Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
CHASE
“You ready to get your ass handed to you again, Jake?” Dylan calls, rolling up his sleeves as he steps up to the high striker.
The bell tower looms above him, its lights flickering against the inky night sky, waiting for someone with enough strength to send the weighted puck all the way to the bell.
Everywhere I look, the fair is energy and noise.
I breathe it in. Loving the sounds and the smells and the buzz of being with my family.
No football talk tonight. Just us. Mama laughing with Madison and Harper.
Madison’s hair is windswept from so many rides.
Her ten-year-old face hasn’t stopped smiling since Flic took her on the ghost train.
She’s dressed as a football player, with Dylan’s old red jersey, white leggings and cardboard for shoulder pads.
Flic flashes me a knowing look as she and Izzy return with a cardboard tray of hot cocoa. From beside me, Jake snorts, flexing his biceps like a prize fighter. “Hope you’re not scared you’ve gone soft with all the ranching, Dyl?”
“I’ve been beating both your asses at this game since we were ten. And that includes the year I had my knee strapped up and crutches. This is just like any other year for me.”
I catch Mama rolling her eyes. “Everything always has to be a competition with you boys. Why can’t you just have fun?”
In two strides I’m by her side, wrapping her in a bear hug. “The competition is the fun, Mama.”
“As long as you don’t pull a muscle ahead of the Tidalrunners on Sunday,” she replies, mentioning our away game in Miami this weekend.
We’re currently tied for second with the Trailblazers in the AFC West after our game against the Admirals last weekend.
Another win on Sunday would go a long way to clinching that top spot from the Vegas Desertraptors.
I’m pulled back to the fair by the first beats of a pop song blaring from the nearby speakers.
Around us, a crowd starts to gather, wanting to see which Sullivan brother will take the victory at the high striker.
Some are here just for this. Wearing their Stormhawks jerseys and wanting to record our annual showdown on their phones.
At the very front, Madison jumps up and down cheering for Dylan, while Harper winks at Jake. “You got this, babe!”
I’m half listening, half scanning the gathering faces.
I catch a few dollars changing hands around us.
Usually, I’d be working the crowd right now, joining in the banter with Jake and Dylan, but I’m too busy looking for Serena.
I can’t stop thinking about the moment we collided in the corridor outside the changing rooms yesterday.
I’m still furious with Ryan. The thought of that smug bastard dangling Serena’s job—her career, her dreams—in front of her like a damn carrot makes me see red.
If he shows up tonight, if he even thinks about pulling another stunt, I’ll make sure he regrets it.
I briefly think of the meeting I had earlier at the stadium.
I know I should’ve told Serena. It’s bothering me that I’m keeping it from her.
But it’s more than just Ryan and the meeting earlier that’s bothering me tonight.
I feel like I’m on hyperalert, seeking Serena out, needing to make sure she’s OK anytime she pulls her hand away from mine.
And right now, I can’t see her, and it’s bugging the hell out of me.
Dylan steps up to the target first, swinging the hammer over his shoulder in slow motion, testing the weight.
He grips it tighter, arms flexed, and then he swings down to the target in a powerful arc.
The hammer hits the base with a thunderous clang, and the weight shoots up the pole to an impressive height.
The crowd claps as Jake takes the hammer.
“That all you got, old man?” he calls, loud enough for the crowd to laugh.
“Just warming up for my inevitable win,” Dylan throws back, stepping to Izzy and kissing her.
I barely register Jake’s turn with the hammer, the clang of the target, the clapping crowd.
Because right at the back of the group, I see Serena.
Her hair’s down, soft waves brushing her shoulders, and she’s wearing a jacket over a red sweater and jeans that hug her legs in ways that make it hard to think straight.
But all I focus on is her face and the way it’s lit up as she laughs with my two teammates, Rob and Lamar.
Maybe it’s just friendly chat, maybe they’re just waiting for their own competition on the high striker, but I don’t like it.
Then the mallet is shoved into my hands, followed by a hand from Jake, hitting my back. “You’re up, Chase. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The crowd falls quiet. They’re waiting for me to fake trip or make a joke, do something to make them laugh like always, but all I care about right now is the way Lamar is looking at Serena like he’s never seen a woman before.
