Page 12 of Off the Trail

“Still,” he says. “They came here because it’s the anniversary of his sister passing away. I think you made his entire year.”

“Jesus.” I glance at the family by the fireplace. They look so ordinary, I would never have known they’d dealt with that kind of loss. I feel like a dick and a half to be so wrapped up in my own problems. Making Max’s day didn’t take much from me. I used to love that about being on the team, too. We’d do volunteer work together, visiting children’s hospitals, donating to fundraisers for all kinds of causes. I let all that fall away when I got cut. But there’s no reason I can’t still do that stuff. I’m a jerk not to have thought of it sooner.

“Want to play again?” Blaze asks, tossing a beanbag in the air and catching it with one hand. Soft black hairs peek out of the flannel shirt rolled up over his forearms. I blink and look away.

“Nah. Oh—I wanted to ask you something.”

He turns his hazel eyes to me in question.

“Did you get to eat any of the fish we caught? I had some with breakfast, and it was seriously good stuff.”

“No, Nolan didn’t share,” he says, sounding unconcerned.

“That’s not cool—you caught that fish fair and square.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had plenty of fish from the lake before.”

It still feels wrong, but I guess it’s another thing I have to let go. “Well, next time I’m going to make sure you get some.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. That was fun. I’m totally doing it again before I leave.”

“Sounds good.” He waves goodbye to Max and his parents as they leave the ballroom.

“Wait a second, I’ll be right back.” I jog over to Marika. “Hey, sorry to bother you. Do you have some paper I could use?”

“Of course. There’s stationery at the front. I’ll get you some.” She closes her computer and stands. I follow her to the front desk, where she passes me a stack of recycled-looking paper with Sanctuary Lake Retreat printed at the top.

I write a few sentences with the heavy blue ink pen she provides and scribble my signature. It’s a note for Max to give to ballpark security. Later I’ll call Manny, the Laurels fan liaison—on the landline, of course—and ask him to make Max’s visit to the ballpark on Saturday extra special. I don’t work for the organization anymore, but I can still call in some favors. “Can you give this to Max before he leaves?”

“Sure.” She doesn’t read it, puts it in an envelope. “He’s a good kid.”

“Seems like it.”

“What else do you need?”

“Need?” I think about my stay so far. “Nothing. This place is kind of perfect—except for the rain.”

She smiles. “Tomorrow’s supposed to be clear.”

That reminds me of the other thing I want to talk to Blaze about. I excuse myself and head back to the ballroom, where I find him dismantling the game.

“Hey, I was hoping we could set up that hike for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m taking another guest kayaking in the morning, so could we do it in the afternoon?”

“My schedule is wide open,” I say, though tomorrow afternoon sounds like a long way away. “What should I bring?”

“Just some decent sneakers or hiking boots and a warm layer. I’ll take care of everything else. Snacks, water bottles, bug spray. Flashlights.”

“Flashlights?”

“Just in case.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, putting his forearms front and center. “You know, the lookout is a great spot for stargazing if we want to make it an evening hike.”

“Like, in the dark?”

“We’d walk up before it gets dark, but yeah. You’ll definitely need a jacket for that, though.”