by Elise Faber
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
A redhead with a sour expression popped her head out of an open door.
“I heard that.”
Blue winced but didn’t stop walking, and Anna hurried to keep up.
“Whole wheat crust. No meat. No cheese,” she called.
“Fine on the first two,” he called back. “But I’m not giving up my cheese until the season starts.”
Nutritionist Rebecca’s sigh trailed them down the hall.
“Run,” he muttered. “Before she takes it all away.”
Anna giggled but didn’t argue when he urged her to move faster.
She really wanted that pizza.
And the memory of laughing and running through the halls, clinging to Blue’s hand as they moved was imprinted on her heart.
“I just can’t do it!”
Brayden flopped onto his back dramatically, upsetting Anna’s careful piles of notes and textbooks.
She sighed, moving them to the coffee table and restacking them. “Can’t do what?”
“This!” He shoved a handout under her nose.
It was Thursday night, and they both had the following day off from school, but that didn’t mean the homework stopped. She had a boatload of pages to read, notes to make, and Brayden to take care of.
Why had she thought jumping straight in with six classes would be a great idea?
Oh, yeah. Because she was crazy.
And then there was Brayden. Awesome, wonderful Brayden . . . who was driving her absolutely bonkers.
Bonkers with a capital B.
He didn’t like that third grade had come with homework every night. He didn’t like his new teacher any longer because she made him redo work in class if it was unreadable—which Anna thought was completely reasonable, considering how crappy Brayden’s handwriting was.
But the thing he didn’t like the most was that he and his best friend had been split up.
Probably because they’d spent the majority of the previous year acting like loons in class, and their teacher didn’t wish their silliness on any of her workmates.
As someone who would hopefully soon become a teacher, she applauded that notion.
So anyway, third grade hadn’t gotten off to the easiest start, especially considering all the changes at home.
Angie moving in. Anna not around as much.
While Bray was ecstatic to have Angie in his life, Anna knew those kinds of big life changes didn’t come without growing pains.
And it didn’t help that Max and Angie had slipped away for one more weekend before the season started, a quick jaunt down to San Diego that Anna suspected had a lot more to do with adding to their newly formed family and less to do with getting some time away from the city.
They’d offered to cancel their trip when they’d gauged Brayden’s recent mood, but Anna had encouraged them to go.
This was their last chance for a break before the season really geared up.
And it would give her and Brayden some much-needed quality time.
The paper wiggled under her nose, threatening a paper cut, so she snagged the offending handout and glanced down at it.
After a moment, she looked up and somberly met Brayden’s eyes.
God, he looked so much like Max.
It was uncanny . . . and also a distraction from her trying to improve Bray’s mood. “This is serious,” she said.
He nodded.
She pointed at her textbook, the one that could easily be used to knock out a three-hundred-pound linebacker. “So is that,” she said, “and the fact that I need to get through about half of it before Monday.”
His mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I know.” She bumped her shoulder with his. “So, I think there is really only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Reset our brain with ice cream and Angry Birds then try our hand at homework in a couple of hours.”
“Can we watch Star Wars instead?”
She groaned, having watched it close to three thousand—okay, she exaggerated, maybe only three hundred—times. “Again? I thought you really liked Bomb Bird.”
Eyes widened into a pleading expression that got her every time. “Please?”
She pretended to sigh. “Can we at least get cookie dough ice cream if we do?” she asked, knowing it was his favorite. Not gonna lie, it was also her favorite, but sometimes cheering up her favorite eight-year-old had perks.
Smiles. Hugs. Calorie-laden ice cream.
“Yes!” He fist-pumped.
“Grab your jacket. I’ll get my purse.”
He was off and running for his stuff in an instant, and Anna took a few moments to stack her work to the side to do later. Probably during the movie, because he’d pick Empire Strikes Back—it was his, Angie’s, and Max’s favorite—and then Anna would strengthen her ability to quote its every line in her sleep.
She’d just zipped up her hoodie when her phone buzzed.
Dinner tonight?
Her breath caught.
Oh, Blue. She’d been determined to not like him from the start and then determined to not let him weasel his way in through her defenses . . .
Hopeless.
As in, that endeavor had been hopeless from the start.
Sorry, I can’t. I’m watching Brayden this weekend.
They hadn’t seen each other since their post-game pizza date, which had begun with a plethora of delicious cheese and carbs and ended with a chaste and friendly hug. But they had been texting or talking almost daily, and that was a feat in of itself.
She hated talking to anyone on the phone.
Except, Blue.
He made her laugh. He calmed her when she felt overwhelmed and stupid for thinking that this going back to school thing had been a crazy idea.
He’d become her friend.
And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone in enough for them to become that.
