Page 84 of Ignite

“By unanimous voting, which did not include the Mettners, the inaugural award goes to Rylee Mettner Senior.”

I accepted the plaque with my brother, before being swallowed into the embrace of the Hawks.

“How, why?” I sobbed then looked to Campbell. “Did you know?”

“Reece told me I needed to get my ass to town for the season launch or I’d never be allowed to show my face in town again. I figured there was a girl I needed to come back and apologize to, but this works.”

“How can we contribute to it?” I asked Reece who shook his head.

“No need. Ethan came up with the idea and we all agreed to fund it. If you want to play first grade for the Hawks, you have to commit a few dollars each week towards the award. You and Campbell have the plaque, but we’ll get a copy made and attached to the VIP seats of the new grandstand.”

“Ethan’s idea?” I couldn’t believe it. Yes, having daddy’s name immortalized on the new grandstand was more than I ever expected. But I struggled to wrap my head around Ethan offering up his team to fund the award on an ongoing basis.

“Sounds like the feeling is mutual,” Campbell whispered in my ear before heading over to where his harem of fangirls waited.

“We miss him too, Rylee.” Korbin said, hugging me before passing me over to Trey and then Bailey. “We’ll do whatever we can to honor his memory and serve the RFS. Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”

If only Ethan could meet me halfway. I wasn’t asking him to go out in full RFS kit. There were hundreds of tasks that needed bodies or a pair of willing hands.

Unfortunately, I still missed him.

Rylee to Ethan:That was incredibly nice of you.

Ethan:Did you just say I looked nice?

Rylee:Humble much? I meant offering up your training schedule.

Ethan:Why, yes. I do look as good in training shorts as I do in jeans. Thank you so much for noticing.

Rylee:Says the original FIG JAM.

Ethan:??

I left him on open until the next morning. By the time I looked at my phone again, he sent me links to a dozen Pinterest boards dedicated to homemade jam-making.

Should I, or shouldn’t I?

There was only one thing for it. On my way to work, I stopped in at the grocery store, purchased a bottle of Doris’ homemade fig jam, and found the perfect card with a grinning Cheshire cat.

I had time to drop the jam and card off at Ethan’s house while he was still with Felicity and her teens at the training session before school.

The card only needed six words.

Driving away, I couldn’t stop laughing and one thought kept me in smiles or giggles all day. What would Ethan say to the card that had six simple words:

Fuck I’m Good. Just Ask Me.

Servicing the fire trucks had taken priority over the past two weeks. Blazes were taking hold of the National Park near Sydney, and spot fires were threatening to get out of control near the Brindabellas and the range separating the south coast from the Australian Capital Territory.

By the time Reece and the guys collected the last truck, I was spent. Physically, the last time I’d counted the hours I’d worked over the past month I’d been putting in sixty-plus hour weeks. I needed sleep and it didn’t need to come in a bed. Financially, only three jobs I’d completed since crashing into Ethan had been paid. All the rest were voluntary. I barely had the ready cash to fill up my work truck after paying my suppliers and tax.

Emotionally, I couldn’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with Ethan. We either needed to find a way to be together, or walk away. I’d learned how to live in the same town with one ex. I could learn to live without Ethan. It might mean never watching a Hawks game again, but until I could watch him being tackled and remember it wasn’t my place to care, I could swap football for knitting, or gardening.

I was so done with this stage of my life that I tried to ignore the radio warnings of the impending bushfire. It was only a matter of time, and I just hoped Mother Nature would wait until I’d checked on my horses before kicking me when I could barely stand.

“Ryles, are you there?” Korbin and Trey waltzed through the reception area and out to my workshop as if they owned the place.

“Phew,” Trey whistled. “Can you do that for my beast?”

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