The Good Luck Charm Page 9

  Carmen grimaces. “Probably not? You know what she’s like when she’s upset.”

  “I used to know what she was like.” I tap on the counter, memories of past arguments flooding back, when frustration and lust sometimes collided in the tornado of emotions exacerbated by hormones.

  “For a long while there she was flat, but since you came back, well…”

  “Since I came back what?”

  Carmen shrugs. “There’s some fire in her soul again.”

  I motion to the empty space she occupied seconds ago. “That’s not the kind of fire I’d like to evoke.” Now, that kiss in the panic room—I could totally handle more of that.

  “She needs time to calm down. I’ll go by her place when we’re done here and explain.”

  “What exactly are you going to explain? Why does she think you tricked her?”

  Carmen looks down at the counter and rearranges the papers. She and Lilah have very little in the way of sibling resemblance. From the color of their hair to body type, they’re complete opposites, but they have a few of the same mannerisms, such as the way they fidget when they’re nervous.

  “Carm?”

  “Well, I sort of did.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I wasn’t lying about being stuck in traffic, but I might’ve made it seem like this was the only opportunity for you to see the house and that there was a time constraint.”

  “Ah, fuck. Why would you do that?”

  She blows out a breath that makes her bangs puff up and settle funkily. “I was trying to help.”

  “By pissing her off?”

  “By getting you two together for reasons that don’t directly involve Martin, or under the guise of her being helpful.”

  “What does that mean? ‘Under the guise’?”

  Carmen tilts her head and regards me with that expression women have, the one that implies I’m clueless.

  “Come on, Ethan, she’s not just helping with Martin because she loves your family. I mean, she does love your family. It’s just…you two have so much history. It’s been years, but she’s never really gotten over you leaving.” Her eyes go wide and she makes a hissing sound. “Shit. I should not have said that.”

  “She got married.”

  “And that didn’t work out, did it?”

  “Lots of people get divorced.”

  “I’m just saying, things happen for a reason, don’t they? You’re here and clearly there’s still something between you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true—not on her side, anyway.”

  “But on your side there is?”

  I sigh. Seeing her again after all this time has brought back a lot of memories and all the feelings that go with them. And if I’m completely honest, I don’t think I ever really allowed myself to get over leaving her, either. The kiss in the panic room reminded me of how intense things always were between us, and as amazing as it was to finally have that again, I pushed her too hard today, and now I’m paying the price for that. “I was aiming for friendship first.”

  Carmen gives me a sly grin. “Oh, really? So the keep-your-lips-to-yourself-next-time comment pertained to a friendly kiss?”

  “She was having a panic attack in the panic room.”

  “So you laid one on her?” She arches a brow.

  “It was a good distraction,” I mumble.

  “Oh, I bet. Did she kiss you back?” Carmen is all over this.

  I rub the back of my neck, uncomfortable with the kiss-and-tell and Carmen’s apparent enjoyment over it. “She might’ve.”

  Carmen laughs. “No wonder she’s so pissed.”

  “Well, that and I forced her to finally talk to me about what happened when I was drafted. So yeah, she feels set up.”

  “Well, the whole point was to get you to talk, so mission accomplished.”

  “I wanted to make it better, not worse, though.”

  “Just let me talk to her, and it’ll be okay.”

  “Will it? I don’t know, Carmen. It feels like every time I get a little closer, she’s off running again. It’s like she has this brick wall around her heart and I’m the reason it’s there.”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Ethan. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

  “I’m not so sure it is. She was always such an easy person to love when we were young, her heart open—at least for me. It makes me sad that she’s so untrusting now.”

  “You have to earn it from her, and that’s going to take time. You’re not the only person who left her, Ethan.”

  I don’t want to do that to her again. And I don’t know where I’ll be next year with a one-year contract and no certainty of renewal.

