing.
I even had to say goodnight to her in front of an audience.
Nora having a boyfriend is big news, and this town clearly has no understanding of privacy and boundaries, but while I would have liked to take the kiss further—a lot further—Nora obviously did it to get exactly the reaction we got.
So the plan is in motion.
I’m still going to be kissing her a lot more in the future. And I think she knows it. And I don’t think she’s upset about it.
I also don’t think there’s very much fake about her liking me or agreeing to spend time with me.
Maybe the motivation is a little unconventional.
And we both already know how this ends. But that’s a good thing.
Nobody’s hopes get up, nobody’s making long-term plans, and nobody’s upset when in April, I kiss her goodbye at the airport, get on a plane, and head back to Portland. And then don’t call her.
I frown at myself in the mirror.
It would be silly to call her. You’re not gonna have a long-distance relationship with the small-town sweetheart in Louisiana, I tell my reflection. That’s ridiculous.
You’ll be working for the Grays. You’ll be busy, traveling, back in your penthouse apartment.
That shower in Portland is definitely big enough for the two of you.
Would Nora come visit me in Portland?
As out of my element as I feel here in Rebel, I can’t imagine Nora in Portland.
She hosts a thing called Otter Club.
I don’t even know if there are otters in Portland.
I grab my phone from the counter, and look that up.
Huh, there are otters in Portland.
I look back to my reflection. Nora Delaune is not going to visit you in Portland. You can’t have a long-distance relationship with a small-town girl from Louisiana.
I haven’t even taken her out on one date yet.
I blow out a breath, push all of those stupid thoughts out of my head, and get ready for my day.
Which proves difficult, considering I’m not sure what I’ll be doing today.
I don’t have practice till six tonight.
I guess I’ll explore the town.
That’ll probably shave about thirty minutes off my day.
As I descend the steps, the scents of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and vanilla grow stronger, and I take deep breaths.
Living above a coffee shop and café is not going to be all bad.
I decide to head to the kitchen first to ask Bruce if it’s okay if I replace the bed and the showerhead. And the TV. It’s way too small, and if my teammates have jobs that are going to keep them busy all day, I am probably going to be watching TV more than I’m used to.
I may need to get a hobby.
I’m looking up furniture stores in New Orleans when I realize that the sound around me has changed.
I look up. And once again, every pair of eyes in the establishment—there are many since we’re right at breakfast time—is trained on me.
I give them all a smile and lift my hand. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” a chipper voice greets.
One voice. Singular.
I meet Everly’s gaze. She’s sitting at the counter with a plate in front of her, remnants of eggs, bacon, and toast obvious.
She is lifting a coffee cup to her smiling lips.
She’s dressed in dark green shorts and a khaki-colored tank top.
Her hair is pulled back, and she has sunglasses propped on top of her head.
“Hi, Everly.”
“How did you sleep?”
“Okay, I need a new bed.” I glance around. “Have you seen Bruce? I need to ask him about it.”
She points toward the kitchen, but then says, “Just get it. It’s easier to get forgiven than get permission from Bruce. And he’ll laugh. He moved that shorter bed up there on purpose.”
I sigh. “He did?”
“Yeah, Shane, the guy who lived up there before you, was also a hockey player. Not as tall as you, but definitely too big for the bed that Bruce’s got up there.”
I realize everyone’s listening in, so I grin. “Well, he got me.”
“He’ll be thrilled that it bugged you, but admire that you just took care of it instead of whining about it,” she advises me.
I nod. “I’ll be sure to get an extra heavy one that makes it hard to move out.”
She grins. “There you go.”
“What are you up to today?” I ask.
“Work,” she says simply.
“What do you do?”
“Landscaping and lawn care.”
“Really?”
“Yep, I own the business,” she says proudly. “Quinn works for me. And a few other guys. Have you ever used a riding mower?”
I grin at her. “What do you think?”
She laughs. “I’m going to guess you had gardeners growing up.”
“You would be right.”
“And in Portland, you live downtown in a high-rise with very little grass around. And you think the grass that is there always magically just stays the same length.”
“I do live downtown in a high-rise. There is some grass. I guess I’ve just never given it a lot of thought.”
She sips from her cup. “Yeah, I’m not going to offer you a job.”
“I didn’t realize that was a possibility,” I say with a chuckle.
Two older men shuffle up to the register and lay money down. One a ten and two ones, the other three fives. Then they each give me a frown and tuck a dollar bill into one of the jars next to the register.
They move toward the door.
I lean around to look at the front of the jars. The sign says, “What is worse?” again today, but the front of one jar says, “Biting into a chocolate chip cookie to find out the chocolate chips are raisins”, and the other says, “Alex Olsen”.
My jar is winning again. And those two men just tucked money into my jar.
I blow out a breath. “Having gardeners growing up isn’t helping me.”
Everly laughs. “Definitely not.”
“Tell us something about yourself. Help us get to know you,” a voice calls out.
I turn toward the room. They need to get to know me. Okay, well, I guess that makes sense. “I have the best faceoff win percent in the league.”
There’s a long silence.
“A faceoff is—” I start.
Then suddenly… I get booed.
Fucking booed.
The woman who starts it is sitting at a table in the center of the room. She’s wearing a bright multicolored shirt, lime-green pants, and a purple hat. I recognize her. She was carrying a picket sign at the arena. It’s Muriel.
But several people join in, including her sister, Patty, who is sitting to her left, dressed in a much more muted outfit of lavender and white.
My eyes widen. The only times I’ve been booed, it’s by opposing teams' fans, and I fucking earned that. They boo me because I’m amazing and I’m going to kick their team’s asses.
I’ve definitely never been booed in a coffee shop.
A few more people get up from their tables and come to the register. I back up. Then I realize what I did and brace myself.
But all they do is lay money next to the register and then tuck dollar bills into the jar with my name on the front.
Come on. Biting into a cookie and expecting a chocolate chip but getting a raisin is bullshit. There is no one here who thinks that’s worse than me?
I pull out my wallet and take out a ten-dollar bill. I step forward and tuck it into the jar about the raisins.
Everly snorts.
“You’ll be happy to know that all of this money gets collected and taken to the same place at the end of the week.”
“And where is that?”
“The library for new books, after school clubs, and supplies for the Parks and Rec department.” She gives me a knowing grin.
“Isn’t the Parks and Rec department supported by the city? Taxes and stuff?”
“Sure. That’s why it’s always underfunded. And Nora has… grand ideas. Her grandpa Bruce enables her.” Everly grins. “Well, the rest of the town too, since they always put money in the jars no matter what’s on the front. I guess it’s kind of in lieu of tips. Which Bruce does not earn.”
“This.” I gesture between the jars. “Is rude.”
She nods and finishes off her coffee. “Very.”
“Can I sit next to you while I eat?”
But she’s already sliding off her stool and pulling money from her front pocket. Cash like everyone else. She unfolds a ten and leans over to add it to the stack of money next to the register. “Sorry. I have to get to work.”
“Is that seriously how everyone pays their bills here?”
She nods. “We all know how much everything costs. A lot of us get the same things over and over. But nobody would ever want to stiff Bruce. This is the cost plus tip.”
“And you just pile it up next to the register? No one’s ever going to swipe it? Or walk out and forget to pay?”