Her tone is sassy, and when she blinks those ocean eyes up at me, I clear my throat, fumbling for a reply.Can she see it in my eyes? Does she know what she does to me?
I’m going to kill Knox if he told her how I feel. I shared that with him in strictest confidence, and if that little dickhead spilled the beans…
“Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to out you!” Her laughter is a bell. “Kimmie told me she drives you to your hockey games, and your mamma has no idea. That’s prettygood knowing your mom. Nobody can get anything past her.”
“Oh.” My shoulders relax, but my guilt over myothersecret rears its ugly head. “Yeah. It’s a lot of sneaking around.”
“Hockey?” Her brow arches. “Why not football?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I study the path ahead of me littered with fallen fruit. “If I played football, they’d all be watching me, it would be in all the papers. Every single thing I did would be under the microscope…”
I remember how it was for my “cousin” Austin. He’s not really my cousin, and I wasn’t technically alive when he was our high school’s star quarterback. I’ve only heard him talk about it with Edward, and I just know how it would be. My uncles were all famous NFL players, and my dad has a popular sports podcast.
“Hockey’s mine,” I continue. “It’s fun, and I don’t know. I just kind of took to it.”
Every year when they’d ice down the civic center in Sterling, Uncle Zane would drive all us kids over to ice skate. He couldn’t get over how fast I picked it up. He said I was a natural.
“That’s what I heard.” Dove watches me with a hint of pride in her expression. “Kimmie said you’re really,reallygood. She said you might have what it takes to play in the NHL!”
My lips twist, and it’s true. Still, all I say is, “Maybe. I really love playing.”
“So why all the secrecy?”
“Mom wants me to be a golfer,” I confess guiltily. “But I play golf like I’m missing a limb.”
“You mean you play golf the way most people in thesouth play ice hockey?” Her sweet laughter loosens the fist in my chest.
“Yeah,” I nod, lifting my eyes to hers. “I guess you’re right.”
“Well, I think it’s cool.” She pokes my arm.
For a moment, we walk in silence. Dove Rhodes thinks I’m cool. The sense of possibility drifts through my mind again, and I sneak a glance at her walking beside me.
Dove is petite, but she has really pretty curves. The neck of her dress scoops low, showing off the soft skin at the top of her chest. All my fifteen-year-old fantasies burn in my forehead at the sight of one gentle bounce…
I tear my eyes away, doing my best to be a gentleman, when my foot lands on a hard peach lying on the path. It rolls, and with a yell, I go down.
“Oh!” Dove also yells, and I realize I accidentally threw the basket at her.
She’s falling too, and she yelps my name.
I reach out, doing my best to catch her, but I can’t catch her and break our fall at the same time. So I throw my body between hers and the ground, landing with anOof!on my back, another hard peach right between my shoulder blades.
She falls on top of me, and I hold her waist. We’re breathing fast, and I blink straight up at the sky. “Are you okay?” I croak.
Despite the pain in my upper back and legs, I’m very aware of every place her soft body is touching my hard one.
Akela, her gray husky who never leaves her side, jumps all around us, lifting her nose and letting out a little howl-bark.
“It’s okay, Akela.” Dove turns, moving so her stomach is flat against mine.
She’s lying on top of me, and my heart thunders in my chest. I imagine wrapping my arms around her like we’re in one of those movies our moms love. I imagine rolling her onto her back as the music swells, as a beam of sunlight shines through our profiles, as I lean down slowly, sealing my lips to hers…
“I should’ve warned you about fallen peaches,” she laughs, wiggling off me. “You knocked us both down!”
“I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” I sit up, looking around at the spilled fruit scattered across the path. “They’re ruined. Do we need to pick more?”
“I’m not sure there are any more.” She sits back looking up at me.