Max was one, of course, but easier for her to categorize since he’d also been her boss. Angie had been lovely, inviting her to dinners with her friends, including her, though there was a definite generation gap between them . . . or maybe a nerddom gap? Because Anna hadn’t devoted a lot of time to Star Wars or Harry Potter or Marvel movies, and though the women in Angie’s group had never made her feel unwelcome, Anna just hadn’t connected fully.
Don’t get her wrong.
Heidi, Kate, and Cora were fun and beautiful—on the inside as much as the outside—but sometimes people just didn’t vibe.
Then there was Stefan, who was safely in the boss category and Brit, who was always nice but extremely busy with hockey and a variety of charities and endorsement deals. Brayden and Diane were different, she supposed, because they’d both gained lifelines straight to Anna’s heart.
But neither of them really needed her any longer.
Diane had recovered and was dating her ex-husband, Pierre. Things were looking very serious between the two of them.
Brayden had Max and Angie, and Anna had to face facts. He was getting older, building his own life, his own friendships and activities that didn’t revolve around her. He wasn’t a little kid any longer.
Okay, yes, he was.
It was just that she had the feeling that his days of thinking she was super cool and fun to hang out with were limited.
Oh, that’s right. I forgot Max was in San Diego. Have fun.
She smiled.
Ice cream is in my future, so fun is guaranteed.
“Why are you staring at your phone?”
“Oh.” Anna jumped, quickly pocketing her cell. “No reason. I was just texting Blue back.”
Brayden perked up. “Is he coming over?”
“No,” she said. “I—um. No. He just asked if I would have dinner—” Too much information, but Anna was surprised enough by the enthusiasm in his voice that she was off her game.
“We should have pizza. You promised we�
��d have pizza one night, and Blue loves pizza.” He began spinning in circles. “And Blue’s favorite Star Wars movie is Empire, too!”
“Um. I thought we were going to—”
“You call him, and I’ll finish my math homework so I’m ready when he gets here.”
“—hang out this weekend.”
Guess not.
Because Bray grabbed the previously offensive handout and settled down at the coffee table, pencil in hand. He glanced up after a minute. “Did you call him yet?”
Spinning at the turn in events, but also knowing that was just part of Life Lessons According to Brayden, she took out her cell and smiled at the response that had come in while she’d been stunned stupid by her charge.
It had better be cookie dough. :)
Her heart pulsed.
Because he remembered.
She was smiling when she tapped his name and hit the button to dial his cell.
“Anna?” he answered, partway through the first ring. “Everything okay?”
Which was the moment she realized he had been the one to text first every time, the only one to call, and that fact just scrambled her brain further, made her tongue twist.
“I— Um . . .”
“Sweetheart,” Blue said. “Is everything okay with Brayden?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I’m sorry, he’s fine. He . . . um just wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over for pizza and to watch Star Wars because he’s conned me into watching Empire for the millionth time and, uh, I was just calling for that, but you’re probably busy and . . .”
She trailed off, verbal vomiting finally coming to an end.
But seriously, thank God for small miracles.
Like her finally shutting her trap.
In fact, she should probably just hang up and pretend this whole call hadn’t happened.
“I think maybe one of those brain-eating amoebas has crawled into my brain,” she blurted.
Oh. My. God.
Silence was her only response.
“Or I’m having a stroke.” Another blurt.
More silence.
Maybe Blue had hung up. Which was a perfectly reasonable response based on the crazy she was spouting.
Her finger hovered over the red button to end the call.
“I don’t have to come over if you don’t want me there,” he said quietly.
That was what he’d deduced from her verbal barrage? That she didn’t want him there?
Well, you were talking about strokes and flesh-eating amoebas, her brain pointed out.
Decidedly not helpful, brain.
His tone was gentle enough to snap her out of her own thoughts. “You can just tell Bray I’ll have to catch up with him another time, okay?”
“No. Stop. I’m happy for you to come over if you want.” She sighed and moved into the kitchen, pacing the narrow galley-shaped space. “I just—I’m not used to being the one to . . . never mind, this is stupid. I’m ordering pizza and ice cream from DoorDash. If you want some cheese and carbs with me for the second time in a week, you know where I live. If not, Brayden and I are going to eat it ourselves.”
A beat of quiet.
“Great,” she said into it. “Okay, bye.”
“Anna.”
She hesitated, finger over the end button for a second time.
“I want to see you. I like spending time with you.”
Simple words that meant . . . too freaking much.
“I also know that us spending time together after everything that happened still isn’t the most comfortable for you,” he said. “So my hesitation only comes from not wanting to push you into hanging out if you’d rather not see me.”
These words were sweet and kind and altogether too much like martyrdom for her temper.
He was still chastising himself because he’d screwed up.
But they’d been over this. They’d talked. They’d hung. They’d moved past that night and the hurtful sentiments. She understood where he was coming from, trusted that he wouldn’t say something like that again.
He’d spent the last few weeks proving that to her.
“If I didn’t want to spend time with you, I’d say so,” she said—okay, snapped.
