Billionaire. The word hit like a cross-check. I was barely a thousandaire. “In on what? Her, or her…” I hesitated, the word felt dirty, “billions.”

  Leo picked up on the bite in my voice. “Easy. It was a joke. And I thought you were just friends.”

  I paused with my hand on the dressing room door. “We are just friends, and I don’t let people talk shit about my friends, even if they are the assistant coach.”

  Leo pushed past me and into the dressing room. “I like this new fire, Moss. Whatever she is to you, keep doing it. It’s working.”

  Was sexual frustration the key to playing well? There was that old wives’ tale that some players were forbidden from having sex before a game, but it was something I’d never tried. Last night, just being within arm’s reach of Bronwyn had gotten me rock hard. But we were dating now, going back to the way we should’ve started. She called it courting, I called it torture, but I secretly liked the buildup. When the time was right, thrusting into her warmth, those creamy thighs wrapped around me, was going to be fireworks, or something better than fireworks.

  For now, I had to be content with dropping her off at her door with a kiss, squeezing her perfect ass, and going home to stroke one out, like I had done that morning– imagining her cherry red-lipsticked lips around my dick.

  But it was more than sex. Even though those lips around my cock were a hard image to top. Imagining her sleepy eyes when they first opened in the morning, feeling her warmth in bed, making breakfast for her, all of these thoughts, were just as good as the dirty ones.

  As I left the rink, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Bronwyn, no words, just photos – the sunset from the night before and the selfie we’d taken. The sky looked like it was on fire behind us and both of us had the same smile on our faces. She looked radiant, the best I’d ever seen her – it was like she was glowing.

  “Hey, Moss. You coming for carb-loading?” Mike shouted from his car.

  I shoved my hockey bag in the back of the Volvo and waved at the group of guys piling into Mike’s truck. I wanted to go for pancakes at the crepe house. I wanted to take the day off and go wake surfing with Jasper and Tanner, I wanted to sneak into Bronwyn’s bunkie and wake her up with a fancy coffee, but today I had an important reason for rushing to work. I was meeting a buyer.

  The line of cars exiting the arena all turned towards downtown Laketown, but I turned right to head to the marina. My stomach probably couldn’t have handled a stack of flapjacks, it was so tied up in knots. How much should I ask for the boat? I didn’t want to just give it away, but I also didn’t want to scare the buyer off with a high price tag. Just getting my original work out there would be advertising in itself, so maybe I should consider something lower – but I had thousands of dollars into the project, and it had taken me over a year to get her to where she sat today – almost finished.

  As the thoughts swirled through my mind, I felt myself getting even more confused. I parked in the shade and dialed Floyd. When he didn’t answer, I checked my watch – the buyer was scheduled to come in at seven-thirty – I had ten minutes to make up my mind.

  “Shit,” I muttered and scrolled through the boat buy and sell app on my phone. The prices were all across the map. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. The second person who could potentially help me out was probably sleeping. I debated for a minute and then pushed her contact number. As the phone rang, I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Mm… hello?” her voice was soft, and she definitely sounded like I had just woken her up. I could hear her sheets rustling in the background.

  “Did I wake you up? I can call back later.”

  “It’s okay.” Her yawn was audible over the phone. “I wanted to get up and go for a swim this morning anyway. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

  Early morning phone calls were new in our relationship and I could see why there was concern in her voice. “Everything is totally fine. I wanted to ask your opinion about something.”

  “Sure.” There was more rustling, and I imagined her sitting up in bed with her hair all over the place.

  “Do you know anything about your dad’s boat collection?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Not really. I mean, what do you want to know?”

  I had to tell her the reason I was calling, there was a hint of suspicion in her voice. “The other day when you were in the marina and you smudged the varnish on that wooden boat.”

  “Yeah…” Her voice went up at the end like she was asking a question.

  “Well, that’s mine. I designed it and have been building it from scratch over the years.”

