by Bailey B
“Who’s Mamma T?”
“Cooper and Logan’s mom. She took me in for a few years.” Piper flicks her wrist, dismissing the fact like it’s no big deal. But to me, it’s a bit of clarity. If she lived with the Harris’ as a kid, it’s unlikely she looks at the twins as anything more than family. “Let’s do something. It’s not like we can go to school today anyway.”
“For a girl who skipped yesterday afternoon, you’re all about your education. Aren’t you?”
She reaches across the table, stealing the other half of my sandwich. “Something’s gotta get me out of this town. It sure ain’t gonna be my looks.”
15
Piper
The leather seats of Rex’s Range Rover are comfy, but after two hours I’m itching to get out of them. Sitting still, the seat belt holding me down, only able to move a few inches is getting to me. The more I think about being trapped in the car, the worse my anxiety gets.
It’s nothing against Rex. He’s been great, singing along with everything from Dropkick Murphy’s to Brooks and Dunn. Not surprisingly, he’s got a set of pipes on him. But it’s the feeling of being restrained that’s bothering me. I shift in my seat for the millionth time, trying to get comfortable.
Rex hits his blinker, merging onto Interstate 75. “Fifteen more minutes, Babe.”
I nod, pulling at the strap across my chest. If not for the alarm signaling the seatbelt isn't fastened, I would have unbuckled ages ago. But the damn beeping every thirty seconds is annoying as hell.
After what feels like a lifetime, Rex parks along the side a huge, tan, dome-like-building with a bright yellow accent streak across the top half of it, ignoring the obviously marked front entrance. He gets out and runs around the front of the vehicle to open the door for me.
“I was gonna get that.” I slip my hand into his, allowing Rex to help me out. Contrary to what Cooper and Bane think, I can take care of myself. “I’m not a damsel in distress. You don’t have to do all this.”
Rex laces his fingers with mine, bumping the door shut with his hip. “All what?”
“You know. Opening doors. Helping me out.”
“Ah,” he says, those glorious dimples coming out to play. “You mean being a gentleman.”
I twist the strap of my bag. It’s been weeks, but Rex still makes me nervous. A good, fluttery stomach, racing heart, on my toes kind of nervous—but nervous, nonetheless. He’s just too sweet. I’m still not used to it. “Guys our age don’t do shit like this.”
Rex chuckles and pulls a key from his pocket when we reach the building. He sticks it into the lock on a side door marked team members only, twists and then pulls. His free hand goes to the small of my back, pinky dipping beneath the band of my pants, guiding me down a dimly lit hallway that could be made of ice.
“Guys our age are douchebags. I’m one of a kind.”
That you are, Rex. That you are.
It’s a freaking hockey arena. A cold-ass hockey arena, might I add. Rex practically skips as he guides me past the lockers to a viewing room reserved exclusively for post-game mingling. The room’s a good twenty degrees warmer with four large flat screen TVs hanging on the wall, an L-shaped sectional and a cabinet next to the fridge. He unlocks the cabinet and grabs a green blanket from inside. “Here. This should help.”
Thanks.” I lean back against Rex’s chest. He kisses the side of my head then steadies me with his hands as he takes a step back.
A moment later, we’re walking through a maze of hallways and then entering the stadium. I’ve never been to a game before and am shocked upon seeing the size of the arena. From the outside, it didn’t look nearly this big. Distant voices of people yelling drills bounce off seemingly endless rows of empty chairs surrounding the ice.
Rex slips his hand in mine again, the familiar tingle warming my body from the inside out. “Isn’t this amazing?” he asks sitting us center ice behind the penalty box.
I nod. I’m not sure what’s so amazing about a bunch of guys on skates passing a puck around, but Rex looks like a kid in a candy shop. His eyes practically glistening with joy. He whispers lingo I don’t understand, trying to explain what’s happening in real time, but I’ve zoned out. My eyes are open, I look like I’m listening, but I’m half asleep. I think it’s called micro-napping. After so many hours awake, my brain needs to shut down and this is one way it does.
