“I have to.”
“You don’t have to,” Sean says in a gentle voice that makes me want to punch him, “unless you want to.” He glances behind him, where Lou is still on her phone, grinning and playing with a strand of her hair.
She’s probably texting the Janes.
Or her sisters.
Or Nash.
The thought knocks the breath clean out of me, like stepping off a curb into oncoming traffic.
“I don’t know whether to show Nash or toss it out,” I say, tapping my pocket where the drive is. “I’ve been holding on to this for too long.”
Sean nods. “Whatever you decide, Dad and I’ll be fine.”
“Dad won’t be. He has to have that surgery.”
“And you’re telling me that after two and a half months with Lou, you can’t think of a single other way to make more money?”
“I ain’t going on stage.”
“Then write a song, brother. Write an album. You didn’t lose that ability, did you?” Sean smirks, glancing over his shoulder. “If anything, I’d bet you’ve felt extra inspired lately.”
I elbow him hard, but the guy plays hockey, so he barely feels it.
“Yeah, well, you’re extra obnoxious lately.”
“Wow. Clever,” Sean says in that steady voice that always made me feel like the overly impassioned weird kid growing up.
“You like her,” he adds. “I don’t think you should do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Why are you so sure I like her?”
His look is as flat as any I’ve ever given. “Do I need to point Lou out to you? Pull up the Jumbotron footage of you hovering near her while she did a line dance?”
“I’m supposed to be her bodyguard?—”
“Pat. You can fool anyone else on anything else. But not me. You care about her. I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that.” He leans back into the seat, gripping my shoulder. “Don’t let Mom or Nash or anyone else mess with your happiness.”
Neither of us says anything else. We both stare out at the ice, where the Zamboni is making its final pass. When it rolls into the bay, there’s no trace that, only an hour ago, sharp metal was slicing into it, carving it up with reckless abandon. Now, the ice is unmarred—so clean and fresh, it’s like it was never touched at all.
I’ve never been so jealous of frozen water—of its ability to forget, to heal, to start over without its cracks tripping anyone else up. Without resenting the memories of when it was marred.
After another couple of minutes sitting in silence, Sean slaps my thigh. “I gotta head out soon. Let me meet your girl.”
We stand and make our way over to Lou, who stows her phone and smiles when she sees us. She bounces up in her puffer coat and gives Sean a hug.
“It’s so good to meet you,” she says, the warmth in her voice making it feel cosmically wrong that she could ever run cold.
“You, too,” Sean says. He grins between Lou and me. “Is my brother treating you right? He may be older, but we both know I could beat the tar out of him. Just say the word.”
I smack his shoulder. “Don’t sound so eager,” I mutter.
Lou smiles at us. We’re in the row one step below her, putting her just an inch or two beneath our eye level.
“He’s a green-flag kind of guy,” she says.
Sean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Patty? Do tell.”
