The Rivals of Copper County (Copper County #2)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

JASPER

Really, at a certain point, I either had to get comfortable with bad decisions or stop fucking making them.

“ Fwweeeeet . Fweet, fweet! ” When Watt’s shrill coach’s whistle split the air for the dozenth time in five minutes, I tried to ignore it and focus on the stretching I’d been doing with a small cadre of players on the opposite side of the rink… but like so many things related to Watt Bartlett, ignoring him was easier in theory than in practice.

See also: betting the man I’d become his super-platonic bestie when what I really wanted was to kiss the ever-living fuck out of him again.

“Great job, Kip,” I said to the player on my left as he dipped gracefully into a forward bend. “Have you noticed how much your flexibility has improved in the past two weeks? Your reach is longer, and that’s really going to help you when you’re in the net, I think.”

Kip gave me a grin. “Thanks, Coach Lancaster. It’s definitely getting easier.”

“Awesome. Positive attitude is key. Hey, Zach, engage the front of your thighs and your core, and let your spine hang to get the deepest stretch. Like this…” I bent over to demonstrate. “Perfect. Can you feel your vertebrae realigning?”

“I think so, yeah.” Zach shot me a sideways smile that made him look like an upside-down poster of a teenage heartthrob. “Nice trick. Now I’ll be three inches taller than Derry.”

Derry snorted without looking up. “Aw. It’s important to have dreams, buddy. Even if you’ll never, ever achieve them.”

“I don’t blame you for not accepting the reality, Dermott,” Zach teased. “Having a friend who’s better-looking than you and smarter and taller? It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Boys, you are interrupting my peaceful yoga flow, damn it,” I snapped, and the kids laughed. “Okay, after a few breaths, round up slowly. Just don’t stand too fast, or you’ll get light-headed?—”

“ Fweet! Jasper! Fweet! ”

I snapped up and whirled to face the tallest, broadest, sexiest bad decision I’d made this week—my once and future best friend—and nearly lost my balance as the head rush had me overcorrecting on my stupid, slippery skates.

I pressed a hand to my forehead. “What now ?” I snapped.

Watt glided toward me with zero effort, grabbing my elbow to keep me from falling. He glanced pointedly from me to the players’ bench, where most of the team was taking a water break, to the rows upon rows of parents who’d come to watch another Friday practice and raised an eyebrow.

Right . Shit.

I forced a smile. “I meant… did you have something to te ll me, bestest pal? Some little nuggets of friendly stretching wisdom, perhaps, that you longed to share?”

Watt’s lips twitched. “I think you’ve got the situation well in hand. Hey, good range of motion there, Kip.”

“Thanks, Coach!”

“You, too, Derry,” he offered. “Zach.”

Derry gave a grudging “Thanks,” and after looking between them for a second, Zach copied him loyally.

Watt didn’t sigh, but I could tell he wanted to. “Water break, guys,” he said, nodding toward the rest of the team, who had already assembled in the players’ box.

I regarded the box—and, more specifically, the leagues and leagues of ice between it and myself—with resignation. Picking my way out here without falling on my face had been an adventure. One I wasn’t looking forward to repeating on the way back.

Watt let me go so he could glide backward, crossing his feet over one another in a move that looked extremely complex to a person who couldn’t manage to skate forward while standing upright.

“Something bothering you, Jasper?” he said, his teasing voice pitched low so only I could hear. “Are your skates laced too tight? You seem tense.”

I nearly laughed out loud. The tightness of my laces was the least of my concerns.

This week had been five years long, and I was trying to practice mindfulness and stay grounded in the moment, but it was tough. I wanted nothing more than to tell Watt all about what was bothering me—to just throw myself against his broad chest and beg him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be okay—but where would I even begin ?

With the house that seemed to breed collectibles while I slept?

Or the attorney who’d told me as a friend of a friend that I’d be better off saving my pennies than filing a suit against Martin that I couldn’t win?

Or Martin, who’d decided to break a year of blissful silence by texting three times, begging me to “talk, please, sweetness,” making me wonder if he’d gotten me confused with his new boyfriend since he’d never called me pet names in his life?

