She shook her head. “And now I’m locked out.”
I sucked in my top lip, thinking of ways to make it better for her, but I couldn’t completely fix this. With Ali, I had to be okay with knowing nothing would ever come before figure skating. It would be her first priority until the dayshe retired. And that was perfectly okay with me because hockey had to be number one for me too, at least for a little. But maybe I could show her there was still life outside this place. The rink wasn’teverything. Not by a long shot. “Come on.”
“Huh?” Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“Let’s cheer you up.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you have practice?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I can skip one.”
She looked up at me like I lost my ever-loving mind. “Areyouokay? Did you hit your head or something? Take a rogue puck to the head?” She looked around. “Where’s Kappy? Did he do it?”
“No,” I laughed, “I’m fine. Let’s go, I’ll just tell them I’m sick.”
She continued staring at me strangely. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure,” I said with a grin.
It was the most sure I’d been about anything in a long time.
With Ali secure in the passenger seat of my truck, I fished out my favorite mixed CD and popped it into the player.
“Where are we going?” she asked, a little excitement bleeding into her face.
I shrugged. “Wherever we want.”
Her face broke into the most dazzling smile, and it made my day—no, it made my whole year.
The first few chords of “With or Without You” drifted through my truck’s speakers and I turned it up.
“Best song,” I said, nodding to the beat. “Nothing beats this build.”
Her face lit up with amusement. “This? Isn’t this old?”
“Hey, just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s not good,” I countered.
She gave me a skeptical look. “Okay, but I was hoping for Taylor Swift.”
I smirked. “She’s track number four, we’ll get to her.”
She let out a delighted little screech. “Jameson Patrick McQuaid, you listen to Taylor Swift? Since when?"
Since you told me she was your favorite, I wanted to say, but instead, I just gave her a grin as I took off out of the parking lot.
_________
A half hour later, I was pulling into the long gravel driveway that led up to my family’s tree farm and nursery.
“Is your dad Herb?” she asked, pointing to the sign that read ‘Herb’s Gardens and Construction.’
“Nah, Herb was my grandad,” I explained. “We took this place over whenhe passed. I think we just keep up the tree farm and gardens because of the sentimental value. And my grandma would kill us if it went under. My dad’s usually busy with the construction side of the business next door. You probably won’t see him.” I swallowed hard. Ihopedshe wouldn't see him or else I’d have some explaining to do.
“Wait there.” Hopping out of my truck, I rounded it to open the door for her, then extended a hand to help her down.
“You don’t have to help me,” she said shyly. “I only broke my arm.”
I frowned. The fact that she wasn’t used to a guy getting her door for her sat weird with me. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I said as her feet hit the gravel. “Even if you weren’t injured, I’d still be getting your door, Ali.”
