Page 4 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

I brought two pitchers of our world-famous root beer to table one and picked up an empty pizza pan from table three. Someone who shall remain nameless (because she broke my brother’s heart and was dead to me) had removed all her pizza toppings and left them in a pile in the middle of the pan. Monster. I hoped she accidentally got food in her teeth and flashed her heartless smile to half the town before she got home.

“Dylan’s up!” Sheriff Savage called out. He was also at table three but ate his toppings, as good humans should. He couldn’t be blamed that his daughter was such a disappointment.

The Italian Cafe & American-Style Pizza—The Icy Asp, for short—quieted and turned to the screen. Mostly out of respect for Sheriff Savage (Dylan’s dad) because people had complicated feelings for Dylan after he blew off Shiloh’s funeral. I’d never met Dylan. He’d high-tailed it out of town the summer before my brothers and I had moved here, and he’d never looked back. Even my brother Bennett had never met him, and he’d dated Dylan’s sister (the pizza abominator) for years.

Yet, I could admit to a certain fascination with Dylan Savage. Winterhaven looked like the setting of an enchanted fairy tale, and he had been cast in the role of villain.

Dylan, the Peaks’ center, glided across the ice like his skates were an extension of his body. With his elegant moves and devastatingly handsome looks, he could star in one of those princess-y ice shows. But he was definitely too rough around the edges to be cast as the prince. Maybe the hot villain though …

A Grizzly player approached Dylan from behind, coming at him fast, and I wasn’t the only one who gasped.Come on, Dylan. Turn around.

We were all on edge after what happened to Shiloh. His parents were absent tonight, but no one expected them to come watch their late son’s team play.

The Grizzly drew close enough that Dylan must have felt the player’s hot breath on the back of his neck.

Without warning, Dylan shot the puck out wildly, turned toward the man behind him, and threw him to the ground. The Grizzly’s stick slammed into Dylan, and he collapsed unmoving onto the ice.

Sheriff Savage jumped to his feet. “Is that blood?”

Dylan’s arm moved, and then in a flash, he was rolling over the Grizzly, throwing punches. It took three players from each team to separate the two, and a wild elbow from Dylan smashed into a ref’s nose in the process, leaving the man hunched over and holding his face. The camera panned even closer, and I felt woozy at the sight of blood pouring from a cut on Dylan’s cheek. That was going to leave a nasty scar to go along with the white line that bisected his eyebrow from the three-person fight he got in last week on the ice.

Dylan was ejected from the game, and once the Peaks eked out a win, someone changed the channel to a golf tournament.

By the time the Icy Asps softball team, a recreational adult team sponsored by the restaurant, arrived looking dejected—followed by the Bookish Ballers with huge grins on their faces—the excitement of Dylan’s game had mostly calmed down, and the Savages were gone.

Spring ball was big in Winterhaven, and we were up to six teams (of various skill levels—the Icy Asps and the Bookish Ballers were by far the best) sponsored by local businesses. We rotated playing each other every Saturday night, then came to Icy Asp for post-game pizza and drinks.

A sweaty arm dropped over my shoulder. “We needed you tonight,” my older brother Bennett said gravely. My best friend, Charlie, who was significantly less sweaty but still damp, hugged me on the other side. She smelled much better than my brother.

“What’s the damage?” I eyed the Bookish Ballers setting up in one of the huge corner booths.

“Four-one,” Charlie said.

I winced. Ignorance had been bliss.

“Remind me why can’t you quit this job and devote yourself fully to the team?” Bennett asked.

“I’m trying to fund my dream of owning a rival fishing excursion company.”

“Ha.” He rolled his eyes. “Jules, Haydn, and I can help you out financially.”

I didn’t want my older brothers to always have to take care of me. I wanted to stand on my own two feet. Besides, they’d never approve of where the money from this second job was actually going, but I didn’t take it for granted that my brothers had my back. Even if I wished they didn’t think I needed them so much.

I stuffed my guilt away in a mental box (very helpfully labeled: Things We Don’t Think About) and shoved to the back of my mind.

Table six was seated, and I needed to get their drink order. “If I can get a fifteen-minute break, I’ll join you,” I said to Bennett and Charlie as I rushed past them. I was so busy pulling my order pad out of my pocket that I didn’t realize who’d joined the group at table six.

Max Eriksson.

AKA the smartest guy in Winterhaven.

AKA the hottest guy in Winterhaven.

AKA the love of my life.

“Hey, Josie!” he said with a dimpled smile as I approached.

Oh, and AKA thought my name was Josie.

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