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“That I can’t say. But I will tell you that I was in LA for a couple of years after college, and it’s like the capital of the world for male models and wannabe actors. Trust me, every casting director I met would be drooling like crazy if they got just one peek at all that,” she waved her hand dramatically, “over there.”
“You were in LA?” Curious, Sid forgot about the men, in particular her guy, and focused on Poppy. She was a bit of a mystery. Beautiful. Super nice. Light. Always ready to help. But in the short time she’d known her, there’d been a few moments of long silences and shadowed eyes. Sid sensed something darker hidden beneath the exterior she presented and wondered about the layers she possessed.
The thing about living with pain, the kind that broke hearts and killed dreams, was that it somehow made it easier to sense in others.
Poppy averted her gaze and took a sip of cocoa. “I headed out there by myself with a Honda Civic jam-packed full of stuff, five thousand bucks in the bank, and a big dream of being an actress.” She was silent for a few moments. “Turns out the city was too big for this small-town girl, so I came home.”
“That takes a lot of guts. Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes. It was difficult…to give up on my dream.”
Sid wondered about that. She wondered about those layers and if there was more to the story. Just then, Poppy’s face paled a bit, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Shit,” she muttered, taking a step back as if looking for some way to hide.
“What’s wrong?” Concerned, Sidney glanced back to the group of men and spotted Link Major and a newcomer. The other man was one Sid hadn’t met yet, and if she were a guy, the kind who liked to misbehave, she’d give a wolf whistle, because damn, the man carried himself in a way that screamed danger and had the looks to match.
“Who’s that?” Sid asked.
“Link Major. He’s, like, this soccer guy.”
“I’ve met him. No, the other one.”
“Oh.” Poppy, smoothed out her long auburn hair, her actions entirely way too casual. “That’s Boone Avery.”
“Boone. That’s an unusual name.”
“His great-great, maybe another great or two, grandfather knew Daniel Boone, and there’s one named in every generation of that family.”
“His name sounds familiar somehow.”
“He’s an athlete.” Poppy’s gaze was locked on the man. Sidney didn’t say anything else, because she was pretty sure Poppy wouldn’t hear her anyway. It was obvious Boone was one of those layers she’d sensed in Poppy, and it was none of her business.
Nash Booker, Hudson Blackwell, and Beck wandered over a few minutes later, and all those butterflies that had been playing havoc with her stomach intensified to the point she couldn’t finish her hot chocolate.
“You having a good time?” Beck asked quietly.
“I am. Your friends are great. All of them. Really.” She paused and made sure Poppy was out of earshot. “What’s the story with Boone Avery? And why do I feel like I know him?”
Beck’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly recovered. “He played pro ball out of college. Was a first-round draft pick for New Orleans and came damn close to leading the team to the Super Bowl a couple years back. He is, or rather he was, one of the top quarterbacks in the league, but he up and quit when his dad got sick last year, and after he died, he stuck around. His wife stayed for a couple of months but then she left him and headed back to New Orleans, leaving their kid here with Boone.”
“So he’s raising a child on his own?”
“Yeah. A little boy from what I heard.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she murmured.
“What’s that?” Beck moved closer so that his body blocked everyone, and with the flames shooting fire behind him, his features were in shadow.
She looked up at him and in the darkness found his eyes. “It doesn’t matter who we are. Or where we’re from. Or what we’ve accomplished in life. Nothing’s a guarantee. Certainly not happiness.”
“You’re right,” he said, moving even closer. “Any one of us can lose the thing we value the most. That thing we need just to breathe. Sometimes without even knowing.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. The air shifted, or thickened or something, because all of a sudden, she found it hard to breathe.
“We should go,” she whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was flooded with desire and the need to connect with this man. Sid didn’t want to analyze or think or discuss. She wanted to act. She wanted to be alone with Beck. To see where this would go.
Beck didn’t say a word. He grabbed her hand, and they said their goodbyes and suited up for the Ski-Doo. Sidney was very aware that a lot of the folks behind were watching as she slid onto the Ski-Doo behind him. They were wondering and thinking and discussing. And damn, but she wanted to give them something to think about.
