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“Wrong,” he says blandly.
“No, you’re wrong,” I retort.
“Where do you live?” Ann Marie demands, still holding the wine bottle slightly raised.
“Honeycutt Road.” The man points in the direction he ran from.
Honeycutt Road?
“Your property must sit adjacent to mine,” I murmur, trying to understand if I’m indeed a trespasser. But then I decide it’s ridiculous to get worked up about it. “Listen… my name is Tilden Marshall. My friends call me Tillie. It appears we’re neighbors.”
I step forward and hold out my hand, then realize he probably doesn’t want to shake it because I just finished peeing. I drop it and wipe my palm on the back of my shorts.
The man stares at me in annoyance.
“And you are?” I prompt. Ann Marie merely watches, ready to bludgeon him.
“Coen,” he says curtly, slipping the buds back into his ears. “And you’re trespassing. Stay off my land.”
And with that, he takes off running right past us. We both turn and watch him easily navigate the trail, avoiding large roots and uneven areas.
Jesus… I can barely walk these trails without twisting an ankle. That’s some skill.
“Did you see those abs?” Ann Marie whispers.
“Holy eight-pack, Batman,” I whisper back. Not that he can hear us. He’s long gone.
“But rude.”
“So rude.”
“But hot, right?” she asks for clarification.
“Very hot.”
We bust out laughing, and she sadly offers the empty wine bottle. “I dumped it to use as a weapon.”
“You bitch,” I exclaim. “And I could use some now. The man caught me peeing, and I couldn’t get my pants up, and then I fell over, and shit, Ann Marie… I’m wearing granny panties.”
My best friend in the world… my closet ally… snickers. “I would have paid money to see that.”
I elbow her hard and roll my eyes. “Come on. Let’s pack up and go to my house. I’ve got another bottle in the fridge.”
CHAPTER 3
Coen
Wiping the showersteam from the mirror above the sink, I take in my reflection and run my fingers through my hair. It’s getting long.
I think I’m liking it just fine, which really means I can’t be bothered to go into town and get it cut.
Turning my head left, then right, I rub the beard I’ve been growing for the past two months and realize it’s time to let it go.
And it’s not just because the playoffs are over.
Yes, I might have subconsciously been letting it grow out as I watched the playoffs progress while holed up in my Coudersport cabin. A lot of that was simple laziness, but some of it was habit. I’ve been fortunate to play with the Titans my entire career, and we’ve made the playoffs every single year. I’m used to spring beard, so yeah… habit and laziness is why I still have it.
But now the playoffs are done, and to no one’s surprise, the Arizona Vengeance walked away with the Cup. They fucking earned it too.
