Chapter 7
STELLA
I do wear my new jacket to the park. Jayden’s comment about the colour looking good with my hair stays with me, like a warm little glow in my chest, and I smile as I check out my reflection before I leave.
I remember him talking about the three-meeting theory the last time I saw him in the park. About how the third time you meet someone randomly, it’s a sign of destiny. A message from the universe.
It amused me at the time, but now I wonder… does it mean something?
Eh. Whatever. I’ve already convinced myself that if he asks me to go for coffee again, I’ll do it. I’m interested. He’s interested. He’s hot. Why not? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. If it’s fun, great. If not, oh well. I’ll just have to walk Betty somewhere else. Ha ha.
He’s already there, in the enclosed area for the small dogs, and I smile watching him throw a ball for Frank. Betty pulls at the lead as if she knows who’s here, and I let us into the enclosure and make sure the gates shut behind us. I unclip Betty and she zooms off toward Frank. And Jayden.
I stroll behind her, my insides fluttering like the leaves of the maple trees around us. Am I a teenager again? Jeez. And when Jayden sees me and smiles, the flutter turns to a flapping and my pulse hops and skips. Oh my God. I need to chill.
I direct my attention to Frank, crouching to greet him.
He’s happy to see me, like we’re best buds and, to be honest, I love it.
I get a few swipes of his tongue and some happy whining, then Betty butts in because she’s jealous and I stand so the two of them can run off.
Jayden throws the ball and they both chase it, at risk of dislocating their little kneecaps, they go so fast.
“They’re so funny.” I face Jayden and smile. “Hi.”
“I thought you were going to ignore me,” he says. “Just say hi to my dog.”
“Well, you know the dogs are the most important.”
“Yeah, I do know that.” His eyes run over my face and it doesn’t settle me down. If anything, my pulse is skipping faster. “Although… no offence to Betty… I’d rather see you than her.”
I gasp, slapping a hand to my chest. “Don’t let her hear you say that!”
“I bet she’d understand.”
My skin heats beneath my new jacket, the warmth rising into my face. Great. I’m blushing like a sixteen-year-old with her first boyfriend. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
A laugh barks out of him. “Yeah, no.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“All the other girls don’t have dogs,” he explains.
“Oh. Of course.” My mouth twists up to repress my smile.
“So. Where should we go?”
I blink.
“For coffee.”
“Oh. Well. You’re making a big assumption, aren’t you?”
The corners of his mouth quirk and it’s extremely attractive. “Am I?”
“Okay, no.”
His smile splits his face. “There’s a dog-friendly restaurant over on Hamilton.”
Oh. We can take our dogs. My heart bumps. “Okay.”
“We’ll let them burn off some energy first.” He turns and jogs over to where they’ve left the ball and throws it again. They both bound after it.
“Good arm,” I say as he returns. “Did you play baseball, too?”
“I played every sport there is.” He makes a face. “My parents wanted me to be well-rounded.”
“Hmm. That’s good. My parents… well, my dad, mostly… wanted my brother to focus on hockey.”
He cants his head. “Your brother played?”
“Yeah. For the Kelowna Charge.”
His eyes pop open. “Really? I grew up in Kelowna.”
“That’s where you’re from?”
“Yeah. I idolized those Charge players when I was a kid. When did he play there?”
I name the years Harrison played in Kelowna. “The last year Harrison played there was ten years ago.”
“I watched him! Harrison Brooks. Holy shit, you’re his sister?”
“Yep.” This is an uncomfortable reminder that I’m five years older than Jayden.
“He was a fucking tank. Just an absolute unit in front of the net. What’s he doing now?” His forehead creases. “He didn’t get drafted, did he?”
“No. He didn’t want to. He decided university was a better plan. He’s an engineer.”
“No shit. Wow.”
“Small world, right?”
“No kidding.”
I check on our dogs, who now have another playmate: a brown poodle. They’re all fine. “Did you play for the Charge?”
“No. Got drafted by the Monarchs. In Saskatoon. But I only played one season there and then I moved to Brandon.”
“Ah. That’s far from home.”
“It was.” He makes a face that has an unexpected tinge of bitterness. “It was hard. Although I wasn’t supposed to admit that.”
“I remember Harrison having a hard time, too.”
“Really?” His face goes serious.
“Yeah. But that fucking hockey culture wouldn’t let any of you idiots admit it.”
“It’s true.” He lets out a long breath. “We are idiots.”
I have to say I like that he’s admitting this. That he’s not playing tough guy and pretending leaving his family when he was a teenager and moving halfway across the country to live and play with strangers wasn’t hard.
“Room for growth,” I say with a half-smile.
“Yeah.” One corner of his mouth lifts. “Should we go?”
“Okay.”
“Frank! Come!”
Frank comes like a good boy and Betty follows him. Their poodle friend comes, too.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I say to the poodle. She’s wearing a pink sweater so I think she’s a girl. “We can’t take you to the restaurant, too.”
We clip up our pups and head out. It’s only a couple of blocks and around the corner to the Pygmy Goat. I’ve been here before; the food is great. But I’ve never brought Betty.
There’s a small, covered sidewalk patio. Most tables are full but we’re in luck. Betty and Frank say hi to the cutest dachshund as we make our way to one of the empty tables the hostess points out, then flake out at our feet beneath the table. The heater near us gives off delicious warmth.
Jayden picks up a small menu. “I could go for a snack.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re a growing boy.”
He looks at me over the menu and smirks. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
I choke out a laugh. “Oh my God.”
“How did you know that?”
My face is heating again. This guy! I shake my head, and look down at my own menu. They have an all-day menu of appetizers.