Or the skates on my feet that refused to obey the laws of physics?

Or Kayla, who’d been giving Watt curled-finger waves from the sidelines since the start of practice today while doing a rhyming song and dance routine she called the “Marmot Cheer,” which might haunt my nightmares unto death?

Or Watt, himself, with his sexy grin and broad shoulders, who taunted me in my dreams with memories of our kiss and taunted me in real life by being so freaking kind and funny and capable while also daring me to “lace up” for practice to show the kids how to “acquire a new skill” and giving me a bland, infuriating “ Tsk . That doesn’t seem very friendly , Jasper” whenever I threatened to make him eat his whistle, but who’d actively bet against our friendship?

I couldn’t just dump all of that on him, obviously. I was Watt’s friend, but he wasn’t mine… yet.

“Nope. I’m good,” I said firmly. When talking with Watt, it was somehow harder to keep my grip on the practiced smile I usually wore like a second skin. “Just enjoying doing… the hockey… with my good buddy.” I winked. “You’re the buddy, by the way.”

“Uh-huh. You know, it’s funny…” He stroked his lower li p with his thumb. “For someone who’s as much of a die-hard fan of the hockey as you are?—”

“I prefer hockey aficionado,” I shot back. I waved a hand in the air before folding my arms over my chest. “Go on.”

“Well, I would have expected you to be watching the kids doing their positional drills rather than leaving me to my own devices.” He skated in a tight circle—the fucker was definitely showing off, and I definitely didn’t find it hella sexy—before returning to stand in front of me. “I mean, how will they cope without your insightful and thought-provoking critiques? When you yelled, ‘ Run the puck, Derry ,’ the other day, I could see him really digesting that and thinking about hockey in a whole new way.”

I frowned fiercely. Was this asshole seriously teasing me out of my mood right now? Why was it fucking working ?

“I was watching. I watched the whole time,” I lied. “You see, Watt, when hockey comes as easily to a person as it does to me?—”

“Practically second nature,” he said solemnly.

“—you don’t have to devote your entire attention to it in order to understand what’s happening.”

“Ahhh.” He nodded. “Pardon… just for my own clarification, were you watching between your legs and upside down while you were stretching? Or do you have a different eye somewhere on your body? Your asshole, perhaps?”

I opened my mouth and shut it. “ Neither ,” I bit out. “It’s more of an instinctive thing. A… a psychic knowing.”

“I see.”

“Someday, you’ll get there, Watt.” I cocked my hip insouciantly…

And promptly ended up chest down on the ice with an oof .

“Will I, though?” Watt heaved a sigh and extended a hand to help me up. “Follow-up question: Is randomly falling also instinctive? Or is that a skill you acquired on purpose?”

I ignored his hand and instead braced myself on my hands and feet—which, like everything with these fucking skates—was complicated by the blades.

“Falling? Pfft. I’m doing push-ups,” I said gaily as I levered myself up and down. “It’s a little addition to my routine that I like to call spontaneous conditioning . Or possibly stop, drop, and condition. I’m still workshopping it.”

“Astounding.” Suppressed laughter bubbled in his voice. “Truly astounding. Just think, I played hockey for years, but I might never have learned this if I hadn’t dared you to wear skates for practice this week.”

“Yes.” I glared up at him—at his gorgeous hazel eyes and sexy, barely restrained grin—and nearly laughed, too, despite the ice stinging my palms. “Just. Think.”

“Oh my heck!” a voice called from the sidelines. “Jasper? Or Watt? Could I have a quick word? I have a teeny, tiny little concern about the team.”

I sighed as I struggled to my feet. “Come on,” I said.

Watt hesitated. “You know, I think you can handle the parent interaction,” he said as he steadied me. “It makes sense, as the true hockey aficionado of the two of us. And one of us has to go get the guys ready for a quick scrimmage anyway, so…”

“What? No!” I whispered. “She called both of… Get back here, coward!” I cried.

But Watt was already fweet ing his whistle at the team as he skated away.

Fuck .

I slowly, painstakingly picked my way over to the side of the rink—the boards , as those of us who played professional hockey called it—and gave Kayla a charming paper smile while holding on to the railing with both hands for balance. “Kayla! Hi. Aren’t you a vision in pink today?”

