Chapter Three
Hazel
Part of me thinks I made a fool of myself with Grant, while the other part says, who cares?
I'm a single woman and I'm not going to let anything hold me back. Besides, what’ve I got to lose? Sure, it could make for some awkward soccer games for the rest of Mason’s season, but then I could never see him again for the rest of my life. No harm done.
Past me would’ve never batted an eye in Grant’s direction because there was no shot he would look at me. Now? Well, he still might not look at me, but why not take that chance?
It’s taken a lot of personal growth to get to this point.
When you don’t look like the other women in your life, your mind plays some games on you.
I was gifted with large curves that I can’t decide if I want to accentuate or hide.
Nothing like the slim, athletic build my sister inherited from our mother.
But there’s no changing the width of my hips, and there’s no changing if someone is attracted to me.
Like with every woman, there’s a distinct love-hate relationship with my body.
It’s a thin line separated only by my attitude of the day.
What I love one day quickly becomes horrendous the next with a single thought.
But after years of trying to tamper down those swings, most days are relatively the same.
It's my body and I'm happy with the way it looks.
For the most part.
I'm not sure which kind of day it is today.
I was feeling all sexy and confident in what I call my suck-in leggings—because they hold in all the jiggly bits—and my tunic shirt.
But since I've been helping Candice set everything up for Mason's party, I'm sure my makeup’s now smeared, and my hair’s a frizzy mess.
God, no wonder Grant looked happy to be getting pulled away by his adorable kid.
I look like Medusa’s step-sister. But… There was a moment back there where I thought he was staring at me, and not in horror like my hair was about to eat his face.
I sigh, brushing said hair off my sweaty neck.
He likes me or he doesn’t. How am I supposed to know?
After twenty-eight years on this earth, it's safe to say that I, Hazel Elizabeth Bryant, am a terrible dater.
I've been on many dates, some set up by friends or God forbid, my sister, but they always go wrong.
I can think the date went well, that we were flowing and having a good time only to end up ghosted.
It's happened more than once, I might add.
Which is why I've given up on the idea of love. What's that phrase Shakespeare wrote?
Love is rude and pricks like thorns.
Dating may not be love, but fuck does it prick.
So now I don't bother. But something about today and Grant that made me think, for one moment, that love might be coming my way.
Guess I was wrong.
All afternoon, I can’t seem to stop scanning the yard for Grant. There was one time when our eyes met, making me think he was doing the same.
It's all in my head, right?
Mason’s having an absolute blast. He invited every kid he knew to this party and from the looks of it, everyone showed up.
The kid's got piles of presents and Candice had to run to the store to grab more hotdogs.
Tony manned the grill all afternoon and was occasionally accompanied by one of the Single Dads Club members.
"You think we're ready to deal with this hotdog mess?" Candice looks about as flustered as I am. There's only so much planning that can go into a party before you have to fly by the seat of your pants, and boy are we flying.
The picnic tables on their deck are covered with chips, condiments, and salads that are more for the adults than the kids. We’ve tried to be mindful of different dietary restrictions and made sure to have a variety, but that’s only added more stress.
I survey the spread with my hands on my hips. "I think it's as good as it's going to get at this point. It's better to feed them now before they turn into hungry little monsters."
Candice chuckles. "Yeah, you're right." She takes one last long look at the tables before heading to the top of the steps.
"Excuse me, everyone," she cups her mouth with both hands and shouts over the excited screams of all the kids below.
"Hot dogs are ready and there are tables up on the deck with chips and things. "
Tony lets out a loud, "Let's eat!" and people chuckle as they move toward the grill to get their hotdogs.
As much as I think I want a family of my own, it's days like this that make me glad it's just me.
The amount of stress this whole thing has put on Candice has me breathing a sigh of relief that I don't have to mess with it.
All the stories of waking up to vomit-soaked sheets, nights of zero sleep, poop fiascos, booger bombs, and walking into crazy messes make me thankful for my quiet, single life.
Sometimes though, when I’m laying in bed all alone thinking about how I want my life to play out, I think I want something different than what I already have. Then a terrible sinking feeling hits me right in the chest and my thoughts screech as they make a lightning-quick u-turn.
Parents and kids bump into each other as they take their seats on the deck, children grabbing food with their grubby little hands and being general messes. The organized plan Candice and I had in mind plunges it into chaos.
Arms reach. Fingers snatch. The food scene from Hook comes to mind as all the little kids snatch food off platters and plates left and right.
A giant crash has everyone freezing in their tracks.
In all the bumping and jostling, a bowl full of potato chips managed to get knocked off the table, the grease-smeared chips littering the deck like confetti.
After a split-second pause, everyone goes back to their food, completely ignoring the spill.
Of course.
With a sigh, I walk into the kitchen grabbing the broom before returning outside. In the minute it took for me to go inside and come back, people ignored the spill and walked right over it.
Sometimes, I hate people.
With an exasperated sigh, I grip the broom, ready to clean up after the ungrateful guests. But a warm hand on the small of my back startles me.
