Page 10 of Wake Me Up
“Yeah, he will. Makes me almost feel bad that I got a picture to show him.” He smirks. “Keyword?Almost.”
She slaps his arm lightly and playfully before telling him to go to the car.
“Fine, fine.” Waving once more at us and flashing us a huge grin, he heads back to the car and gets inside.
“Does he play too?” I ask, jerking my chin toward the car. “Hockey?”
“He should. He’s a rugged kid,” Logan adds.
Unmistakable pain flashes in her eyes, but she quickly rebounds it with a forced smile. Something about the simple question I asked hurt her, and I feel like a fucking asshole for saying anything at all.
“He used to. He’s, uh … well, he’s taking some time off. He plays a bit of basketball, but he really likes baseball.”
“Baseball, huh?” I say, trying to keep it light. “How does Cash feel about that?”
She chuckles. “Says he’d rather watch paint dry than go to his games.”
“I gotta agree with him there,” Logan mutters lightheartedly before holding his hand out. “We’ll let you get going so you can pick him up. Have a good night.”
She might not see the shit-eating smirk he flashes me before he heads back to my truck, but I do. He caught me staring at her, and now he’s making assumptions in his head.
His assumptions are probably correct. I think she’s hot as sin.
She stands there quietly for a few seconds before pushing her hair out of her face and giving me one last appreciative smile. “Well, thank you again.” She bobs her head up and down. “You two really saved my ass.”
“It was no problem,” I half utter, stuffing my hands into my hoodie pocket and awkwardly staring at her, not wanting her to leave, but knowing that’s fucking weird of me.
“Well, all right. Guess I’ll go pick up Cash before I’m late,” she says, wrapping her fingers around the handle on her door. “Have a great night, and hopefully, you don’t have to rescue anyone else with a flat tire for today. You’ve done your good deed.” She laughs lightly.
Before she can actually open the door, I snap open my mouth in a desperate plea to spend just a few more seconds with her, even though she’s married and I know it’s wrong. “Hey, so … that tire should be good for now, but it would probably be a good idea to order a new one soon, so let your husband know.” I pause. “Or maybe plug the other one. Either way.”
She gives me an uncomfortable smile and turns her body halfway toward me. “Thanks. It’s, uh … just me and the kids, but my dad is pretty handy with stuff, so I’ll let him know.” She looks at the spare tire on her small SUV. “Though I should probably learn to change a damn tire someday. You know, in case I’m ever down a dark, winding road with no service or something.”
She says something else before she pulls the door open, but I can’t hear her because all I keep thinking is the same thing.
“It’s, uh … just me and the kids.”
She doesn’t have a husband, so why is she wearing a wedding band?Only one thing makes sense. She’s divorced or separated, and she hasn’t taken it off yet. Either way, the way I see it, she’s single.
She’s single, but she hardly knows I or any other man exists, it seems.
When she climbs behind the wheel and looks back at me, waving, I hold my hand up. “See ya. Drive safe.”
After she closes her door and peels away, I watch her for a second before turning back toward my truck. I shouldn’t want to see her again because I don’t even know her. And she’s got three kids, a random wedding ring, and that’s a lot of baggage.
So, why am I suddenly the weirdo who’s hoping her tire goes flat so that I can be the one to save her again?
I have no idea, but here I am. Being that guy.
“Are you nervous or something?” I say to the kid I’m working with.
Well, he’s not a kid. He’s now an official NHL member that I get the annoyance of working with. But Corey is nineteen years old, so he might as well be a child.
“No,” he answers quickly. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” I utter. “You just look like you may piss yourself, and you’re moving sloppily.”
His eyes narrow, and he shoots me a hasty scowl. “No, I’m not,” he grumbles. “This is just … it’s a lot. All of this.”