  Her intake of breath was audible. “You made that boat? Dylan, it’s beautiful.”

  My chest swelled. I had gotten other compliments over the years, but somehow, the words coming from her mouth meant more than anyone else’s. “Thanks.” I was glad that we were on the phone because the embarrassing redness in my cheeks was burning hot. “I have a potential buyer or two coming in to look at it today and I don’t know what to charge.”

  Her voice sounded clearer, and I could hear the screen door opening in the background, she must have moved to the wicker furniture on her screened-in porch.

  “Why are you selling it?” It wasn’t the response I had wanted. I didn’t want to tell her the truth – I was selling it for the money. If I didn’t have to sell it, I wouldn’t.

  “It’s just a little project of mine – I had planned on selling it the whole time.”

  “And you didn’t think of a price until now?”

  “Um…” The temperature in the car was getting hot as the sun rose higher in the sky. “No, I mean. I was just doing it for fun. I just kind of thought that you might have some good advice for me. If I ask too much, they might not buy it. If I break even, it might still be a good deal, because people would see it at all of the shows. You know, it would get my name out there.” I shut the car door and hurried to open up the marina before the buyer arrived, the phone squeezed between my neck and ear.

  Her voice was confident but soft. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short. I don’t know how much your boat is worth, my dad’s collection ranges from fifty thousand dollar boats up to well, Calliope.”

  “Right. Okay. I guess it’s a hard question.” My footsteps echoed through the empty bays, and I flicked on the lights by the security panel.

  “Dylan. I’m going to give you one piece of advice. Well, maybe two pieces of advice.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Shoot.”

  Her laugh was light and airy. “I’ll give you my best slap-shot, that’s a hockey thing, right?”

  “I can take it.” I laughed; she had a way of turning a serious conversation into something fun.

  “What number would you be happy with?”

  The varnish shone in the fluorescent lighting. My unnamed boat had beautiful lines and could potentially be iconic – especially if I was able to line up the v8 from one of the dealers. “Thirty thousand?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “Thirty thousand. I would be happy with that. It would cover my costs and give me a little profit.”

  “Alright—”

  “Thanks, Bronwyn,” I said quickly. A car had pulled into the parking lot, and I wanted to polish the hull before the buyer came in.”

  “I wasn’t done.”

  “Oh. Sorry, about that.” I grabbed a chamois and started to polish like the Karate kid.

  “Alright, you’re happy with thirty thousand.”

  “Mmhmm.” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me – and I knew better than to interject again.

  “Ask ninety.”

  “NINETY?” The phone slipped out from where I had it gripped between my shoulder and ear. My hand shot out and caught it before it smashed to the floor. “Did you say ninety?” I asked when I got the phone back in place.

  “Yes. Here’s your lesson for today. Rich people like expensive things. If you price it too low, they won’t want it.”

  “But ninety. Bronwyn? It might be worth that from one of the big names, but I’m unknown. This is my first build.”

  “Good. That makes it even better. Trust me. Ask ninety.”

  The buzzer for the office door sounded through the building. “I’ve gotta go. He’s here. Thanks, Bron.”

  “Good Luck, Mossy.”

  I slipped the phone into my pocket and rushed to the door, my heart hammering. Ninety thousand dollars. She was insane. I opened the door. The buyer was waiting, he was tall and looked to be in his fifties.

  “Come on in.” I held the door open for the man, wondering where I had seen him before – he looked very familiar. That happened a lot around here, there were so many celebrities and famous entrepreneurs, that a flash of recognition was usually followed by the realization that I had seen them on the pages of a magazine.

  I held out my hand, “Dylan Moss.”

  The smile disappeared from the man’s face and he seemed to recoil, but only for a split second. He cleared his throat and thrust out his hand. “Peter Yates.”