  * * *

  Once we leave the Hoffman estate, I drive to the local florist, but it’s late, so everything is closed downtown apart from the bars. I stand in front of the shop’s darkened window and consider my options. I’m not planning on pushing Lilah any more than I already have tonight. I want to leave something for her so tomorrow morning my apology is the first thing she gets when she walks out her door.

  There’s a convenience store down the street, one we used to ride our bikes to when we were kids. With my allowance, I used to splurge on bags of bulk candies for me and DJ—something she couldn’t afford.

  I’m pleased to see the store still has them available, although the boxes I remember, with their tiny plastic tongs, have been replaced by a bank of clear plastic bins with lids and little scoops. I grab a bag and browse the selection of gummies and candies. I layer it with all of Lilah’s favorites; Hot Lips seem rather appropriate, all things considered. I add Watermelon Slices, Fuzzy Peaches, a gummy snake, bears, Wine Gums, black licorice—she was the only kid I knew who ate it and liked it—jawbreakers, and top it off with more Hot Lips. It’s an apology rainbow of sugar.

  A teen sits behind the cash register, tapping away on his phone, probably updating the world on his boredom. I drop the bag on the counter and slide my wallet out of my back pocket.

  He glances up and his eyes go wide, his phone clattering to the floor. “Oh, man!” He fumbles in his chair, almost tipping it over as he tries to retrieve his phone and still keep his eyes on me. He pops back up, slapping the device on the counter. “You’re Ethan Kase!”

  I can’t say the recognition or the excitement is bad for my ego these days. “That’s me.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Well, I live here, so it kind of makes sense, right?” I’m grinning. I’m not at the top of the league, so normally I go under the radar, unlike Alex Waters or Randy Ballistic back in Chicago. They couldn’t go to a bar without at least half a dozen selfie shots. Although, I think all the endorsements Waters has scored along the way—particularly the ones for prophylactics—have made him that much more recognizable outside of the hockey world.

  But here, in a place like Forest Lake, I’m more likely to get this kind of reaction. It’s novel for now because it’s so new. But I don’t ever want to take it for granted.

  “My dad was talking about you at dinner, saying you were a good trade for Minnesota. You used to go to my high school. Your pictures are in the gym hallway. You won the most valuable player award all four years. Man, the guys aren’t gonna believe this. Can I get a picture? Can I take a selfie? Will you sign something for me? I wish I had my Minnesota jersey.”

  I laugh at his enthusiasm, and his face goes red. “Come on out and we can get a picture; then I’ll sign whatever you want.”

  He’s so bouncy it’s hard to take a decent picture. When he does, he posts immediately to every social media platform he’s intravenously hooked into.

  “Got what you need?” I ask, after I sign a Minnesota team flag the store sells.

  “Yeah. For sure. Thanks so much.”

  “No problem. You wanna ring me through?” I tap the bag of candy.

  “Oh, right!” He drops it on the weigh scale. “You’re allowed to eat all
this stuff when you’re training?”

  I laugh. “Not a chance. It’s for a friend.”

  “Right. Yeah. Exhibition games start soon, too. Me and my dad have tickets for when you play against Colorado.”

  “That’ll be a good game.”

  “Yeah. It’s super cool. Do you know if you’ll be starting yet? Or is it, like, too soon to know that?”

  “Depends on how preseason training goes.”

  “It’s good so far, though, right? I saw somewhere that you’re, like, kicking ass.” He’s still bouncing with excitement.

  I smile at his enthusiasm. My performance at practices so far has been on point, so it’s nice to know other people are seeing it, too. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

  “I can’t wait to see you play.”

  “You bring a jersey and I’ll sign it for you—sound good?”

  “Cool. Awesome.” He keeps nodding and grinning, his face still red.

  The candy ends up costing twenty-five bucks, which my new friend Matt seems to think is totally crazy. I add a card so I can write a note to go with the candy. Once I’m back in my truck, I put the address Carmen gave me into my GPS. Lilah’s house is in a small subdivision away from the water, where homes are more affordable.

