“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve been Cinderella, Rapunzel, Elsa, Glinda… the list goes on. Name a blond main character and I’ve probably dressed up as her at some point.”
The corners of my lips quirk up. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to dress up as anyone else to be the main character.”
“That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She laughs. “And thank you for telling me about Sunday. You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t have any actual plans,” I admit with a sigh. “I just… want to be alone.”
Most people think an anniversary should be marked in some way. They want to acknowledge the loss and share memories and remind me that my mom was special. As if I could everforget. Their need to process, to commemorate, to make it mean something, only makes the grief heavier.
When the anniversary falls on game days, I channel the grief into the sport. My teammates know better than to bring it up, and the ice gives me permission to feel the anguish without having to explain any of it.
“That’s okay. I would reschedule Friday if I could, but finding a time that worked for both me and Tyler was nearly impossible.”
The understanding and acceptance in her words is a balm I revel in. Until the last part of her explanation registers. I sit up a little straighter and my phone slides off my chest. “Did you just say Tyler? As inmyTyler?”
“If by ‘my Tyler,’ you mean the Tyler who plays for the Bobcats, then yes,” she teases. “He won my silent auction prize from the charity gala. We’ve had tomorrow night on the calendar for months.”
“He won the baking class?”
“Yes.”
I open my mouth, then shut it. I have nothing logical to say. I’m not jealous ofTyleras much as I’m jealous of the time he gets to spend with her. Yeah, I’m a greedy bastard. I want every smile, laugh, and nose wrinkle to myself. The longer this goes on, the more desperate I am for all I can get. And I’ll take as much as I can get it, as often as I can get it.
“Okay,” I say, although it’s definitely not okay, as I navigate to my messages app so I can send a text to Tyler.
Cameron Davies
Rookie. You’re baking with my girlfriend on Friday. I want in.
“Okay?” Kennedy asks, apprehension clear. “That’s it?”
“Yep.”
I could expand, but I’m too busy watching the three dots on my phone screen appear and disappear in rapid succession.
“Wow, that was easy. I thought I’d have to remind you that Tyler’s a very sweet kid and there’s nothing to worry about.”
Heat flares in my chest again. “Sweet?”
“Yes, sweet. He asked me politely if we could skip anything chocolate because he’s more of a vanilla guy.”
He finally responds.
Tyler Gold
I genuinely don’t know if that was a question or threat.
Cameron Davies
Does it matter?
Tyler Gold
Not really. As long as I learn how to make cinnamon rolls, I don’t care.
I grin.Smart move, rookie.“Something’s wrong with him if he doesn’t like chocolate. It’s a good thing I’ll be there to keep him in line.”
A breath escapes her, making the line between us crackle. “What?”