“Would you like meatballs?” Jayden asks.
They come in tomato sauce with focaccia. “Sounds good.”
“And… salmon cakes.” He looks up. “I’m going for protein,” he adds apologetically.
“That’s fine. I like protein.” Well, that sounds dumb. “I mean, I try to eat healthy. Mostly.”
“And how about some Brussels sprouts?”
“This is turning into a whole meal.”
He shrugs. “I like to eat.”
“I do, too, but I don’t burn a gazillion calories a day.”
“I have to be careful,” he says. “I haven’t been burning a gazillion calories a day this week.”
He orders for us. When he asks for a sparkling water, I ask for the same. They even bring a bowl of water for the dogs. What a great place.
“I love that we can do this,” I say. “Bring the dogs. There are so many dogs in this neighbourhood.”
“Yeah, there are. It’s cool.”
“Do you like cats?”
He sits back in his chair. “Yeah. We had a few cats when I was a kid. They’re okay.”
“But you like dogs better.”
“I guess.”
“I think cats are evil.”
He laughs. “Yeah?”
“They have weird eyes. Their pupils are…” I gesture with my hands. “Up and down. It’s freaky.”
“They communicate with their eyes. It’s not evil.”
“They stare at you with those eyes. They’re plotting how to dismember you.”
His eyes sparkle with humour. “Okay. No cats for Stella. What about fruit? Which fruit looks the most suspicious to you?”
I take this question seriously. “Hmmm. I think dragon fruit. It’s very odd-looking.”
“Yeah.”
“What about you? Which fruit do you think looks evil?”
“Pineapple. Those spikes can injure you.”
“True. Although pineapple is my favourite fruit.”
“I don’t think I have a favourite fruit. I like it all.”
“You must like veggies, too, since you ordered Brussels sprouts.”
“If you ask my mom, she’d say no. I did not eat my veggies when I was a kid. But I eat them now.”
“And protein.”
“Yep.” He sighs. “Eating healthy is such a drag. You have no idea how much I’d like to scarf down a family size bag of potato chips every day.”
“Ah. Potato chips. Another favourite of mine.”
“Me too.”
We get into a discussion of the best chips: kettle cooked or regular, rippled or not, flavored or plain, and kinds of dip.
“I make a great dill pickle dip,” I tell him. “It’s even good for dipping pretzels.”
His eyes spark with interest. “That sounds tasty. Are there really pickles in it?”
“Yes, finely chopped.”
“Okay. I’m going to have to try that. I’ll bring the chips.”
I hold back my smile. “Bring the chips where?”
His easy smile is playful and unrepentant. “To your place. Where you’ll make the dip.”
“Ohhhh.” Like I didn’t know that’s what he meant. A fizzy feeling sparkles in my chest. I forgot how much fun it is to flirt with a man. Okay, with a man who’s good at it. Like Jayden.
Our food arrives so we halt our conversation for a few minutes. We’re each given small plates so we can share and I take a big meatball, steamy with tomato sauce and melty cheese, a salmon cake, and a few crispy Brussels sprouts.
“Remember the three-meeting theory?” he asks a moment later, after he’s eaten half a meatball.
“Yes.”
“I was thinking more about it.” He picks up a piece of focaccia.
“Okay.”
“You had a point about the fact that we live in the same neighbourhood and walk our dogs in the same park. It might not be a message from the universe.”
I tilt my head as a spear a Brussels sprout. “No?”
“Maybe. But then I thought if we ran into each other somewhere else—where we wouldn’t expect to see each other—then that more likely means something.”
He’s so earnest about this. It’s adorable. It should be cheesy and fake but I’m charmed and curious. “At the arena. Also, Jack and Sky.”
“Exactly.” He points his fork at me. “It might just be luck that we keep running into each other.”
“You feel that’s lucky?” I’m apparently susceptible to flattery, because the fizzy feeling of delight inside me is intensifying.
“Of course.” His bewilderment at my clarification is endearing. “But I was also thinking about if it’s fate or the universe or whatever, I don’t like that being out of my control. I want to control my life.”
I nod slowly.
“So.” He leans forward. “Whatever the reason is that we keep meeting up, it’s up to us to make the most of it.”
I slide my bottom lip through my teeth, trying not to break into a huge smile. Dammit. I like this guy. “Which is why we’re here.”
“Right. And which is why we’re going to go out again.”
“Presumptuous,” I murmur. “Most men ask for another date.”
“Can I see you again, Stella? I’m kidding about making me chip dip. I’ll take you out somewhere fun.”
“Like where?”
He smiles. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I smile back at him and we’re sitting looking at each other across the small table with goofy expressions on our faces and I’m… enamored. “Okay.”
What am I doing? I want to roll my eyes at myself but I can’t stop smiling.
I take a bite of a salmon cake.
“How about Friday?”
I think about my social calendar. “I can’t. I have plans with my friends.”
He nods, lips pursed. “I respect that. Sisters before misters. My buddies and I were just talking about that.”
I blink. “Oh.”
“We have an out-of-town game Saturday,” he says. “Edmonton. Probably Sunday night isn’t the best.”
“I have dinner with my mom and my brother on Sunday. It’s Thanksgiving on Monday, remember?”
“Right. So Monday’s a holiday.” He thinks. “But we have a game Monday. How about Tuesday?”
I pull out my phone and check my calendar. “I’ll be in Toronto.”
“We leave for Dallas Wednesday. Back Friday.”
“I get back from Toronto late Friday.”
“Damn. So… next Saturday?”
My smile is expansive. “I think that works.”
“Excellent.” He finishes off a meatball, then says, “Back to the luck. That also got me thinking about hockey.”
“How so?”