  Carmen’s car is parked in the driveway behind Lilah’s. It’s a quaint little row house. The front garden is neatly tended, as I’d expect from Lilah.

  I park my truck on the street and search for a pen in the glove box. All I come up with is a blue colored pencil. I can’t erase anything I put down, so I chew on the end, debating what I want to write. I decide the best way to go is direct with a bit of tongue-in-cheek, so to speak. I sign the card, slip it into the envelope, and leave the engine running because I don’t plan to stick around. I finger the dog tags hanging from the rearview mirror for a second before I open the door and hop out of the cab.

  My hands are stupidly sweaty for dropping off a bag of peace-apology candies. I can see inside the house since the door is open, and the screen provides a clear view through to the backyard. To the left is a living room, simply furnished, to the right a staircase. Beyond that is the kitchen, and straight ahead is a set of sliding glass doors that lead to an outdoor patio. A pair of bare feet are visible, as is the edge of an Adirondack chair.

  What I don’t account for is the presence of Lilah’s dog, lying beside her outside. She’s brought him by my parents’ house a couple of times. He’s too friendly to be an actual guard dog, but he’s far more effective than a doorbell. I cringe as his ears perk and his head pops up. He jumps to his feet and barks a couple of times, then presses his nose against the screen, tail wagging.

  “What’s up, Merk?” Lilah leans forward.

  She can see through to where I’m standing under the porch light. I lift a hand and wave.

  “Give me a minute.” I can hear the wryness in her voice.

  If I wasn’t holding a bag of candy and a card, I’d shove my hands in my pockets, but that’s not an option, so I rock back on my heels and wait as she opens the sliding glass door. Merk tears across the kitchen and through the living room, running in a circle and stopping at the door with a single bark. He likes me. Possibly more than Lilah currently does. Probably is more like it.

  “Merk, sit,” Lilah orders before flicking the lock and opening the door just enough that her body fits in the opening. When Merk makes a move to stand, she snaps her fingers. “Stay.” He whines but obeys. She turns her attention to me, eyes shifting to where my hands are clasped behind my back.

  “How’d you get my address?”

  “My parents have it in their address book because they’re old-school.” It’s a lie, but I don’t want to get Carmen in more trouble with Lilah than she already is. Although I’m sure it is in the book my parents keep by the phone.

  Her lips are pursed and her cheeks are flushed. I bet she’s been drinking.

  “Are you here for a reason, or were you planning to stand on my front porch and stare at my mouth?”

  I fight a grin, glad she hasn’t lost the sass I always loved. I meet her hazel glare. “It wasn’t part of my plan, or my reason for stopping by.”

  “My sister’s here, so…” She trails off, not opening the door any farther. Clearly I’m not getting an invitation to come inside.

  “Right. Of course. I wanted to drop this off. You can share or keep them to yourself—whatever you prefer.” I hold out the bag of candy and the card.

  Lilah regards the offering before she reaches out slowly and takes it from me. “You brought me candy?”

  “The flower shop wasn’t open; candy was the next best thing.”

  “But why buy me candy at all?”

  “To apologize for kissing you when I shouldn’t have.”

  She lifts the bag, inspecting it. “Where in the world did you find honey licorice beehives, and God…There are a ton of Hot Lips in here.” She graces me with a small smile. “These were all my favorites.”

  “Except for Sour Keys, because they were out. I don’t know if you like any of that stuff anymore or if you hate it like you seem to want to hate me, but I’d like another chance to find out, Lilah. I know I put a lot on you tonight and that you probably need some time, but I just want to know you again. I promise I’ll keep my tongue to myself from now on, unless otherwise requested.”

  I’d apologize again, but I’m actually not all that sorry I kissed her. It confirmed what I already suspected, that the chemistry between us is still there. It gives me hope that if I’m careful, this friendship could eventually become more.

