by Avery Flynn
“Asha, I was an asshole.”
“No shit.” Asha crossed her arms and lowered her voice. “You know, my sister wasn’t expecting a proposal. She went in knowing it was a one-night stand and was totally cool with that, but for him to act like he couldn’t remember her name? That’s just a real dick move. How many women out there spent days after that video came out feeling like they hadn’t had some mutual fun but instead had just been a nameless, replaceable woman? This isn’t about relationships or old-timey bullshit family values or anything like that—it’s about respect.”
It was like his ultimate dumb-ass jerk move he’d pulled was an onion—every time he peeled back a layer of obnoxiousness, he revealed a fresh, biting layer of how he’d inadvertently hurt someone and shown shit-ass leadership skills. He should have been better than that, and he hadn’t been.
He nodded. “You’re right.”
Asha’s rigid posture relaxed, but her glare remained in place. “I still don’t like you.”
“That’s fair.” Really, it was probably more than he could have hoped for.
The left side of her mouth twitched upward but never made it all the way. “Fine.” She started walking toward the set. “Let’s go get this farce of an interview started.”
Caleb let out the breath he’d been holding in preparation for getting his ass chewed on TV again and looked over at his mom as he followed Asha. Britany was already on one love seat sitting next to Zara’s dad, and they were talking animatedly about God knew what, but at least they weren’t ready to throw down like last time.
Zara was alone on the other love seat. When she looked up and spotted him as he was stepping onto the set, he tripped over his own feet and went flying forward. He flung his arms out to catch himself and landed, splayed out like he was about to get a spanking, on Zara’s lap.
…
It was chaos around them as people gasped and gave warning shouts as time seemed to stand still while Caleb sailed through the air right at her. His mom and her dad leaped up from their love seat. The producer hurried forward, arms outstretched. The makeup artist, who’d just finished with a light dusting on her dad’s cheeks, ducked to get out of the way.
Her instincts? Well, they pretty much all got distracted by a flying Caleb, and he landed on her lap with a thump that knocked time back into motion but didn’t hurt because the love seat cushions eased the blow. And then she couldn’t look away from Caleb’s ass as he lay across her lap. His butt was round and firm and still covered in denim, but she could just imagine—okay, she had imagined all night long—what it looked like without the jeans. A heated flush swept up her body, which was weird because she was frozen to the spot, squashed between Caleb on her lap and the couch.
“Shit.” Caleb scrambled off her lap and sat down next to her, his forehead crinkled with concern. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Just a little tingly all over in ways that she should very much not be. “Are you hurt?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “Only my ego.”
“Lucky break,” Caleb’s mom said as she let out a relieved sigh and sat back down. “Could you imagine if you’d broken something? The season is about to start.”
“And my daughter could have been crushed. She’s half his size!” her dad exclaimed, his words coming out almost in tandem with Britany’s. “You okay, Button?”
“I’m fine,” she and Caleb said at the same time.
Embarrassment had her slumping back in her seat. Button? That hated nickname was not one she wanted to be said in public pretty much ever.
Both parents looked like they were about to continue when the show’s producer sidled up to the love seat with a clipboard and a pen. “I’m gonna need you to sign this release saying so. Just a formality, you understand, but our lawyers insist anytime something goes awry on set.”
She took the clipboard, gave the incident report a quick read, and signed her name on the line before handing it off to Caleb. He mouthed sorry as he took it from her, squinted down at the words on the paper—his jaw tightening.
“Did you want me to take a look?” his mom asked, half rising from her love seat.
“No,” he said, the words coming out between gritted teeth. “It looks fine.”
“It just says he tripped and landed on me but that we’re both unhurt,” Zara said, looking between the two of them and not quite understanding where all the gritted-teeth frustration was coming from.
Maybe it was just because he was used to having lots of people look at legal stuff before he had to sign? It made sense but still felt off, especially when Britany muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like “stubborn boy” as she sat back down. Caleb glanced down at the form and then scrawled his signature under hers.