"Let me get this." Whipping my head around, I come face to face with Grant. His crystal blue eyes mesmerize me, momentarily shutting off all brain functions.
"W-what?" I stutter, overwhelmed at how close he is. He's inches away from me, his hand on my waist as he reaches for the broom. And God, does he smell so good.
"You've been busy setting everything up. The least I can do is clean up this mess." He gently takes the broom from my frozen fingers. "Go sit and eat. You deserve to rest a bit." His eyes are kind and crinkle a bit in the corners.
"It’s okay, I can handle this," I say as I reach for the broom.
"Are you always this stubborn?"
"Maybe. It's a high probability."
He chuckles at that, his laughter sparking goosebumps. "You're something else, aren't you?" His voice has a sense of wonder to it, but I could just be reading into things.
"So I've been told," I retort. He doesn't give in, even as I playfully tug on the broom handle. Grant holds fast, his eyes squinting in focus. We have a momentary broom standoff, each of us refusing to back down before I give in. "Fine.” I release the handle. "You win this time."
"Thank you," he grins, full of triumph at his victory. "You go eat while I do this. Relax a bit."
"You better be prepared for next time, ‘cause I won't back down as easily."
He's already started to sweep the potato crumbs into a neat pile, laughing at my challenge. "Oh, I don't doubt it. I look forward to our next competition."
Damn him and those twinkling blue eyes.
Time to walk away, Hazel. Leave the man alone.
My stomach chooses this moment to growl as loud as possible. Grant underestimated how stubborn I can be. The only real thing that could get me to back down from a challenge is hunger, and I’m downright starving.
I weave my way through the crowd stopping when I get to Grill Master Tony. "Please tell me you have some left?" I lean against the small table next to him and peer at the hot grill, praying even a morsel is left.
Tony chuckles at my discomfort but quickly assuages any concern. "Don't worry. I set a couple aside for you and Candice. I wouldn't forget about two of my favorite people."
Sometimes I forget I've known Tony for more than half my life. He and Candice started dating when I was a pre-teen. He saw me through all my awkward pre-pubescent stages that teenagers nowadays don't seem to have. "Oh, thank God for you, Tony. I could kiss you."
His face scrunches in a look of horror. "Please don't."
Laughter bubbles from my throat at his expression. I only meant it as a joke, but he looks scared that I'll actually do it. "You might have to keep one eye open," I tease playfully as he puts two hotdogs on my plate.
"I'm not worried, I'll sick my club on you. They'll cover my back."
"Ha! Please do. I wouldn't mind that one bit." I don't think any girl would turn down Wells, Cole, or Grant. Those men are sexy as hell.
"Go eat before I tell Candice."
"Ooh, I'm so scared," I say, my back to him as I head up the deck steps to scrounge for some bottom-of-the-barrel chips. Honestly, I think she’d agree with me.
***
Mason's gasps as he opens presents are hilarious. I mean, I think he's the most hilarious kid I've ever been around, but admittedly, I'm biased.
"I always wanted one of these!" Mason holds up his new favorite toy that he probably has never seen before taking it out of the wrapping paper. "It’s so cool!" The children gathered on the lawn in front of him ooh and aww right on cue. It's too damn cute.
I'm standing off to the side underneath the giant oak tree that makes Candice and Tony’s backyard nice and cool during the summer.
My smile grows as I watch my nephew open his many presents, each one garnering the same reaction that seems ever-present today.
Tears sting in my eyes just thinking about how big he's getting and that soon he's going to be too cool for his Auntie Haze.
"You okay?" Grant’s deep voice rings from behind me, making me startle.
I blink rapidly in an attempt to help the now-forming tears evaporate faster. I’m not sure how it works, but it does. "Oh, yeah. Stuff like this makes me emotional," I admit. "I'll get over it."
"Ah, stuff... Presents?" He's trying to make me feel better and it's kind of working.
"Yes, presents,” I laugh, thankful for the distraction.
Grant leans against the tree behind me so close that my skin prickles with awareness. "But seriously, are you okay?" His voice is soft and warm making me want to close my eyes and listen to him speak all day.
"Yeah." I wave him off. "I just got to thinking how big he's getting, and boom, waterworks.”
Crying isn’t something I do often, or at all, really. Every once in a while, a dog video or stress overload has me blubbering, but on the day-to-day, nothing tends to phase me.
Mason opens another present, the same shock and joy painted on his face, and for a moment, Grant and I stand side by side in contented silence watching the show before us.
"Hazel," Grant's deep voice is soft, drawing my gaze to him. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Go for it." Butterflies erupt in my belly at his closeness. There's something behind his gaze that is making me shiver in anticipation.
He sucks in a large breath, setting me even more on edge with every second that passes. "I'd like to take you out sometime. Would you like to go on a date?”
Oh my gosh, it's happening.
It's not all in my imagination.
My face shows every thought and there's no stopping the cheek-splitting grin that takes over my face. "Of course." My heart is racing, and I feel breathless, but fireworks are going off right now.
Grant smiles back at me, and we're both grinning fools, but I don't care. This might be my chance to be the girl that gets picked.