Chapter 6
PERSISTENCE AND PAYOFF
BJ
I’m lying in bed with my phone on my chest, half asleep, when there’s a rap on my sliding door.
“Come in,” I call.
Lovey steps inside and kicks off her sandals. She crosses the room and flops down beside me on the bed. “Hey.”
We’ve been best friends for a lot of years.
Many people wonder if there’s more between us, but there isn’t.
Although, I’m partly to blame for that since sometimes I flirt with her when I want to avoid awkward interactions with previous hookups.
Only once in all our years of friendship did we cross the line.
It involved a game of spin the bottle when we were fourteen.
Far too many of us were related to each other for it to be anything but awkward and incest-y.
And when Lovey and I had to kiss, it cemented our friends-for-life-and-nothing-more status.
“Hey yourself.” I move my phone to the nightstand and fold an arm behind my head.
She rolls to her side and props her cheek on her fist. “Give me the deets on the Winter situation. Rose shared her version of events, but she’s good at embellishing for the sake of an exciting story.”
I explain what happened, from the near miss this morning to inviting Winter to free skate.
She lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Rose wasn’t wrong about the six degrees of separation.”
“A lot of threads pulling us all together,” I agree.
“What happened when you dropped her off?” Lovey asks.
“I met her dad.”
Her eyes widen. “You did? What’s he like?”
“An asshole, as far as I can tell. And she had me drop her at the end of her driveway. She’s close to the Kingstons’ place, but I didn’t even realize there was a house there. It’s kinda hidden. She told me she doesn’t volunteer at the foodbank.”
Lovey nods. “I think her life is pretty hard. She’s a regular at the foodbank. Everyone who volunteers there knows her.”
“Interesting that her dad can afford cigarettes, but they can’t keep food on the table,” I muse. “It must be frustrating to watch someone literally burn away your grocery money.”
“Logan said her last name was familiar,” Lovey murmurs.
After meeting her dad, that’s not hard to believe. “I’m guessing it’s not for their community involvement.”
“He didn’t elaborate, but his facial expression said it all.” She rolls onto her back. “Clover says she’s at the library a lot and uses the computers. And with what I know, it all seems to add up to things being tough.”
“Yeah. I got that impression.”
“So maybe don’t go pulling your usual routine with her.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “What routine is that?”
She pokes me in the ribs. “Don’t act like you’re clueless. Normally you’re the king of random hookups, and then you pull the let’s-be-friends card. But you also usually save that for when we’re in Chicago and steer clear in the summer.”
“Yeah. Because I’m too busy for them.” My summers are dedicated to skating, teaching lessons, and hanging out with friends. I also avoid hookups because I learned the hard way that Pearl Lake is small and everyone knows everyone.
“So Winter’s what? An anomaly?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I’m supposed to know her.”
She grins knowingly. “Really? So you like her. Remember, Rose works with her, Clover and I both know her, and our dads are pretty excited about her. If ever there was a time to change how you do things, this might be it.”
“Agreed. I got her number tonight.”
“Unsurprising. You message her yet?”
“Yup.”
“Has she messaged you back?”
“Nope.”
“Good. I hope she keeps you on your toes.”
The first thing I do when I wake up the next morning is roll over and reach for my phone. Still nothing from Winter.
The wave of disappointment is new and foreign. I want an excuse to hang out with her again. I consider sending another message, but I’ve never been that guy. Besides, she’s working again today, so I can stop by and charm her into skating with me later.
I drag my ass out of bed and hop in the shower. Fifteen minutes later, I’m clean, my morning wood has been handled, and I’m dressed.
Mom is in multitasking mode when I reach the kitchen. She alternates between flipping pancakes and arranging cut fruit on a platter. “Morning, kiddo.” She checks the pancakes and deems them flip-ready. “You sleep okay?”
“Like the dead. You need any help?”
“The pancakes are almost done. Can you grab plates?”
My phone buzzes as I pull three plates from the cupboard. Another pang of disappointment hits when I check and find Adele, my skating partner’s name, flashing across the screen.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks.
“Yeah. It’s Adele. She’s probably messaging to tell me she’ll be late.” Adele is rarely punctual.
Mom frowns. “I wish she would be more respectful of your time.”
“It gives me a chance to warm up.” I turn my phone to silent and set it facedown on the counter.
Mom makes an annoyed sound. “I have one to three blocked off for you two. Will that be enough time?” She doesn’t comment further on Adele’s lateness. We’re both used to it. My mom is my skating coach and has been since Adele and I started skating together.