  Fifteen

  Bronwyn

  A morning person. I never thought that I’d end up as one of those. But between making out like a teenager with Dylan and feeling like crap from the baby, I had gotten used to seeing the sunrise – and while Laketown sunsets were still one of the most spectacular displays in the world, her morning shows were almost as good.

  Instead of running through my morning yoga practice, I spent the hour lying on my mat, watching the sky as it shifted from gray to pink to blue wondering what the hell I was going to do. My hands rested on my belly and traced the subtle line of a stretch mark. The salve that Dylan had gotten from Thelma had made my hands feel so incredible, I’d started rubbing it on my belly too.

  As I made my way to the bunkie I noticed Minerva’s car in the roundabout, along with the house manager’s.

  “Minerva?” My voice echoed through the great room of the main cottage.

  Minerva appeared holding a dishtowel. “Yes, Miss.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’re preparing for the arrival of Mr. Yates.”

  “Thanks, Minerva. When are they arriving?”

  “It’s just your father.” A voice spoke from behind me.

  “Dad.” I turned and gave my father a hug. “I thought that you guys were going to be gone for a week or two.”

  My dad gave me a squeeze and then released me from the embrace. “Your mother has decided to stay in Vail for another week or so to…” He glanced behind me and whispered in my ear, “recover.”

  “I got it, Dad. And I’m pretty sure everyone knows what she does in Vail. You know, when she comes back with a new face.”

  He sighed. “I know, it’s a bit much, isn’t it? I always thought that she was the most beautiful years ago when I met her, with her original nose – the one you’ve never seen.”

  This was a side of my father I’d never seen before. I took a step back and realized that the lines beside his eyes were a little deeper, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Unlike my mother, he was aging, and he looked tired. But as a Yates, we didn’t really do emotion or conversation deeper than the latest stock prices or events at the club. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but “It’s nice to see you, Dad,” is what I said.

  “Same, Bronnie,” he smiled. “It’s nice to be back at the estate. How are you doing? You look… good.”

  He looked at me as though he were seeing me for the first time.

  “I’m doing fine, Dad.”

  “Do you want to go to the club for dinner?” His eyes glanced at my stomach, and I swore that he breathed out a sigh of relief that the beach ball wasn’t there yet.”

  “Can we do it tomorrow? I have plans tonight.”

  “Plans?” His eyes narrowed.

  The lie came out easily. “I’m going to hang out with my friend Jessie.”

  “Jessie?” He scrunched his brow. “Do I know this Jessie?”

  I made my way to the door. “I don’t think you’ve met her, she’s away a lot training for the Olympics.”

  “The Olympics.” He nodded his approval. “Maybe tomorrow then.”

  “Sure, Dad. Tomorrow.” It seemed as though he needed to talk, but that’s not what we did. As I walked to the bunkie, I made a promise to myself to put an effort in with my father. My mom was pretty much a lost cause, but I still felt as though there was a good person somewhere inside my dad.

  I spent the day slathering cream on my body and imagining what it would be like to live in Laketown with a townie. Not on the shores of Lake Casper, but on a street in the town, in a small house where you wave at your neighbor in the morning and have a garden in the back yard. But what kind of a job could I get? I scrolled through my phone looking at college courses that could give me a skill, any skill that I could use to get a job in Laketown. If I was going to give up my fortune, I couldn’t ask Dylan to take care of me and the baby. I Googled ‘marina mechanic salary’ and wondered what it would be like to live on between forty and eighty thousand dollars a year. I rubbed my hand on the down-filled sofa that cost ten thousand dollars – there definitely wouldn’t be one of these in my future, that’s for sure. But I kept going back to the photo of Dylan and me smiling together at sunset. The way I felt with him was better than the way I felt cooped up in this cage. That’s when I knew that I could do it. I could give all of this up to be with Dylan. I could sit on a second-hand orange and brown plaid sofa and work whatever minimum wage job I could get.

