Page 39 of Conrad

“Listen. I don’t know what to think. One minute she’s flirting with me, the next she ghosts me. I dunno. She’s a mystery. I can’t figure her out.”

“So maybe don’t try. Stop overthinking it.”

He frowned, following Jack over to his workbench, where Jack opened a vintage thermos and poured a cup of coffee. Handed it to Conrad. Poured one for himself. “Bro. It’s got to be exhausting being in your head.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You make everything way too complicated. You’re constantly reviewing your life, looking at your mistakes”—he held up a hand as Conrad’s mouth opened—“and if you’re not doing that, you’re trying to figure out how to navigate your next play. In life, on the ice, dating . . . You gotta relax. Stop worrying.”

“Please. It’s not like you didn’t let your mistakes drive you away from . . . well, everything.” Conrad glanced at Harper, who had set down her brush and now climbed into the bus.

“Agreed. So this is newly minted advice. Maybe you stop trying to figure everything out and just trust that God has a good path.”

He narrowed his eyes as Jack walked over to the bus to join Harper.

Yeah, well, he made his own path. Had to.

Conrad climbed inside the bus to a discussion about designs.

“If you want a king-sized bed, Jack, you need to put the bed across the back.” Harper was motioning out her design with a cup of coffee from Echoes Vinyl Café.

“But what if I want just a queen bed? I can put it along one side and then there’s a walkway.”

Harper cocked her head at him, raised an eyebrow.

Jack grinned, a twinkle in his expression.

And that only made Conrad’s mind go to Penelope sitting across from him, tasting an Ironclad cookie, ribbing him about his late-night sugar habits.

“You probably shouldn’t fall for me.”

“Conrad,” Harper said, “I heard you’re coaching an EmPowerPlay team.” She climbed up to sit on a seat while Jack loosened one of the last ones.

“Yeah. The Ice Hawks. How?—”

“Penelope, of course. She called me this morning, said something about eating a cookie with you?”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Jack said, glancing up at him.

It did, didn’t it?

Maybe theyweredating. Which meant, what? . . . He should text her?

Stop overthinking it.

He picked up his phone and pulled up her text from ages ago.

Stared at the note, not sure what to say . . .

Conrad

Hey. Wondering if you’re free?—

Nope. Delete.

Conrad

Hey. Just checking in?—

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