“Oh.” She glanced down at her shiny pink leggings, oversized pink sweatshirt, pink manicure, and pink sneakers. “Thank you, Jasper. It’s not easy being a Bright Spring in autumn, you know.”

I nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Never a truer word. So what can I help you with? You’ll have to make do with me…” I shot Watt a glare across the ice. “…since my co-coach is off doing coachy stuff.”

“Actually, that’s perfect! You’re really the one I wanted to talk to, anyway. You know I’m the head of the Marmot Hockey Moms, right?” She pulled her hands up into pink claws and unleashed a vicious marmot hiss. “ Go, Marmots !”

“Right. Yeah. Go, Marmots.” I returned her hiss half-heartedly.

“Well, on behalf of the other parents, I wanted to thank you, sincerely, for helping out with the kids…”

“Oh,” I said, touched. “God, no need to thank me. It’s my job, and I really enjoy it. Zach, in particular, has a great attitude. Did you see him stretching out there? His range of motion has improved, and he said our mindset work is really helping him. I don’t know if he told you, but he got an A-plus on his history assignment, too.” I leaned toward her confidingly. “I swear, if there were a higher grade, I’d have given it to him. I told the kids to use their imaginations and think outside the box, but I was freaking blown away when he took the time to turn his essay on the Salem witch trials into a moving, full-blown monologue from a condemned?—”

“He mentioned that.” Kayla’s smile seemed a bit brittle. “That’s the other part of what I wanted to talk to you about.” She knit her fingers together. “ The thing is, Jasper, I—I mean we , the parents — truly do appreciate what you’re doing… but when you’re asking the kids to think outside the box, have you considered that maybe the boxes are there for a reason?”

I blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“Coach Monroe understood that being a successful student athlete is all about balance. Schoolwork is important—gosh, I’m all about literacy—but it’s only one component of success. The kids also need their teachers to support their non -academic endeavors.”

“Sure. I do support?—”

“For example,” Kayla interrupted. “Coach Monroe sometimes let the kids do their homework during class on game days. And she definitely would not have given them an assignment that might take up their whole weekend and fill their heads with distracting ideas right at the time when they most need to buckle down and focus on their training if they want to get a scholarship.” She cocked her head. “That’s not something to be taken lightly.”

I frowned. “I… I don’t take it lightly, I promise. I’ve been working with Tam nearly every day and using her lesson plans as a guide?—”

“As a guide . Well…” She paused. “I just worry that when someone is stepping into a role temporarily, there can be a desire to sort of… shake things up a bit.” She did a quick, demonstrative shimmy. “To pal around with the kids, doing yoga and breathing exercises when they should be training, and to be a light-hearted, popular teacher who gives extra assignments that give the kids big dreams?—”

I scowled. “It wasn’t extr?—”

“I don’t mean that as a criticism, Jasper! I know you have the very best intentions, and you’re trying hard. But… you’re not really a teacher or a coach, are you? You’re stepping up because there’s no one else, and that’s so, so lovely of you.” She wrinkled her nose prettily. “I just wanted to make sure you understood the bigger picture. The kids—especially Zach—can’t afford distractions.”

“Distractions… like the opportunity to reimagine their assignments and actually learn something?” I said slowly, still reeling from the not a real teacher comment.

I mean, I knew I wasn’t an experienced teacher. Obviously. Like everything else in this season of life, I was faking it until I made it. But also… wasn’t a teacher someone who taught things? Someone who helped the kids understand and engage with a topic? Someone who cared and showed up?

“ Yes ,” she said with a relieved exhale. “Exactly. And while we’re on the subject of distractions, the main thing I wanted to say to you and Watt was…” She bit her lip again.

“Gosh, at this point, why hold back?” I said with heavy irony.

Unfortunately, certain people were irony deficient.

“You’re so right,” she giggled, clasping my hands tighter. “We’ve always been friends, haven’t we? So I say this as a friend… Jasper, have you considered the toll your constant bickering must be taking on poor, sweet Watt?”

