Chapter 5
Oakley Kate
“Gosh freaking darn it!” I’m going to lose whatever sanity I still have before Tuesday. I sling my shoe across the room, the thunk it makes against the wall a mild satisfaction.
“You okay in there, honey?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Control, Oakley.
“I’m fine, Mom.” Not fine.
All I want is to curl up with my new eBook by one of Jett’s author clients, but I can’t get comfortable. So, I was going to hobble around in the back yard and get some fresh air. Only, I can’t get my shoe on. Hence the shoe-chucking.
She peeks her head around the doorframe. “Is it safe to enter?”
I huff a laugh even though the last thing I feel is humor. I really am acting like a kid who didn’t get her way.
“It’s safe, Mom. Just a fight with my shoe.” I gesture to the scuff mark on the other side of the room. “The shoe won.”
Mama fights to keep the smile off her face but ultimately fails as she picks up the sneaker before sitting beside me. “I need to run to the store. Do you need anything?”
“Can I go with you?” I ask, suddenly desperate to get out of this house, even if it means hobbling around on crutches for all of Steele Valley to see.
“Want help with the shoe?”
“Please,” I say, a small smile playing on my lips. God, I love my mama.
Steele Valley, Georgia, is a little town.
Not near as rural as Havenwood. We at least have traffic lights and a hospital.
So it’s more of a small city—paved two-lane roads, office buildings, and big-chain grocery stores—but it’s still smaller than Athens.
We love all our red-and-black sports, but around here, hockey is number one.
If anyone ever questioned it, all they’d have to do is look at the billboards.
There might be one or two for football, but the majority are for Steele Valley Voltage.
As we get further from Mom’s gated community—okay, so maybe Steele Valley isn’t such a little town—more and more signs pop up.
Let’s Go Volts posters and window paint line most shops.
The season is upon us already, and I can’t decide if the nerves or the excitement is stronger.
This’ll be my first season home since I left five years ago.
As I slip out of Mama’s car and crutch toward the door, she grabs a shopping cart and pulls out the list she jotted down on an old envelope.
“Didn’t your children just buy you a fancy shopping list and to-do list pad?”
“Oh, hush, you. Old habits die hard. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with recycling. At least I get a little joy out of those stupid bills coming in the mail.”
I follow along as she heads for the baking aisle.
“Shona asked if I could make some of those s’mores cookies you loved so much as a kid. The girls she tutors might be more obsessed with them than you were.”
The thought of those ooey chocolate chip cookies with marshmallows added in has me salivating. “Better make it a triple batch, Mama. I’m going to search for my protein powder. Can you believe they want seven dollars to ship a twelve-dollar container?”
“How dare they,” she huffs with an eye roll. “I’ll find you when I’m done. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Nodding at her, I crutch off toward the health aisle. They’ve rearranged since the last time I was here, and I swear nothing is where it was. Why can’t stores just leave things alone? At least it’s fairly empty for a Saturday morning. Maybe I can make it through this errand without running into—
“What happened to you?” a growl of a voice says. Damn. There go my insides getting all melty, too. The familiar voice sends a mix of chills down my spine. That kissing in the rain on top of Brasstown Bald in summer mixed with a dash of heartache because you know the beauty of it will never last.
I steady myself and turn to face the man I ran from—Silas Harrison.
Instead of answering his question, I use that fancy defense mechanism of mine: masking. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Star Center, in the flesh. Shouldn’t you be at the rink or going over tapes right about now?”
He shakes his head, those gray eyes filled with emotions I refuse to unpack. Sadly, having been my boyfriend and fiancé for a spell, he knows my tricks and doesn’t take the bait. “What’d you do, Kates? Why’re you in a boot?”
My chest aches at the nickname only he has ever called me, but I roll my shoulders and stand tall. “No hey, old friend. How’s it hanging? Okay, noted.”
“Don’t make it weird, Oakley Kate.”
“I’m not making it weird. You are.”
He just lifts a thick brow, as if that’ll make his point.
It does, damn it. I huff out a breath and wobble a few steps forward.
When he opens his arms, I ease into them.
As much as my head knows it’s a bad idea, my heart wins out.
Not because I don’t want his hug, but because I know how dangerous his hugs can be.
We talk on the phone and video chat. An ongoing text chain.
But I haven’t seen Silas in person in months.
Haven’t been wrapped in the strength coiled under his skin, ready to strike at anyone who hurts what or who he deems his.
The warmth and security of being held against his chest is nearly enough to undo me, the steadiness of his heart beating under my ear.
“When’d you get into town?” he asks against my hair.
“Wednesday.”
His arms tense around me. “No call or text?”
I shrug, unable to look up at the man I was never able to replace. Unable to handle the disappointment I hear in his voice.
His fingers thread through the loose hairs at the nape of my neck and gently pull down, effectively forcing my eyes up to his.
“I figured you’d be busy with preseason craziness if you were even in town.”
The roughness of his calloused palm against my cheek does something to me that I refuse to acknowledge.
I made the choice to end us. Now, I have to live with it. No matter how satisfying it is to be wrapped in his arms again.
As those thoughts consume me, I step out of his hold. To his credit, he doesn’t fight me on it, but the look on his face is almost—almost—enough to make me step back into his chest.
That is until my mom wheels her cart around the corner.
“Honey? Did you find what you were—oh, Silas! How are you, sweetheart?” The closeness of our bodies isn’t lost on my mother as her eyes flick between us, that slight uptick of her lips giving way to a full smile.
“You know, Oakley and I were just about to grab an early lunch at the pizza place on the corner. You should join us.”
Everything in me seizes at her suggestion, and damn it if Silas doesn’t notice. I can’t tell if I’m hurt or relieved at what he says next. Maybe both.
“I would love to join you ladies, but unfortunately I have film to review before the team hits the ice next week.”
The lie rests so heavily in the air that I actually take a few steps back.
Is this what we’ve come to? Making excuses to avoid each other, not knowing how to be friendly in person? In public? Have we relegated ourselves to social media and video chat acquaintances? I hope not. This man is too special for me to lose entirely.