Page 6 of Penalties and Proposals

“Adapt or die, right?” I know. I shouldn’t be opening my mouth, and if I do, it should be to say I’m sorry, but I can’t resist. My lips do not know boundaries.

“Adapt or die?” Her eyebrows arch to the point I’m worried they may fly off her forehead. She crosses her arms, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. Although if I remember correctly, you were more of a throw atantrum or start a fight to get what you want and then pass out kind of guy.”

Ouch. “Okay, guilty as charged, but things have changed.”

“Things? Like inciting a brawl in a hotel lobby?”

“To be fair, they started it,” I mutter to myself as Dawson nudges me in the ribs with the pointiest part of his elbow. “And, well, I haven’t pulled diva hijinks like that in a few years. Maybe you didn’t know.”

“Dude,” Dawson says, half laughing. “Willa’s, like, the nicest part of all of this press stuff we have to do.”

“Thank you,” she says, nodding in his direction. “I’ve had some really bad moments in the past, and working with someone like you, Dawson, was a dream.” She lets her eyes slam into mine. “Would you believe I once had someone show up to set drunk, stinking of last night’s party, and somehow when I went to kick him off my shoot after he passed out, I ended up blacklisted from work, thanks to his publicity team?”

“Ooof.” Dawson shakes his head. “That’s awful. When was this?”

Willa is locked in on me. “About two years ago. Maybe three. Long enough that I had to work hard to start over, and now that I have, I dare anyone to try to step on my toes like that again.”

“I like it.” He laughs, blissfully unaware of the grief she’s giving me as he slugs her arm gently. “I knew I liked you the moment I met you. Anyone who listens to G. Love & Special Sauce is good by me.”

She slowly pulls her gaze from mine and turns her body so she’s facing Dawson only. “It was really good to see you,” Willa says, her voice warm and calm, all of the edge and irritation, which was obviously reserved for me, removed now. “I need to check in. Catch you guys later.”

Dawson waves bye, and all I can squeak out is a sad, “See ya later, tater.”

I can ignore the strange look Willa shoots my way, but thenot-so-subtle smacking of my arm by Dawson is something I can’t. “What was that? Later tater?”

I watch as she weaves her way through the crowd, disappearing into the line and from my sight. “I just turned into a little kid around that woman, didn’t I?”

“More than that. A desperate one who wants attention.” He crosses his arms and aims a puzzled expression my way. “What happened between you two? Was she in the lobby when you started that fight?”

There are three things I’ll never live down. One: the day I snorted wasabi because my best friend dared me. Two: the day I announced I was the best driver ever and then walked out the door and wrecked the car in our driveway. Three: being drunk and taking part in a fight in a hotel lobby with the opposing team … even if I wasn’t the one who started it.

“I’d really like to forget that ever happened,” is all I can muster.

“Considering you made headlines, dude.” Dawson shakes his head. “It’s on your record. Forever. No matter what, you will always be Noah Beaumont, a man in search of a second chance and also known as the Comeback King.”

Does reminiscing about my past actions sting? Of course. But they were my choices. I drank and it wasn’t pretty, and I managed to hurt a lot of people around me. I’ve been on an apology tour since I got out of rehab a couple years ago. I’m like a cover band—always on tour.

“Having public hate is one thing. I’ve built up a wall for what I read, man,” I say, scanning the crowd to see if I can find Willa. “But having my past in front of me, giving me grief, is another.”

“Did you apologize to her?”

Biting my lip, I shake my head. “I wanted to, but the words just didn’t come out.”

“Well, maybe karma is doing you a solid and putting her in front of you so you can finally right that wrong now.”

Righting my wrongs. I shouldn’t need a map for this, yetsome days I do. Some days I feel like I shouldn’t be apologizing still, but I have to accept I messed up and might be saying sorry for a long time to come.

A shiver rolls across my skin. Looking up, I catch sight of Willa as she turns her head. It’s a little obvious she’s watching me, too. I can do it now, I can tell her I’m sorry.

Summoning up all of the strength I have inside, I brace myself and take a step forward. Only as I do, a hand comes down on my shoulder, stopping me. When I turn around, I find Zach Hart and his brother Troy, who is also the owner of the arena as well as the Hawk River Lodge where we’re staying, and Troy’s wife, Kelly, standing next to Dawson.

“We’re headed back to the lodge but going to grab a bite to eat first,” Zach says, his eyes following my gaze and landing on Willa. “Unless you’re otherwise occupied?”

At that moment, Willa’s eyes slam into mine once more. She holds my attention for a moment before rolling her eyes and turning around, giving us a good view of her back.

“Um, no,” I stutter, angling myself toward Zach and his posse. “Dinner sounds good.”

“Fantastic,” Kelly says, clapping her hands together. “We’ve got a sitter tonight, so Troy and I need to make the most of it.”

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