After they handed the clipboard back to the producers, Asha sat down in the chair opposite the love seats, a short stack of index cards in her hand; the cameraman counted down from five; and the interview began.
“We’re back with Ice Knights defenseman Caleb Stuckey and miniatures artist Zara Ambrose along with Caleb’s mom, Britany, and Zara’s dad, Jasper, who are going to offer some dating parental guidance. So, Britany, tell us a little bit about what it was about Zara’s profile that jumped out at you?”
Zara blindly reached for Caleb’s hand between them and squeezed as panic zoomed through her. The last thing she needed was for her dad and the whole of Harbor City to hear about her vagina cobwebs.
Kill. Me. Now.
“I admired how forthright she was,” Britany said. “She didn’t seem like someone who’d be thrown by unexpected events.”
“Not my Zara,” her dad answered. “She’s always been a rock, which she proved at Little Bloomers Preschool on Forty-Eighth Street. As a single parent, it was such a relief for me to know Ms. McGee and her staff were looking out for my little Button, and I highly recommend them.”
Caleb squeezed her hand back and managed to morph his chuckle into an extended clearing of his throat. Really, they should have set up some sort of drinking game. One shot for every business her dad plugged on the air. Two shots if Asha finally lost her cool and smacked Jasper with her notecards.
Of course, he was probably utterly sincere in his praise. That was what kept her from losing patience with his ridiculous get-rich schemes or the instances where he’d give away more than they could afford—like the time he’d come home from a night out with his friends and confided in her that their rent money was going to be a little short because Jessie the bartender was about to have her baby and all the fellas took up a collection to leave her a big tip to help carry her through. Even when he was being ridiculous, he meant it with all his heart, and she, like just about everyone in the neighborhood, couldn’t help but love him.
“Jasper, what kind of dating advice did you offer to Zara before date one?” Asha asked, bringing the interview back to the task at hand.
Her dad dragged his fingers through his hair, which was only a few shades less orange than her own, and for half a second, something that looked a lot like regret crossed his face before it was replaced with his usual charming mask. “I wasn’t involved in that one—we didn’t talk about all of this until after they’d had their first dinner.”
Asha cocked her head to one side, definitely not buying his act. “But you’ve given her other dating advice?”
Jasper pivoted in his seat so he faced Zara, and he gave her that warm look of love that had given her faith as a child that everything would work out, in the end, no matter what crazy get-rich scheme her dad had embarked on or his ever-changing stories about why her mom had left. It sucked all the air out of her lungs, and in an instant, she was back to being that girl who believed again. She must have made a noise or flinched or something because Caleb ran his thumb over the top of her hand in a slow, calming line.
“Advice?” Her dad chuckled. “Just to believe what her heart is telling her but not to leave out her brain entirely.”
> “Excellent advice for all of us singles,” Asha said in that breezy, we’re-all-the-best-of-friends voice morning TV hosts all seemed to have. “And, Britany, what have you told Caleb?”
Britany didn’t hesitate. “To be smart about things and to always wrap it up.”
Next to her, Caleb groaned and his thumb stopped moving. In the shocked silence that fell after that ode to safe sex, the sound of the producer dropping her clipboard boomed through the studio.
As for Zara, she just wanted to sink into a hole. So much for parental guidance. Her dad was using the opportunity to audition, and his mom was making sure to let the world know her precious son shouldn’t knock up his date. Oh God. Did it get worse? She shouldn’t even wonder, because that was just tempting fate, and there had been enough proof already that fate was up to the challenge.
No doubt wondering why in the hell she’d agreed to do these interviews, Asha, her eyes wide, turned to Caleb and asked in a shakier tone, “How have the dates been going? Did your mom pick well?”
“She most definitely did.” He nodded and squeezed Zara’s hand. “I really wasn’t excited for her to take over my profile, because who in their right mind would want their mom picking out their dates? But Zara is pretty amazing.”