And why the hell is Rob leaning toward her like that?
Suddenly I’m thinking about all the men who’ve let Serena down, used her, dismissed her.
Didn’t even show her what good sex really means.
I drop the hammer to the ground. “Be right back,” I murmur, not caring who hears as I push through the parting crowd until I’m at Serena’s side. She looks up, confusion in her eyes, but the way her smile widens just for me, damn if that doesn’t feel good.
“I’m going to need to borrow you,” I say. “If that’s OK?”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest as I take her hand and pull her close to me, feeling the heat of her body against mine as I move us both back through the crowd. I only let go when she’s at the very front.
I move my mouth to her ear. “I didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”
“Who?” she asks.
“Rob and Lamar. Every man here.”
“You’re an idiot.” She laughs.
“And you’re still mine tonight, remember?”
I draw back, staring into her eyes. There’s something dancing in them I can’t read. So instead, I press my lips gently to hers, just as I did earlier, just like I wanted to do yesterday in that darkened office.
Then I pick up the hammer, turning it over in my hands, getting used to the weight of it. In previous years, we’ve always gone through a few rounds, taking it in turns to hit the target, watching the puck move higher each time as we find the groove of the swing. Dylan is right. He does always win.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’m done with games.
I shoot a final look at Serena. Her gaze is locked on me, and like always it feels as though she’s seeing more than the version of myself I put out to the world. More than the man who likes to joke and play. She’s seeing me. All of me. There’s a flicker of something electric and charged between us.
I turn away, focusing on the target as I move the hammer over my shoulder and bring it down hard. The impact vibrates through my arms, the puck shoots up, the crowd gasps. The bell rings.
“Jeez, Chase, where did that come from?” Dylan asks.
Jake is taking the hammer from my hands, shaking his head. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
I laugh, but I’m already stepping back to Serena. “Thanks,” I say, pulling her to my side where it’s starting to feel like she belongs.
“For what?” she asks
“For being here. I’m starting to think you bring out the best in me.”
When we return to the others, Flic raises her brows in amusement. “Jealous much, Chase?”
“What did I miss?” Harper asks.
Flic looks at me. “Oh, only Chase going full Hulk on the crowd, pulling Serena away from Rob and Lamar.”
Mama reaches my side, squeezing my arm. “You leave my boy alone,” she says, before adding a wink. “Chase never did like to share.”
Jake and Dylan crack up with laughter, but I just shrug. Was it jealousy? All I know is that in that moment, I wanted Serena by my side.
“So, Mad, what’s next?” I ask, setting off another explosion of laughter and a heckle from Jake about my not-so-subtle change of subject.
“Will you win me one of those dragons?” she asks, hopping from foot to foot as she points at the ring toss and the huge stuffed dragon toys dangling from the net surround.
I make a mock sad face. “Oh Mad, I’m sorry. Ring toss isn’t my game. But it is Serena’s.”
Mad’s face lights up. “Will you win me a dragon please, Serena?” she asks, turning to Serena and holding out her hand.
“Of course.” Serena’s smile is soft as she accepts Mad’s hand and they head over to the next game booth.
Then just as I’m thinking the attention is off me and my “Hulk move” as Flic called it, Madison turns back, her voice loud as she looks between me and Serena. “Are you sure you’re not really boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Every eye turns to us. The silence hits like we’re both center field under the Friday night lights with nowhere to run. I know I should deny it, but the words catch somewhere behind my ribs, and I can’t force them out.
Serena leans down and tickles Madison’s side. “We’re just friends, I promise. Now who put you up to saying that?” she asks, eyeing the Sullivans as Jake bursts out laughing.
He raises his hand. “Just had to check.”
“You owe me a candy bar,” Mad declares happily.
“And you all need to stop bribing my daughter with candy to do your dirty work,” Izzy adds, laughing with the others. But all I can think about is that this thing between me and Serena ends tonight, and how that feels all kinds of wrong.
I’m still the same person. Serena is still the same person. All the reasons we can never work are still there, and I only have to look at the way Serena smiles down at Mad to see it. I’ve always known Serena is the full package for someone else. But what if I was wrong?