Page 16 of Skating and Fake Dating
Browsing the menu board, I lean toward him, once more inhaling his somehow still fresh and masculine scent even after traveling. It makes me a little heady and my words come slowly. “Ooh. It’s so hard to decide. It’s PSL season, but that caramel apple cider latte sounds good.”
Carson orders both.
“I probably shouldn’t have that much caffeine,” I murmur, but maybe he mistook my headiness for grogginess. It’s probably better that way.
Also, these specialty coffees, so close to the airport, are markedly more expensive than at the Busy Bee Bakery, and I already blew my budget for this week. But Carson pays and fits the PSL into the cup holder next to his, tips generously, and then passes me the caramel apple cider latte.
Our hands brush and either the cardboard heat shield cuff around the cup is faulty or Carson is a pair of human jumper cables because sparks—light—crackle—swoon!
I stammer, “Thanks for this and the ride and for not making fun of my clothing.”
Carson looks me up and down, spreading warmth across my skin. “I was holding back.”
“This is my airport outfit. To get on the plane, I dress nicely,then in flight, I usually switch to leisurewear, but didn’t because of the turbulence, then after we disembark, I put on a clean outfit. It helps me feel less like I’ve been encased in a sealed tube breathing everyone’s recycled air for several hours.”
He chuckles as he turns onto the freeway. “Solid logic.”
“Also, because I’m going to my cousin’s wedding this evening, I want to show up looking halfway decent.”
“I doubt you need to worry about that.”
“Oh, but I do. My cousin Tori is marrying my ex-boyfriend Taggert. Well, we were almost engaged. He had the ring and everything, but offered it to her instead.”
I’m only a quarter of the way in sipping the caramel apple cider latte and the caffeine courses through me. That, combined with travel fatigue, makes me extremely chatty, which explains why I just broke the rules of professionalism and blabbed about my stupid relationship woes.
However, Carson is notably silent, letting me run my mouth, until he asks, “So you have family in Maple Falls?”
“Actually, that’s where I was born and raised. Talk about a small world. It was a big shock when the arena opened, and now we’re getting our own team. I’m guessing everyone is equally divided. Some people don’t like change. Others welcome it.”
“How about you?”
“Depends on the details. Maple Falls is super special. If the arena adds to it, rather than taking over or astroturfing it with fancy, rather than quaint, great.”
“You mean ice, not turf.”
My nod is that of an over-caffeinated cartoon rabbit. “If not, well, I’d do anything to save my town.”
He nods as if understanding. “So, your cousin and your ex are getting married. Seems harsh.”
“I won’t lie. I’m dreading it. But I keep telling myself that success is the best revenge. Though my friend Clara claims that happiness is.”
“You seem pretty successful to me. Cheerful too, despite the circumstances.”
A deep laugh rises from my belly. “That’s hilarious. Successful? I’m stitched together with mismatched clothing, clear coat nail polish, permanent marker to hide scuffs, and a can-do smile.”
“I’d say there’s more to you than that. You’re here with me, aren’t you?”
With him?
My laugh rises to hysterical decibels because that is hil-ar-ious until I fall abruptly silent and confess, “To be honest, I’m more hungry for revenge than anything.”
“Did you love him?” Carson asks as if surprising himself with the question.
I consider this as the landscape sweeps by, painting the early morning with pastel brushstrokes. The sunrise illuminates the colorful changing leaves of fall and sketches the outlines of tall pine trees lining the wide road with its generous curves.
“I thought I did. Now I think I loved the idea of him—someone with a plan, someone who wears suits every day.” I glance at Carson. “Not exactly my type, as it turns out.”
“And what is your type?”