So, dammit, the man could just accept an invitation gracefully.
“Come over if you want. Or don’t. It’s fine.” She started to pull her cell from her ear when she heard him say her name again. “What?” she gritted out.
“I was just going to ask you for your apartment number.”
Oh, right.
Because he knew her building but not her actual apartment number.
“2C. Call me when you get here, and I’ll buzz you in.”
“Will do, sweetheart.”
He hung up, but not before Anna heard the smile in his voice.
God, she was so bad at this.
Sixteen
Blue
“So are you and Anna friends?” Brayden asked around a bite of pepperoni pizza.
Which was another thing he had to give Anna credit for.
Good taste in pizza.
Nothing crazy, like pineapple, just a simple but deliciously meaty topping. Or well, she’d kept her pineapple contained to her own personal pizza and had left him and Brayden with an unpretentious pepperoni meat-fest.
He smothered his smirk, knowing that if he’d said anything along the lines of meaty toppings or pepperoni meat-fest aloud in the locker room, the guys would have razzed him to no end. He would also probably have spent the subsequent weeks finding all sorts of “meaty” things hidden in various pieces of his equipment.
Hence the reason he always passed his words through his Dirty-Hockey-Player-Mind-Filter before saying anything aloud in the locker room.
It was just safer that way.
“Yeah,” he said, when Brayden glanced away from the movie playing on the screen and up at him. “Anna and I are friends.”
He’d arrived an hour before, just as the pizza guy had been leaving, an extra carton of cookie dough ice cream in hand because showing up empty-handed was rude.
Hell, who was he kidding?
He’d brought it to bribe his way into Anna’s heart.
Or maybe just to see her smile.
That too.
Because when Anna smiled?
Damn, did he feel butterflies.
In this case, she had smiled, but it had been a harried and nervous flash of white before taking the carton and sweeping off into the kitchen, leaving him on the threshold.
That was fine.
Blue was patient, and he’d spent the last few weeks being especially so, but every text and conversation and second alone with Anna had brought him more clarity.
Anna was right.
For him, she was perfectly, absolutely right.
He would have lost his mind being with a woman who had no spark. He craved real affection. He needed fire and heat and teasing and . . .
He needed Anna.
Brilliant and funny Anna, her sweetness tempered by tart and heavy-duty concrete walls topped with barbed wire protecting what was underneath. Because those spiked strands were guarding something incredibly precious.
A huge heart.
So Blue was commencing Operation Win Anna Over, and he wouldn’t give in until he managed to make it underneath those defenses.
He wouldn’t settle until he’d staked a claim on her heart, until she accepted his in return.
He would win her over if it was the last thing he did.
“It’s good to have friends,” Brayden said with a nod, his gaze focused back on the screen and the fantastical battle on Hoth that had almost immediately put Anna to sleep.
The movie didn’t capture his attention nearly as easily.
Not when Anna was curled up on the couch next to him, head pillowed on crossed arms, ponytail askew, pale pink lips slightly parted. She’d flitted around the apartment, grabbing plates and bowls, a bag of precut apples from the fridge, fussing
with the stacks of books and the couch cushions before trying to wait on him and Brayden. If he’d been eight years old, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed that all that darting around was from nerves, especially since Bray was more focused on getting the movie to stream. But Blue wasn’t eight, and so he’d finally snagged everything from her hands, sat her down onto the fluffed cushions, and dished up two slices of pizza and some apples onto a plate.
Then he’d gotten Brayden settled before grabbing himself a few pieces.
He’d barely finished before Anna had jumped up again, declaring, “I’ll get the ice cream.”
Blue had followed her into the kitchen, watching as she scooped up three bowls of ice cream—into fresh bowls from the cupboard, rather than the ones she’d brought to the coffee table, but instead of commenting on that he’d made a mental note of the cabinet to return the dishes to later.
Jumpy.
She was so damned jumpy around him.
But he’d tried to remind himself that was a good thing.
Jumpy meant she was nervous. Nervous meant she felt something for him. He only needed to really worry if he got nothing from her—no nerves, no emotions at all.
So long as what she felt for him wasn’t serial killer or stalker or crazy ex-girlfriend vibes, he could deal.
And continue to be patient.
However, all that jumpiness was also exhausting.
Case in point, the gorgeous blond female passed out on the couch next to him.
Brayden jumped up, fist in the air, yelling, “Yes!” as Luke took down an AT-AT. The sudden noise made Anna startle, almost toppling off the end of the couch.
Blue reacted in a second, launching forward to catch her, before tugging her back onto the cushions and scooting closer so she was cradled against his side. Her breath was unsteady as she peeled back her lids and peered up at him through pale lashes.
“You okay?” he asked.
She placed a hand over her heart. “I am now.” She glanced at the table. “Death by textbook would have been really sad.”