“It should be. I have us booked in from nine to eleven thirty. Then a break for lunch before we get back on the ice with you.”
“Does she have the rotation and the angle down with the triple twist?”
I lean against the counter. “She’s about fifty-fifty. Sometimes she touches me as I catch her because she’s off-balance. It may be too much, but we really need to up the complexity of our routine for this competition. We’re going against some of the best pairs in the country.”
She gives me a patient smile. “I agree, but if she’s still struggling by the end of the week, we may want to swap the move. We don’t want this to affect her confidence with the rest of the routine.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought the same thing.” I pop a grape into my mouth. “We’ve got a few weeks before the competition, so we still have time to adjust.”
She plates the pancakes. “Do you want me to broach the subject with her today, feel it out?”
“It’s probably better coming from you than me.”
The triple twist is a tricky move. It requires a lot of skill and confidence, and sometimes Adele lacks the latter. Shifting the routine and incorporating a lift she feels confident about could be the answer, but we need to place at least third to move on to the next round.
Mom smiles and squeezes my arm. “Sounds good. I know she doesn’t like to disappoint you on the ice, and if I bring it up, it’ll be easier on both of you.”
Dad comes in with a tray of fresh bacon, and we bring the food to the table and take our seats.
“You drove the Marks girl home last night?” He passes me the bacon.
“I did, yeah.”
“She’d make a great addition to the women’s team,” he says.
“I think so too. She said you mentioned the program. She’s working at Boones today with Rose. I plan to invite her to skate with me this afternoon since I have an hour of ice time booked at four. I can mention it again and suggest she stop by your practice after, if you want.”
“That’d be great.”
After breakfast, I grab my backpack and head out to start my day.
I still don’t have a message from Winter, but Adele has sent five more.
As expected, she’ll be twenty minutes late.
She’s sorry, and she’ll make it up during practice.
I send a thumbs-up in return so she doesn’t message me relentlessly until I respond.
Less than ten minutes later, I arrive at Boones. The mouthwatering scent of fried dough, apple, and cinnamon sugar hits me as I step inside. When my gaze lands on Winter, my mouth waters for a whole different reason.
She’s standing in front of the fryer, her back to me.
She’s wearing the customary Boones T-shirt and a pair of black shorts.
They’re basic athletic shorts, the kind someone might wear running.
Under them is a second pair of shorts, made of legging material, which end mid-thigh. They cover yesterday’s road rash.
Rose is behind the cash register. “You’re about as subtle as a fart in an elevator.” She slides her phone into her apron and arches a brow. “Wanna throw another half dozen fritters in the fryer, Winter?”
“Sure thing.” Winter glances over her shoulder at me. A small smile appears, but she quickly schools it and turns back to the fritters.
Once the customer ahead of me pays for her order, Rose rings me through. “I’m going to flirt with Scottie in the kitchen and give you two a minute to be awkward together.” She disappears into the back room, leaving us alone.
I lean on the counter. “You haven’t answered my texts.”
Winter lifts the basket of fritters from the fryer and sets it in the rack to drain. She turns and crosses her arms. “That’s because I haven’t made a decision yet.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“I’m supposed to mow the lawn after work.”
“What time do you finish here?”
Rose pokes her head through the doorway. “One! She finishes at one!”
Winter shoots her a look. “Seriously? I thought you were giving us time to be awkward without an audience.”
Rose gives her a cheeky grin. “I’m listening, not watching.” She disappears again.
“You think that’s enough time for you to mow the lawn and make it back to the arena at four?” I ask.
She grips the edge of the counter. “I’ve gotta run a couple of errands too.”
“I could pick you up, if that would help you lean in my favor. Say three forty-five at the end of your driveway?” I do the thing that annoys Lovey because she says it makes me impossible to say no to.
I look up at Winter from under my lashes and bite my lip.
Then just in case, I also appeal to her competitive side.
“Think about it. An hour on a rink, just you and me. We can run skate drills. And I’ll give you a few pointers on how to tighten your turns. ”
Her eyes narrow. “Who said I need to tighten my turns?”
“You’re confident on breakaways, but you falter in the crease. One lesson and I promise you’ll have it down.”
She adjusts her ball cap. “Are you always this persistent?”
That’s close to a yes. “Only when I think it’s worth the effort.” I wink and head for the door. “Three forty-five. End of your driveway. Looking forward to getting back on the ice with you.”
“Hey! What about your fritters?”
“Bring them to the arena. And I like all the toppings, so you can surprise me.”
I leave before she can stop me, or change her mind.