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Besides, Ariana already knew all about my recent troubles. I’d emotionally unloaded on her the other night, when I was supposed to be taking her out on a practice date. I’d told her all about how Lexus had stopped all her clinginess and relationship suffocation, and for a while things had been great. Better than great, actually. But then the pendulum had continued to swing, and this time into new territory. She’d come around less and less, and even encouraged me to go out, without complaint. Which sure as hell wasn’t like her at all.
“Look, I’m sure Lexus is around here somewhere,” Ariana piped in. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.”
I scoffed. “During overtime?”
“Umm… maybe?”
She bit her lip in that adorable way that always got to me. When were kids, it made me want to chase her down and tackle her, then tickle her. But now…
Now it still makes you feel like tackling her, the voice in my head teased. But instead of—
“Nice shot dickhead, that play was filthy!”
Zane’s compliment came with a brotherly smack to the back of my head. He skidded to a stop in front of Ariana and winked.
“We’re all going to the Shamrock; to celebrate,” said Zane, “if this asshole will ever stop bragging about his one-off.” He bumped her. “You coming?”
“Am I coming?” Ariana grinned. “Who do you think already called in the tables?”
Zane winked again and elbowed me this time. “That’s our girl.”
My friend was still riding high on our victory, coupled with the overwhelming relief at not having to block another shot. We were playoff bound, with a road trip on the horizon. Beyond all the bullshit with Lexus, I felt a growing excitement that had been years in the making.
“Wait by my truck,” Zane told Ariana. “Once I pry Axel free from those puck-bunnies, I’ll drive us over—“
“Are you kidding?” I cut in. “Think she’s gonna wait for your sweaty ass to get out from under all that goalie gear?”
I grabbed Ariana and pulled her snugly against me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it felt much more right than it should’ve.
“She’s riding with me,” I said, interlacing my fingers with hers. Ariana gave my hand a squeeze back.
“Don’t worry, we’ll pour one for you,” I punched Zane so hard in the shoulder pads he actually glided backwards. “Just don’t let it get warm.”
~ 16 ~
ARIANA
The walk from my classes at the Gage Academy to the aroma-infused comfort of the coffee shop wasn’t always a dry one. But it was always beautiful, even on days like today when it poured down rain.
I was in another great mood — the kind that not even a leaky umbrella I’d pulled from the ‘borrowed’ can at school could quell. I’d gotten fantastic reviews on my latest painting, and solid marks from my other classes as well. The boys had made the playoffs in the premier league. Already they were planning the drive up north.
And of course, it didn’t hurt that I’d finally gotten spectacularly laid.
So yeah, I was dripping wet and even ten minutes late by the time I arrived at work. But the coffee shop was extra warm, extra cozy, and smelled absolutely heavenly. I always loved working on days like today, where the windows fogged up and everyone who came in for a cup of something hot and steaming was just grateful to be there.
“You’re late again,” Katie called from the back, as I tied on my apron. Somehow, without looking, she already knew I was here.
“Sorry boss,” I promised. “I’ll make it up to you.”
She bounced through the doorway, carrying a full tray of chocolate chunk cookies. As she slid them into the case, I pretended not to notice that two were missing.
“You’re not cheating anyone but yourself,” she admonished playfully. “And of course the good people of Seattle who you’ve deprived of your skills.”
I laughed, but in the back of my mind I knew there was a kernel of truth to what she said. My skills had actually brought in a ton of business last year, when the foam art on one of my lattes had inadvertently gone viral. I’d spent ten full minutes drawing an adorable lion, even making it 3-D by building up the foam to the point where it looked like the animal was crawling out of the cup. Katie had rolled her eyes that day, at the time I’d apparently wasted. But a few days later when a rush of people came in looking for me to draw them the same lion — and other animals as well — my fantasy artwork had brought in some very real profits.
The rush lasted for weeks, and brought in hundreds of brand new customers. One of them actually prompted me to start up an Instagram page, and things snowballed from there. I gained followers fast. I started taking themed requests and did ‘Freaky Friday’ posts every week, plus whatever else I could come up with. At Halloween I drew ghosts and ghouls and graveyards. At Christmas I drew holiday scenes so intricately beautiful people were reluctant to even drink them. They sat there staring and taking photos until the artwork dissolved, but with each satisfied customer my internet presence spread.
“Take over the front,” said Katie, pulling on her curls. “I’ve got croissants coming out of the oven, and a banana walnut pecan loaf that’s not even…”