“Our bickering,” I repeated. “Poor, sweet Watt?” I looked from her to the smirky, grouchy, teasing man responsible for the torture devices I’d strapped to my feet. “ That Watt?”

“Yes. I’m sure the kids have noticed you glaring and name-calling?—”

“I don’t name-call!” I winced, remembering my coward comment from a minute ago. “Much.”

“I’m sure it’s not entirely your fault,” she said, in a voice that made it clear she wasn’t sure of any such thing. “ But Watt has so much on his plate, between running the orchard, and raising his son, and his commitment to participate in the Pilgrim Prance 5K with me the day after Thanksgiving.” She ticked the items off on her fingers.

Participate in the… what?

Focus, Jasper.

I blinked. “Okay…”

“He’s calm and steady, but I know that deep down, he must find this whole situation with you upsetting…”

“Again, you’re talking about Watt Bartlett ?” I said with a half laugh. “That guy?” I pointed across the ice.

Watt caught me pointing and frowned.

Kayla laughed uncertainly. “Oh, I know you’re rivals from way back, but I promise you, everyone who really knows him understands how much he loathes confrontation of any sort. He’s a peaceful, gentle soul.”

I was stunned speechless… which was probably a good thing since I wouldn’t have said anything good.

Fortunately, I was saved from having to respond at all because, at that moment, Delaney came jogging down from somewhere in the stands, his black glasses askew. “Jasper!” He sounded a little breathless, like he’d been hurrying. “Hey. Great practice.”

“Hey.” I forced a smile. “Did Tam bribe you to come so you could give her a full, in-depth investigative report?”

“Bribe,” he scoffed. “As though I need a bribe to help my pregnant sister. You wound me, you really do. And that’s exactly what I told Tam.” After a beat, he added, “A fter I ate the leftover cupcakes she offered me.”

I laughed out loud.

“Hey, I’m no fool.” He grinned hugely. “You put chocolate chunks in the mix last time, and I’m only human?— ”

“Um, pardon me,” Kayla interrupted, looking wide-eyed at Delaney. “Did you say you’re Tamsen’s brother?”

He looked her up and down. “I am,” he confirmed. “And you are…?”

“Kayla! Kayla Milley.” She turned up the brightness of her smile from stun to kill. “My son is one of the starting centers for the Marmots, and… oh my gosh, we’re huge fans of yours, Mr. Monroe.”

“Are you?” He raised one eyebrow. “Did you like my ProPublica piece on climate refugees? Or the one VICE picked up on housing inequality?”

She frowned. “Uh… no. I meant… I meant for the Bruins?”

Delaney nodded sagely. “Ah. My lesser-known work.”

Smothering a snicker, I explained, “Kayla, this is Delaney Monroe. He doesn’t play hockey, his brothers do.”

“I swear, I’m doomed to have that as my epitaph,” he muttered.

I laughed again.

Watt came sailing over at that moment and caught himself on the railing beside me. His eyes darted between the three of us before focusing on me. “Jasper. Scrimmage time, remember?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Kayla was just, ah…” I cracked my neck from side to side. “Giving me some feedback.”

“All good, I hope,” Delaney said lightly. “I know Tam’s been very impressed with how quickly Jasper’s picked up the game and how dedicated he is. In fact, I’m hoping to buy him a drink at the Hive after practice to celebrate his incredible progress.”

I shot him a look that said I knew a lie when I heard one, and he smirked.

Watt cleared his throat .

“Oh, jeez, sorry again.” I gestured between the two men. “Watt, do you know Tam’s brother Delaney?”

“No.” Watt gave him a brusque up-nod. “Watt Bartlett. Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Delaney said flatly.

They eyed each other for a beat.

“Well, I’m sure you boys need to get back to it,” Kayla said. “A scrimmage is a brilliant idea, Watt, honey. I can’t wait to see how much the team has improved.”

Watt immediately stiffened. “Right. Come on, Jasper. Ticktock.”

I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his ticktock , but Kayla caught my eye and pursed her lips.

“Sure,” I agreed easily. “Whatever you say, pal. Let’s get after it!”

Watt shot me a look, but I ignored him.