  Lilah rolls her eyes, and her cheeks flush pink, but that small smile grows a little.

  Instead of pushing my luck, I take a step back. “I’m going to go now.”

  It takes an extraordinary amount of restraint not to say anything else, to turn around and walk back to my truck with my hands jammed into my pockets and the tip of my tongue caught between my teeth.

  “Ethan?” Lilah’s voice is barely audible.

  I turn but stay where I am, halfway between my truck and her door.

  “Thank you for this.” She clutches the bag close to her chest.

  It’s progress, like a quarter of a second shaved off my skating sprints—little gains that individually don’t seem like much but over time add up to something significant.

  Chapter Ten

  Hot Lips

  Lilah

  Everything okay?” Carmen calls from the patio.

  “Everything’s fine.” I watch Ethan get into his truck—which is already running—and drive away before I head back outside, still holding the bag of candies and the card.

  I flop into the chair and toss the candies on the side table, trading it for my margarita on the rocks. I have a rare late shift tomorrow, so I don’t have to be up early. Still, it’s my second drink, so I should switch to water after this, since Merk gets up at five thirty no matter what.

  Carmen’s smile grows as she nabs the bag. “What’s this?”

  “A bag of candy.” I state the obvious, flipping the card between my fingers. My name is written in Ethan’s rushed scrawl in what appears to be blue colored pencil.

  “He bought you a bag of Hot Lips?”

  “Among other things.” I fight a smile as I slide my finger along the edge of the envelope, careful not to tear it. Inside is a card with a sunset on the water. I flip it open.

  The same messy scrawl in blue colored pencil covers the inside. This is exactly the kind of note I’d expect from Ethan.

  Lilah,

  I promise to keep my tongue to myself in the future. For now, these are the only hot lips I’ll force on you.

  Yours,

  Ethan

  PS. Your lips are still my favorite part of you.

  “What does it say?” Carmen grabs for the card, but I hold it out of her reach. “I will eat every single one of these Hot Lips unless you show me what he wrote.”

  I hug the card to my chest. “You would not.”r />
  “Would, too.”

  “You hate Hot Lips,” I argue.

  “I’ll still eat them.” She scoops a handful of candy from the bag, as if to demonstrate her seriousness.

  “And then barf.”

  “Just show me the damn card, or I’ll dump the whole bag on the ground.” She holds it up threateningly.

  “Okay, okay!” I toss the card at her. “Now, gimme the candy.”

  She laughs and passes it to me. I covetously cradle it in my lap. I may be conflicted about Ethan, but I won’t waste a bag of my favorite candies over it.

  “Is this written in colored pencil?”

  “Yup.” I hide behind my glass so she can’t see my scowl turn into a smile.

  She’s quiet as she reads the card. When she’s done, she sets it on her lap and gives me an arched eyebrow. “Are you going to give him a chance?”

  “I already said yes to being friends.”

  “And you want it to stay platonic?” She motions to the Hot Lips.

  “I don’t know that it can be more than that. He’ll be traveling in a few weeks, so he won’t even be in town half the time.” I drop my head and give Carmen the truth I don’t want to face with Ethan. “When his contract is up in a year, he’ll be off to some other city, in some other state, unless Minnesota renews. I’m scared if I let him back into my world, he’ll walk right out of it all over again.” I have a life here, people I care about, a job I love, and a plan for my future. I was willing to follow him anywhere once, but now there’s so much more to lose than just my heart.

  “Or maybe he doesn’t get traded and he stays. It kind of seems like that’s what he’s planning for, doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” My worry is what he’s planning for me. Us. I might not want to admit it, but as much as we’ve changed, the connection between us is still very much the same.

  * * *

  Two days later I find myself folding my hands around a travel coffee mug. “Come down to the water with me.” Ethan’s lips are at my ear, his voice soft.

  While it’s phrased as a statement, it comes out more like a question.