A grin overtakes me. I’m about to blurt, “It’s you!” but what if he doesn’t remember me?
I think in terms of memory games—Top Shelf Sean saves pucks and serves mojitos and motivation—but between us girls, I never needed one for Sean.
Thatneverhappens to me.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, his glance lingering on me long enough that I think he must remember me. He must. Right? He looks at the two older women. “But I just got home and had to come say hello to the most beautiful ladies in town.”
Eunice and Loretta go from bold to blushing quickly.
“Oh, you big flirt,” Eunice says, patting her silver hair.
“Emphasis on the big,” Loretta says, waggling her eyebrows behind glasses that make her eyes look huge. “Now get in here and give us a hug.”
She’s even shorter off the stool than she was on.
Next time your dad buys you a baseball team and you move to a new town, try not being taller than all of the women and more successful thaneveryone. It turns out it’s off-putting.
Who knew?
But Sean is a mountain of a man with probably six inches on me. Aldridge didn’t like me wearing a heel of any kind, but I don’t have a single pair of shoes I couldn’t wear with Sean.
Not that I’mwithSean.
“This is Miss Carville,” Loretta says after getting her hug. She says my name like she’s allergic to it. “She’s the new owner of the Mudflaps and is makingeveryeffort to ingratiate herself into the town.”
I grit my teeth and smile, hoping I don’t look as humiliated as I feel.
But Sean looks me over, and for a moment, it feels like his warm brown eyes are drinking me in. And then he smiles and puts his hand on my elbow.
“Kayla and I are old friends. Didn’t she tell you?” he asks, his tone cozier than sitting by a fire. His hand on my elbow is gentle, and the heat of it travels up my arm and into my chest. I don’t lean into it. But I want to.
Then Sean spreads out his arms and wraps me into a hug. “It’s good seeing you.”
Gratitude flares in my chest. I accept his hug, letting his (very, very) strong arms hold me.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear, his thick black beard tickling my cheek.
He gives me an extra squeeze of acknowledgment, and when we separate, he keeps his hand on my lower back. It’s not flirty or affectionate so much as supportive.
It’s a message to these women—to anyone who can see—that I have one friend in town. The captain of the hockey team. The hometown hero.
Shock sinks into the lines in Eunice and Loretta’s faces even as the back of my eyes sting at his kindness.
“How did y’all meet?” Eunice asks.
“We met at Sugar Maple Farms at the beginning of the year,” Sean says. “Tripp introduced us, and we became fast friends. Didn’t we, Kayla?”
“That’s right,” I say, patting his torso. It’s meant to be playful—the way I’d swat my brothers when they’re being turds, but Sean isn’t my brother, and he’s not a turd, and so when my hand pats his abs, I keep it there. Like we’re taking engagement photos, or something.
Both Eunice and Loretta’s eyes follow my hand, which I drop too late. And then they make eye contact, like they’re having an unspoken discussion.
“I wish you’d told us, Miss Carville,” Loretta says. “Any friend of Sean’s is a friend of ours.”
“Kayla’s not the type to name drop to win friends. She’s the type to win friends by being there for them, day in and day out.”
I look at him with surprise. That’s exactly who I aim to be. How does he know that?
“Thanks, Sean,” I say softly. Can he even hear me over the drone of voices? The music pumping over the speakers?