The whistle blows. I blink a few times, awake again, and try to figure out what’s happening on the ice. A man, presumably the coach and the only person out there without a helmet, skates toward us. “Montgomery. Is that you out there?”
Rex holds up his hand. “Yes sir.”
“Good timing,” the coach yells. “Suit up. We’re about to scrimmage.”
I’ve never seen something so thrilling yet terrifying in my life. A scrimmage is basically a fight on ice. I don’t even know what to call Rex’s position. A hunter? Is that a thing in hockey? His job is to chase the puck while everyone else chases him and shoves him into the plexiglass wall surrounding the rink. And sometimes their sticks hit his, making a god-awful slamming sound.
I chew my nails, sitting on the edge of my seat. Rex is on the green team, competing against white. They’re neck in neck, white leading by one point and there’s three minutes left in the third quarter. Are there quarters in hockey? I don’t even know, but the giant timer above the ice is counting down to zero and Rex has the puck again.
Rex spins on the ice with the grace of a ballerina, dodging a defensive attack from the other team. He passes the puck just as someone from the white team rams him from the right. His helmet slams into the glass with a cracking sound. I suck in a breath, terrified he might be hurt, but he seems fine. He shoves the guy off and goes after the puck.
Green number thirteen has the puck and lines up to shoot. White seven heads straight for the him but Rex ducks down low and hits his opponent in the stomach with his shoulder, sending them both to the ice. A red light spins above the net just as the timer sounds.
“Yes!” I yell, jumping up and down at my seat. Never in a million years would I have pegged myself as a hockey girl. But watching Rex out there, killing it, has made me a fan.
Coach blows his whistle and everyone skates into a line. He gives a speech I can’t hear, pointing and nodding, then blows his whistle again. The team skates off towards the tunnel entrance but Rex skates to me. I step onto my seat and curl my fingers over the top of the penalty box glass. He steps into the box and stands directly under me, his face about a foot beneath mine. He takes his gloves and helmet off and sets them beside him on a bench players sit on when they get in trouble during the game. “So? What did you think?”
“That has to be the most amazing thing I’ve seen. Ever! Did you know you were going to play?”
“No, but I knew it was a good possibility,” he beams. “I have an open invitation to the practices.”
“Please tell me you’re joking. Because if you’re not, I need to be at every one.” There’s something morbidly hot about watching Rex beat the living shit out of people.
He shakes his head. “I signed a contract in February to start next season. Coach knows I’m still in school, so anytime I get to train this season is an added bonus.” Rex flashes a devilish grin. “Wanna see my stick?”
I roll my eyes and feign annoyance. But yes. Hell yes! I want to touch it too. Rex holds his hockey stick up for me to see. I bite back a grin and reach out to stroke it. “Looks big.”
Rex’s cheeks flush. He clears his throat and hitches his thumb behind him. “I’m gonna shower up and get changed. Meet me in the room we got your blanket from in thirty?”
“I doubt I’ll find it again but I did notice a gift shop.”
“Okay let’s meet there.
Rex
There’s nothing I love more than hockey. My stick is an extension of me, maneuvering the puck with precision. The cool wind kisses my face as I speed around the rink. And did I mention how much I love ra
mming into people who piss me off. Best of all, I’m about to get paid for it. Minor leagues pay crap, but the goal is to do a year or two then hit the major leagues.
But Piper sitting on the edge of her seat, talking with her hands, full of life has become my new favorite thing. I absolutely love seeing her like this. Alive. It’s like I was brought into her life to remind her what it's like to live. I’m saving her and she doesn’t even know it.
“And it didn’t even matter that you didn’t score the final goal,” she continues, “because you took that guy down. Doesn’t it hurt, hitting people like that?”
I chuckle, completely enamored with her. At first, I wasn't sure how Piper would like the game, but now I can’t wait to take her to another. Too bad season’s ending. “It can, but we’ve got gear on. I also have years of practice under my belt. If I’m doing the hitting, I’m generally alright. It’s the other guy’s blows I’ve got to watch out for.”