Delaney looked like he was fighting a smile of his own. “We’ll catch up later,” he promised, sending me a conspiratorial wink.

“Hold my elbow,” Watt muttered as I picked my way slowly across the ice, well aware that all the assembled parents and students were watching me. “I’ll skate you over to the box.”

“Pfft. No way. I’m not a child,” I shot back. “Everyone’s watching. I might not be capable of getting there smoothly, but I can at least show people I’m capable of getting there under my own power.”

Watt glanced over his shoulder at where we’d left Kayla and huffed out a breath. “Yeah, well, if you learned to skate, you wouldn’t have this problem.”

I shot him an incredulous look. “Wait, what? Learn to skate ? Is that what I need to do? Oh my heck, Watt, what a brilliant idea!” I whispered in my best Kayla voice. “Here I’ve been strapping these death-blades on my feet for funsies when all this time, all I had to do was…” I snapped my fingers. “… learn to skate .”

Watt’s jaw worked. “Do you want my help or not?”

The words definitely fucking not were on the tip of my tongue, but I felt the combined eyes of the whole stadium watching me step-step-step across the ice, and my chest went hot. Even at thirty-seven, it was zero percent fun to feel pitied.

Plus, while I was almost positive that Kayla was either gaslighting me or just fucking wrong about Watt, I felt a moment of uncharacteristic hesitation as I looked up at him.

Where he’d seemed teasingly annoyed earlier, now he seemed genuinely, truly cranky. Like maybe he thought I was wasting his time and making the whole coaching thing even harder on him.

I released a breath that sounded a little too much like a marmot hiss. “Fuck it. Fine,” I whispered. “Give me your arm.”

Watt seemed a bit surprised, but he didn’t say a word as I wrapped my hand around his thick biceps and let him glide me across the ice.

He was solid. Kayla was right about that much. Steady, too. I took a deep breath and let it out again, letting myself relax.

“Everything okay?” he asked in a low voice, much as he had earlier.

I ran a hand over my face. Super great . Not only was I a failed acting-wannabe, a washed-up model, and half-owner of a defunct modeling agency, but I was now also a shitty fake teacher and a distraction as a coach.

I managed a thin smile. “Been a long-ass week, that’s all. ”

“Mmm. The rigors of coaching, even at your profound skill level, are probably taking a toll.”

“Ha. Right.” My stomach rolled.

I knew Watt was just continuing our earlier joking. He didn’t realize that I was suddenly feeling raw and sensitive, or he’d never have used almost the exact words Kayla had when she’d been talking about me being mean to “ poor Watt .”

In fact, I should probably explain it to him. Get his perspective on things.

“So…” I licked my dry lips. We were nearly at the players’ box, so I blurted in a rush, “Did you want to grab a drink tonight? I wanted to talk about a couple things related to the team.”

Watt gave me an unreadable look. “Sure you’d have time for that? I’d hate to take you away from your other plans.”

I rolled my eyes. Did he mean my compulsive baking, sorting china figurines, and tutoring with Tam? “I think I can try to squeeze you into my jam-packed schedule, yes.”

“Lovely.” He looked back across the ice at where Kayla had been, and he looked troubled for a moment before his face closed off. “I can’t tonight. I have plans.”

“Okay.” I stepped over the threshold onto the rubber mat of the box. “Tomorrow, then?”

Watt opened his mouth, and for a beautiful second, it looked like he was going to say yes. But then he glanced Kayla’s way again.

“No,” he said in a low voice. “Look, I… I think it’s probably best that we keep things as they are, don’t you? We need to work together as co-coaches, and I don’t want either of us to get confused about what this is or isn’t, you know?”

Ouch .

It seemed Tam was wrong about Watt and Kayla because the man kept looking to her like she was his personal North Star… even though he’d been kissing me the other night.

And that part was… fine.

Obviously .

He didn’t owe me anything. The bet we’d made was about being friends. Just friends. With no more rule violations.

But now it felt like he truly didn’t even want that anymore, and that hurt.

“I didn’t think co-coaches going out for a drink was confusing,” I whispered hotly. “Especially when they used to be friends, and at least one of them is trying really hard to be friends again.”