  Instead of dread, I felt excitement and wonder, like a flurry of butterflies had been released in my belly. There were three things I needed to do that day. One: was to see if Jessie was going to the Otters versus Pros game that night and somehow invite myself to tag along. Two: figure out what the heck I could do to make a living in Laketown, and third: was to figure out how to keep seeing Dylan, now that my dad was back in town.

  It wasn’t intended to be a disguise, but I would never have been seen in public with an Otters’ baseball hat pulled low on my head, a baggy sweatshirt, and mom jeans.

  “You’re unrecognizable,” Jessie laughed as I approached her in the parking lot. “I almost thought you were coming to rob me.”

  I looked down. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  Jessie shoved me and laughed. For a small girl, she was a lot stronger than she looked and I took a step to the side and rubbed my arm theatrically. “You look super cute – and incognito.”

  “That’s exactly what I was going for,” I smiled. Jessie was also wearing a New York Thunder sweater over the top of leggings. “Is Kane excited to be playing against his old team?” We walked together into the rink. Immediately, I was jostled around by the crowd. Everywhere I looked was a sea of blue and white. Before Jessie could answer, I whispered, “I didn’t think that there were this many people in Laketown.”

  Jessie laughed and hooked her arm in mine. “Everyone from Laketown and all the towns within one hundred miles come to these games. It’s ‘the’ event of the summer.”

  “I thought ‘the’ event of the summer was the fundraiser at the Club.”

  “Maybe for your crew.” Jessie tugged at my arm and we were like salmon swimming upstream through the crowd.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  That’s when I heard the whispers around us and could see the fingers pointing. I’d been spotted. I put my head down and pressed into Jessie, hoping to avoid eye contact or worse, photographer’s lenses. The bulbs flashed and I put my hand over my eyes. It had been so long since I’d been rushed by fans and photographers, I was out of practice at dodging them. To my surprise, Jessie had stopped in front of me, and photos and notepads were being thrust at her. That’s when I realized, they weren’t shouting my name – they were shouting Jessie’s.

  Peering between my fingers, I saw that none of the eyes were trained on me – they were all on Jessie. I put down my hands and while it was a foreign sensation, I stood back and enjoyed being overlooked. Jessie took photos with her fans and signed as many autographs as were books thrust at her. She waved at the crowd and then pulled me along behind her by my hand.

  “Sorry about that,” she shouted as we entered the main area of the arena.

  “You’re famous,” I smiled and tried to keep from breathing hard as I followed the super-fit Olympian up the miles of stairs.

  “It’s a hockey town, but they make exceptions for figure skaters if you make it to the Olympics.”

  “I’d love to watch you skate someday.”

  Jessie led me down a hallway and into a private box. “Is this just for us?” I looked around at the empty seats.

  “Yep.” Jessie slipped into one of the reclining chairs and opened a bottle of sparkling water. I joined her and took a second bottle from the ice-filled bin of drinks.

  “You can have champagne or beer if you’d like.” Jessie took a sip of her drink. “My coach doesn’t want me having any alcohol before the games.”

  Slowly sipping my sparkling water, I tried to formulate an excuse. “I don’t like to drink if I’m driving.” It had been the same excuse I’d used all summer with my lake friends.

  “I can drive you home if you’d like to have some.”

  “Thanks for the offer, Jessie, but I’m okay.”

  Jessie glanced at me before nodding and my heart felt like it stopped in my chest. Did she have some sort of female intuition telling her that I was lying? Oh, my God. I just realized that Jessie was going to be an aunt and she had no idea. My son or daughter was going to have an Olympian auntie and a National League hockey star uncle.

  Even though my mind had been made up, I was telling Dylan about the baby, the realization that there was a potential entire new family that could take the place of my uppity, snooty one, felt comforting.

  “Popcorn?” Jessie dug her hand into a bag and passed it to me.

  “Is this on your athlete-approved list of foods?” I took a handful of the salty popcorn and popped a kernel into my mouth.