“Is that why you’re so good at football?”
“What do mean? I don’t play football.” I watch Piper from the corner of my eye. Her fingers twist the strap of her shoulder bag. Over and over. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Her anxiety is getting to her. We aren’t even touching and she’s winding up tighter than a gnat's ass.
Piper opens her eyes but turns her gaze to the window. “P.E. You barrel through anyone that gets in your way. I’m sure Coach kicks himself for not letting you joining mid-year each time ya’ll play.”
I knew she watched me play. It’s hard to miss her in all that black at the top of the stands, but I wanted her to admit she liked me all along. You know, ego and all. “So, she is interested.”
Piper’s cheeks flush, her reflection giving away the smile she’s trying to hide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Face it, Piper. You like me. As much as you try to fight this, fight us, you want this to happen just as much as I do.”
The garage door closes behind us. Piper walks into the house first, dropping her bag on the kitchen counter. “I’ve got to pee,” she says darting around the corner. She comes back a few minutes later. Hair pulled into a messy bun. Shoes off. And sits on a barstool. “Now what, birthday boy?”
I lean against the edge of the counter nearest Piper. I take her hand, my thumb brushing soft circles across her palm. “Well, it’s getting late. You can go back up to the guest room tonight and crash, or we can fall asleep to a movie on the couch again. Your call.”
Piper looks off into the distance, thinking. Each second that ticks by takes a lifetime. I study the subtleties of her face. Tiny laugh lines around her eyes. Divots in her skin from blemishes she probably had years ago. Seventeen freckles across her cheeks and one that’s almost too light to see just above her lips. Dark, pouty lips I dream about every night.
I lean in expecting to be shot down, but Piper presses into me. Our lips touch, softly at first but then I feel her mouth open. She reaches for me, her hand going to the back of my head, fingers curling in my hair. I lift her onto the counter and step between her legs, eliminating the space between our bodies. The kiss is hot and needy and it takes every inch of will power I have not to lay her on the counter and explore the rest of her body with my tongue.
Piper pulls back, gasping for air, but I need more. My lips find the soft skin of her shoulder. I kiss my way up the side of her neck to her ear, taking the lobe and tiny earring in my mouth. She gasps again, pressing her legs tighter to my sides. She tugs at my hair, demanding my lips against hers again and I give her what she wants.
Piper’s pulls away again, her breaths sharp and short, matching mine. Those perfect lips of hers curl into a grin. “I’ve wanted to do that since the scrimmage. Happy birthday, Rex.”
16
Piper
Cooper: Meet me in the stairwell
I groan and slide my phone back into my shoulder bag. As if this morning wasn’t bad enough with Mrs. Cherrybroom being on my ass again about college, now I’ve got to deal with Cooper and whatever his problem is. I wish I could go back to last night, to kissing in the kitchen. I know Rex and I’ve kissed before, but I don’t count it. I was drunk and couldn’t fully appreciate it for what it was. But last night’s kiss wipes the memory of the first one out of the water. Hands down!
My phone dings again.
Cooper: NOW
Ugh. I beat my head against my closed locker. Today. Sucks. Balls.
The history final that I missed yesterday, I have to stay after school to re-take, which wouldn’t be a big deal if I was allowed to make it up on my free period. But no. Mr. Burgess is making me wait until after the last bell at 2:15. Again not a big deal if I didn’t have to work tonight, and if I didn’t have to catch the bus, and if I knew I could finish the test in under two hours. But all these things stacked against me plus Cooper’s bad attitude is a vortex of bad karma that I can’t swim my way out of.
Add to it that I’m going to be late for work which is gonna make him even more mad at me—not that I have any clue what I’ve done to piss him off to begin with— and yeah…
Hands settles on my hips behind me. I should be freaking out, but I recognize the cologne before his hands even found my body. I smile, taking in the scent that is Rex.
“Hey, beautiful.”