Okay, this was awkward—nothing like having people talk about her when she was sitting right there.
Asha, back on her game, leaned forward, as if the conversation was taking place over drinks at a pub and not in front of cameras. “Tell us more about that.”
“She’s smart, funny, and she isn’t scared to try anything. She’s got this weird shoe-addiction thing. And according to the photos of her work that I’ve seen online, she’s really talented.” He lifted their joined hands and winked at her before brushing his lips across the back of her hand. “My mom picked a really amazing woman, and I’m damn lucky.”
“Wow. That’s not a bad impression for two dates.” Asha glanced down at Zara’s fingers interlaced with Caleb’s. “Are you equally smitten?”
Put on the spot by both of them and not liking it even one little bit, Zara could feel her pulse beating in her earlobes as she slid her hand free. “He seems nice.”
“Ouch there, Caleb.” Asha laughed. “That’s not quite a ringing endorsement.”
He didn’t seem fazed, just relaxed against the love seat and draped his arm across the back of it, not touching Zara but coming close enough that she could feel his presence.
“I’ve got three more dates to convince her,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll be able to before the final buzzer goes off.”
It was annoying and sexy and weird and a total turn-on for reasons that made no sense. She really needed to go home, have an orgasm, and get her brain straight. Also, she really needed to not say any of that out loud, which was why when Asha made eye contact, Zara gave a subtle shake of her head.
Smooth and cool again, Asha turned to the occupants of the other love seat. “Jasper and Britany, any last words of advice?”
“Give him a chance,” her dad said, the soft look in his eyes showing just how much of a romantic dreamer he was even after all these years. “You never know what you’ll discover about people when you do.”
“That’s excellent advice for all of us,” Asha said as she turned to face the camera. “Now, as all of Harbor City’s Ice Knights fans know, non-rookie training camp starts tomorrow, and then it’s straight into the first preseason game, so we’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for at least a week until these two can meet up again for date three and we can find out if there really is something to Bramble’s parent-involved dating algorithms.”
A week?
Zara’s stomach clenched—obviously because she wanted to get these dates knocked out as quickly as possible and not because she had already kinda gotten used to seeing him on a regular basis and now she wouldn’t.
“From all of us at Harbor City Wake Up, this is Asha Kapoor wishing you a great rest of your day. We’ll see you back here tomorrow!”
Asha held her friendly smile for a count of three, and then the camera light blinked off while Zara was still trying to figure out why in the hell she was so annoyed.
…
Caleb had spent his formative years around women. He’d learned early on to recognize the it’s-fine expression on Zara’s face and know that it meant his ass was about to be mowed down. He had to fix whatever he’d done to fuck this up and fast. He hustled after her to the elevator, where she was already pressing the down button repeatedly while looking straight ahead.
“Hey,” he said, coming to a stop next to her. “Can we grab some coffee real quick?”
“Why?” She took out her phone and started scrolling through email. “It can’t be an official Bramble date unless we schedule it through the app.”
Oh yeah, she was pissed, and he had no clue why. Everything had seemed fine when they’d gotten there. The interview had been awkward as hell, but he’d been figuring on that. The only thing unexpected had been when Asha had brought up training camp and— He nearly smacked himself on the forehead. Zara didn’t follow hockey. She had no idea about the schedule, that even preseason was crazy busy. Once again, he was an asshole.
The elevator doors opened right as his mom and Jasper joined them. He let everyone get on the elevator before him and then made sure to get a spot next to Zara. She hit the lobby button and kept her attention focused on the little TV screen above the buttons.
“I’m sorry I didn’t explain about training camp and the preseason games,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “I know that slows us down for knocking out the five dates. Let me make it up to you with coffee, and we’ll figure out how we can still get through the dates as fast as possible.”
