Page 58 of Can't Kiss the Chef

Charlotte’s finishing saddling up her horse when I walk by her stall. The plan was to ride through the valley, but in true New York State fashion, we got an unexpected cold blast last night.

Charlotte giddiness about the change of weather makes perfect sense now.

“I don’t know Char, it’s been a long time since I competed. I still have a full class schedule this semester.”

I settle myself in Cookie’s saddle and let out a low breath. I run my hand down Cookie’s face.

“Tell your mom I’m in, but I’m going to need more arena time. I’m more than a little rusty.” I act like it’s a throw away statement as I ride past Nigel’s stall.

I’m supposed to be taking back my life. Competing used to make me really happy. With Dalton and the Westvale guys in full hockey mode and my roommate’s basketball season picking up, it might not be a bad idea for me to be working towards something myself.

A sense of victory flashes in her eyes. “I’m so excited!” She squeals and does a little happy dance.

I shake my head as I ride past her and into the heated arena. I take in the course Charlotte set up.

“If we’re really going to do this.” I say to Cookie, “We’re going to win.”

It takes a few runs, but by the end of our session Cookie and I are running through the course like pros. It’s exhilarating.

“You did great today.” Charlotte’s hand is laid flat in front of Cookie, a mint in her palm.

“I have to admit it was fun. It’s just different riding when you know you’re getting ready for a competition.” I work the brush down Cookie’s back making sure to give her extra loving after all her hard work today. “I definitely have a long way to go before I’m ready to compete.”

“You’ll be there in no time.” She pauses in front of Cookie’s stall. “And once you are, you’ll finally see that I am better than you.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say, Char. Have any plans for tonight?”

“The bar on Main Street has a two for one happy hour. So I’ll be drunk on margaritas by eight.”

Without Charlotte even asking I blurt out, “I actually have a double date.” Charlotte’s eyes lock on me.

“It’s um—um with Byron and some girl that he met at Jasper’s after his game on Tuesday.”

She tilts her head.

“Well, I kind of invited them,” I say, moving around Cookie’s stall, making sure everything is cleaned up.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” I throw my hands over my head. “I was vibing with her, and then he was all jealous that we hit it off and asked me about Dalton. That just pissed me off so I said they should join us this weekend.” I lean my head against the wall.

“He called my bluff.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Wow.” Charlotte inhales. “How are things going with Dalton?”

What’s the opposite of butterflies?

There hasn’t been this big systematic change in our relationship. I’ve just started to pick up on some things. He used to text me first thing after practice. Nowadays I don’t hear from him at all. He blames it on post-game debriefs or running drills after practice, but then Cora will see him at a bar in Hamilton, or Charlotte will see him at a house party.

They never see him with another girl or anything, but I have been friends with athletes since freshman year, and I’ve watched their teammates lie to their significant others, pretending to be single to jump into someone else’s bed.

“Good. I think.” I take a deep breath. “There has been this shift in our relationship, but I think it’s just because his season has started.”

“Well, you know I’ll be your eyes and ears when he is in Hamilton.”

I pull her in for a hug, “I know Char, and that’s why I love you.”

I’m not sure why, but on my way home, the look Charlotte had on her face when we talked about Dalton is all I see.

---