I spin in Rex’s arms and lean against the cold metal of my locker. His lips find mine for a chaste kiss that makes me want to skip the rest of the day and explore how he can make the rest of my body feel. He reaches behind him and extends a small daisy from his back pocket to me. I take the flower and bring it to my nose. The fragrance is sweet, making an unintentional smile appear. He’s been doing that a lot lately, making me smile. Being together like this feels right. Like I’m supposed to be happy again, with him.
“Here,” Rex says taking the flower from between my fingers. He snaps the stem and then tucks it behind my ear. White against black. A light in the darkness that is my life, just like him. “Much better.”
“Could you be any more cliché?” I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed but the truth is, I love it. The gesture, the kindness, the attention. He’s meeting my expectations of what a boyfriend should be and exceeding them. The only part that’s missing? We’re not actually dating. I really don’t know what we are yet.
Rex shrugs. “Probably. I can go full Prince Charming on ya if you want.” I turn and lean my back against the cold metal. He places one foot on either side of me and hooks his fingers onto my belt loops. He dips his head, nose brushing against my cheek until lips find my ears. “Let me make you mine, and I’ll treat you like a queen.”
My phone dings again from my shoulder bag, saving me from a question I’m not sure how to answer yet. Do I want Rex to be my boyfriend? Yes, absolutely! But there’s that lingering black cloud reminding me our time together is limited. Is it worth it to break his heart and possibly mine for a few weeks of bliss? Or will it be less tortuous in the end to remain in this weird friend-dating-limbo? “I’ve got to meet Cooper. He’s pissed off about something.”
“Want me to walk you?”
I look up into those perfect blues.
So beautiful.
Full of hope.
Everything about Rex is too good to be true. Sooner or later, the hat will drop and the way he’s got me feeling, I’m not gonna land on my feet. “If you keep hanging out with me, Rex, people are gonna start talking.”
He shrugs, slipping his hand in mine. He brings my palm to his lips and plants a featherlight kiss on my knuckles. “They already are. I don’t care what anyone thinks, Piper. I like you.”
“You shouldn’t.” The words taste like crow because I want Rex to like me. Goodness, I want him to like me. “Whatever this is between us, it will only end in heartbreak.”
“You don’t know that.”
But I do. There’s only four weeks until Gerald is released. I shouldn’t let myself get used to having Rex around. Shouldn’t like the way my hand
feels in his. But I do. God, I do.
“Nice flower,” Cooper chides. He leans against the navy blue handrail in the stairwell, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. If looks could kill I’d be dead already, but Death’s a finicky bitch.
I pluck the daisy from behind my ear and let it fall to the floor. I try to keep my voice steady, but inside I’m shaking. Things have been off between us this year and progressively getting worse. He is, and forever will be, my best friend, but still… “What’s up Coop?”
He stands up straight and steps towards me, stopping inches from my face. Cooper’s not aggressive. On the football field he does what he needs to do to win the game, but off the field he’s a teddy bear. This new side of him is a little scary. “You tell me, Piper.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I take a step back. Even with a few inches between us, I’m trembling. I’m not afraid of Cooper. He won’t hurt me. He’s just angry. Keep telling yourself that.
Cooper reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He swipes the screen a couple times before shoving a group Snap story in my face. Fucking Snapchat. There’s a still of me pressed against Tad with a “play” triangle on it. I take his phone and start the video. It backs up a few seconds, to where I'm dancing like an uncoordinated stripper and then Tad comes up behind me. Bits of fragmented memories come together as I watch two minutes of my life play out for the world to see. My head falling back against Tad’s chest. His lips finding the soft skin of my neck. I reach up and touch where I think they’ve been, where Rex’s were last night. And then it stops.
My gaze falls to my feet. I can’t look Cooper in the eye. The last time I drank like that was over a year ago. When I kissed him. I can only imagine what he thinks of me. Of my reputation. Poor, broken Piper seeking attention from all the wrong people. That’s not the case but I know Cooper. The pessimist in him will assume the worst. I scroll through the group, looking for Rex’s name. I find Logan’s and a few others I recognize, but not his. Satisfied, I hand Cooper back his phone. “How many people have seen this?”