“It’s fine, really, just a surprise. But I’m not ever gonna turn down coffee.” Zara turned to look at their parents, who were standing really close together for an elevator that had plenty of room in it. “Dad, do you have time for coffee before I take you home?”
“Actually,” Jasper said as the elevator slowed and announced they were at the lobby level. “I was going to go have lunch with Britany.”
“We want to talk about you two when there aren’t cameras around,” his mom said.
He automatically held his hand in front of the elevator’s open doors so everyone could get out. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Caleb Cutie, there is so much to discuss.” She kissed him on the cheek, gave Zara a wave goodbye, and walked out of the elevator with Jasper, the two of them disappearing into the crowded lobby.
Shaking her head, Zara let out a deep sigh. “Nothing good will come from that.”
She wasn’t wrong. His mom was trouble when she was on her own. He couldn’t imagine how bad her interfering disguised as coaching would be if she had a sidekick. “Does your dad think this whole parent-guided dating thing is nuts?”
She rolled her eyes. “He and my friend Gemma, who was the one who got me to sign up for Bramble, think it’s hilarious and exactly what I need to get out of my work-only rut.”
All the possible shit outcomes from their parents ganging up to take this from a dating agreement to really dating—because that’s exactly what his mom would do—ran through his head as he held the door for Zara. “We are in so much shit.”
She nodded as they walked outside into the bright sunshine. She looked like she was about to say something else when her phone started beeping. Shooting him an apologetic look, she took it out of her purse.
“Oh shit.” Zara’s head fell back and let out a groan. “I’m sorry, but I gotta ago. Anchovy just set off my apartment’s security alarm.”
“You sure it wasn’t someone breaking in?” His own phone was out of his pocket, and he was ready to call 911 before the words were even out of his mouth.
She turned her phone around. Her screen had a huge diagonal crack, but he could still see the live-streaming feed of a mountain of a dog doing high-speed laps around the studio apartment, stopp
ing at the alarm pad to lick the camera and then taking off again while howling along to the siren.
“He has separation anxiety, and this is his latest trick to get me back home.”
Caleb laughed; he couldn’t help it. The dog was an evil genius. “That’s pretty smart.”
“And expensive.” Zara clicked out of the livestream and started to scroll through her contacts list. “If I don’t call off the security company, they’ll charge me a fine that I cannot afford. Sorry to skip out on coffee, but I gotta take care of this.” She made it a few steps before turning around, her headphones in her hand. “And I’m sorry for how I acted before. I’m not mad about the preseason stuff. I was just caught unaware of things, which is pretty much my most hated thing ever.”
“So, no surprise parties?” Not that they would know each other long enough for either of them to throw a party for the other.
Zara scoffed and put in one earbud. “Only under penalty of death.”
“Duly noted.”
“Okay, I gotta go.” She popped in the other earbud and hit the call button on her phone. “Good luck with whatever it is that happens at training camp.”
Then she was gone, talking to her security company as she weaved through the crowded Harbor City sidewalk like a pint-size forward zipping around defensemen on her way to the goal, leaving him alone and wondering why he was so disappointed.
And when he’d get to see her again.
Chapter Eight
Zara’s latest favorite song filled her apartment, Anchovy slept under her workbench, and she had the cover of a one-twelfth-size copy of Murder on the Orient Express clenched between the tongs of her best work tweezers. This was the moment of truth, and it got her nervous every time.
She’d already created the inside of the book by cutting paper into tiny little pages, adding in small text across the center spread and the other visible pages. Then, she’d arranged the pages so they aligned and painted the edges so it looked as if they had gold edging. After that, she’d used a paper clamp and a layer of glue to form the spine before applying more glue to the outside pages. Now, holding her breath, she lowered the hand-painted cover, making sure corners lined up and the spine was straight. Her heart was going a bazillion miles a minute, but her hands were steady. Still, it wasn’t until she’d smoothed the brilliant blue cover and set the book down to dry that she let out a relieved breath.