"Different how?" I ask quietly.
"Like you're the only real thing in a world full of noise." She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "That's my brother being terrified because he actually cares about someone."
My throat tightens. "I know."
"Good. Then go talk to him before he does something stupid like convince himself you deserve better."
I laugh, but she's not entirely wrong. "He has work this morning."
"Then catch him at the café after. Dotty's blueberry scones are worth the wait anyway."
The Ashwood Café is packed when I arrive at ten-thirty.
Dotty's behind the counter, doling out coffee and life advice with the same enthusiasm. Lily's handling the espresso machine with the kind of fierce concentration usually reserved for bomb defusal. And in the corner booth—the one everyone knows is reserved for town gossip—Dotty's sister Marnie holds court with Diane, Barb, and Carol.
The unofficial source of all Ashwood Falls information.
"Piper!" Dotty calls when she spots me. "Come here, honey. I have a fresh batch of scones and approximately forty-seven questions about last night's game."
I make my way to the counter, smiling at the familiar faces. The café smells like cinnamon and coffee and community—all the things I didn't know I was missing.
"The game was incredible," I say, sliding onto a stool. "I'm pretty sure my voice is gone from screaming."
"That goal." Dotty presses a hand to her chest. "Gave me palpitations. Good palpitations, but still."
Lily slides a latte across the counter without asking—my usual order. She gives me a quick smile before turning back to the espresso machine.
"Now. When's the wedding?" Dotty asks.
"Dotty—"
"I'm just saying, June is lovely. Or winter, if you want the whole snow-covered romance thing. We haven't had a good town wedding since Patrice and Trace, and that was over a year ago. I'm experiencing withdrawal."
"We literally just won the championship last night."
"Time waits for no one, dear. Especially not for handsome firefighter hockey players with commitment issues."
Before I can respond, Marnie's voice carries from the corner booth, loud enough to silence half the café.
"Multiple teams want him," she's saying. "Preston was on the phone with his contacts all morning. They're talking serious money."
My stomach drops.
"Did you hear when he's flying out?" Diane asks.
"Thursday," Marnie says definitively. "Preston's handling all the logistics. Said Ryder needs to meet with the teams while the championship win is still fresh in their minds."
Thursday.
Two days from now.
The scone turns to sawdust in my mouth.
"Piper?" Dotty's voice seems far away. "Honey, you just went pale as a ghost. You alright?"
"Fine," I manage. "Just—I should go."
But before I can escape, the café door opens and Preston walks in, all expensive suit and practiced smile. His eyes land on me, and he changes course, heading straight for my stool.
