Page 69 of Writing Mr. Wrong

“But Mason’sasking. And Alan didn’t want you to be a better person. He wanted you to be a different one. Mason realizes he can be…” Grandma Dot shrugged. “Someone who scares the crap out of innocent young men he sends to fetch snacks. Fixing that isn’t about changing just to please you.”

Gemma took a bite of her pretzel and watched Mason fly around the ice. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t think anything. She just watched and felt, and that was enough.

“Ms. Stanton?” a voice said over her shoulder.

She gave a start and looked back to see the legs of a man standing in the row behind her.

“Mind if I…?” A gloved hand appeared, waving at the empty seat beside her.

She squinted up as she twisted, at first just seeing the lights, but then a face…

“Jesse Parnell,” the man said, hand still extended.

Gemma scrambled up, wiping nacho chip crumbs from her jacket before shaking his hand. She didn’t have a favorite Growler, but if there was a player she admired and respected for his work off the ice, it’d be this one.

“Mr. Parnell, yes, of course. Sit. Please.”

“Jesse, please,” he said as he swung one leg over the seat and slid into it with a soft thump. He leaned past her, extending a hand to her grandmother.

“Sorry,” Gemma said. “This is Dorothy Waters. My grandmother.”

“Dot,” Grandma Dot said. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I read a lovely write-up on your after-school program last month.”

“Thank you.” He turned to Gemma. “So, Mason finally got you out to a game, huh?”

Gemma lifted her brows.

He smiled. “He may have mentioned that he’s been trying since you guys were in school together. He’s in fine form tonight.”

“He’s really good.” She felt her cheeks heat. “Obviously.”

Jesse laughed softly. “Just don’t go telling him that. He hears it enough. But he’s playing very well, which made me wonder whether he’d gotten a certain author into the stands to watch him.”

Her cheeks definitely flamed, and she mumbled something unintelligible.

“Mason tells me you teach college English,” he said.

“I do. I’m off this term, writing.”

He leaned on one hip. “Favorite book to teach?”

She smiled. “Toni Morrison.The Bluest Eye.”

His brows rose. “Nice one. I took an online university course lastyear, and every last book on the syllabus was written by some dead white guy.”

“Which is why I like teaching at the college level. I get a lot more leeway to pick books I think the kids will actually enjoy.”

He settled into the empty seat beside her, and they spent a few minutes talking book lists and books in general. Gemma got the feeling it wasn’t about books at all. It was about Jesse talking to her. Vetting her?

“I should let you get back to the game,” he said, unfolding himself from the seat. “Good to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

He paused, not quite standing yet, and looked out at the rink as Mason ran defense against the other team.

“He can be a real dick but…” Jesse glanced over. “That’s not the whole story. Not even more than a couple of chapters.” Another look at Mason. “Doesn’t mean you need to put up with it.”

“Oh, I don’t.”

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