“Attention, Bramble Falls residents and visitors!” Aunt Naomi shouts into her megaphone from the gazebo. “Welcome to this weekend’s events! The Autumn Spice Sprint will begin in five minutes! Participants should make their way to the gazebo now!”
“There’s Asher,” Sloane says, nodding at where he’s waiting to race with her. “Come cheer for us.”
I follow Sloane to the gazebo and stand off to the side, desperately wishing we’d left twenty minutes earlier so we had time to stop for a coffee before the race.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Pen Thief Jake:Are you coming tonight?
The Boots and Blankets Bonfire is tonight, and I’ve never been happier to not have to set up for something. I’d probably fall asleep lugging wood to the fire pit. The second this race is over, I’m napping to my heart’s content—or at least until Sloane drags me out of bed to come back here.
Me:Yeah, I’ll be there
I slip my phone back into my pocket.
I’m watching Sloane smile shyly at Asher as he tells her something when Aunt Naomi approaches me.
“Are you racing?” she asks. “We still have a spot left for one more team.”
“Oh no.” I shake my head. “Definitely not. I don’t even have a partner. I—”
“Listen up!” Aunt Naomi shouts into her megaphone, nearly bursting my eardrums. “Do we have any single racers? Anyone who needs a partner?”
The crowd goes silent and glances around.
“Aunt Naomi, I really don’t—”
“My niece needs a partner,” she announces, ignoring me. “Do I have a volunteer?”
I lower my eyes and try to shield my face with my hand, avoiding the stares I’m undoubtedly receiving right now.
“Cooper Barnett! Get your butt over here!” Aunt Naomi shouts.
My head whips to the Caffeinated Cat tent. Cooper’s gaze meets mine as the older woman he’s working with says something to him. When he doesn’t budge, she gives him a little shove. He shakes his head at her, takes off his apron, and makes his way out of the tent, garnering cheers from a few people in the crowd.
How mortifying.
“All right, Mitchell,” he says with a smirk as he approaches me. “You ready to win this thing?”
“You really don’t have to be my partner,” I assure him.
He stretches each arm across his body like he’s warming up for a triathlon instead of a silly town race. “Oh yeah? Well, you can be the one to tell your aunt that. And Betty Lynn, for that matter,” he says, pointing his thumb back at the tent. “I’m pretty sure she was about to fire me if I didn’t run this race with you.”
“What’s with these small-town people being in everyone else’s business?” I mutter.
He furrows his brow. “Thesesmall-town peopleare just excited.”
I flinch at the annoyance lacing his tone. “I didn’t mean…” I sigh. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m just tired.” And Sloane’s comment clearly got under my skin, putting me on edge.
“It’s fine.” He shakes out his muscles like he’s shaking off my snide comment. “For the record, I don’t mind racing. But I don’t like to lose any more than you do.”
He flashes me his lopsided grin, letting me know I’m forgiven—or at least that we’re moving on from it. Hopefully the former.
“Well, perfect. I guess we just have to win this thing, then.”
His dimple sinks into his cheek as I stand there with my hands on my hips, once again displaying a fake confidence.
Because, in reality, my athleticism rivals that of a newborn giraffe.