“Jasper…” Watt hesitated again.

“But then, I guess I don’t know much about coaching, do I?” I folded my arms over my chest.

“Hey, Coach Bartlett?” Zach interrupted. “Did you want us to line up, or…?”

“Huh? Yeah. Shit. Get out there, guys.” Watt shook his head as if to clear it, blew his fucking whistle, and turned his attention to the team as each of them stepped out of the box. “Remember what we talked about a minute ago? Kip, you’re in goal, and you’re gonna play it cautious. Keep it covered, yeah?”

“You got it, Coach,” Kip called before skating off.

“Zach, let’s see some good communication out there. Remember, you’re part of a team.”

Zach nodded once.

“Good. And Derry?—”

“Yeah, I know,” Derry said dismissively as he stepped onto the ice .

I wondered what that was about since Derry was usually incredibly polite and good-natured.

Watt ground his teeth as he watched his son go.

“Do you think Derry is…?” I began cautiously.

“I think we need to focus on the game, Jasper,” Watt whispered in a tone that suggested I shut my mouth.

“I know, but…”

He gave me a surly look. “ I will handle Derry, okay? You… worry about your plans for the evening.”

I stared at him, stung. “What are you talking about? Jesus, Watt, I’m trying to be your friend?—”

“And I am trying to coach this team,” he hissed. “You know, the job both of us are supposed to be doing? Maybe focus a little more on that and a little less on… distractions, okay?”

Distractions like teasing him and arguing with him?

Distractions like our rivalry and our friendship?

My jaw dropped, and I blinked at him. “But… I…” I swallowed.

Well, shit .

It seemed Kayla had been right.

And wasn’t that a lowering thought?

I blew out a breath, and without another word, I turned my attention to the scrimmage, not wanting to distract Watt further.

Jasper, you are such a fucking idiot .

Deep down, I’d thought our friendship resurgence was inevitable, like seasons passing. That the same way autumn always follows summer, what Watt and I had as kids would come around again, the same as before, if I just hung on long enough.

I’d deluded myself into thinking I still knew Watt—that, despite all the surface changes, at his core, he was the same person he’d been at seventeen, with the same needs and wants, the same desire for connection with me—because then I could pretend I was the same person I used to be, too. Maybe I’d wanted to believe my coming back to Copper County now could be one giant, cosmic do-over—a chance to erase all my many failures and get it right—so that when I left this time, the rest of my life would fall into place also.

But I wasn’t a kid. There were no do-overs. And faking it until you make it could only take a guy so far. Eventually, you needed to face the reality that you couldn’t force things to happen simply because you thought they should.

While Watt blew his whistle and barked instructions at the team, I nodded and smiled and stayed quiet, not offering any dubious or distracting advice of my own.

Unfortunately, the twenty-minute scrimmage was still a shitshow, and the defeated expressions on the kids’ faces as they filed back into the players’ box, red-faced and sweaty, said they knew it.

“Zach, I thought we were working on your puck control and not trying to play hero,” Watt said wearily. “What was that out there?”

Zach’s handsome face hardened. “I was trying to make a play?—”

“By yourself?” Watt took a breath. “It’s a team here. Communicate with Derry, and maybe you’ll get somewhere. And Kip, you were supposed to tighten up your defense?—”

“Sorry, Coach.” Kip, the shortest and possibly youngest player on the team, hung his head like a kicked puppy.

“Don’t be sorry.” Watt looked around at the team. “That goes for all of you. Sorry doesn’t mean shit. You’ve gotta put in the effort and change the way you play. If you keep doing things the way you’ve been doing, you can expect the same outcomes you’ve been getting. You’ve got to take what you’re learning and put it into practice. You hear me?”

I definitely heard him.

The boys muttered, “Yes, Coach.”

I did, too.

After they left, Watt sank to the bench and rubbed both hands over his head. “Christ, that was rough.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

He glanced up at me, his hazel eyes tumultuous, and my chest squeezed. “About what you were saying earlier…”

I held up a hand. “I understand, Watt.” I sat down beside him and removed my skates, stretching my aching toes for a minute before grabbing the duffel with my real shoes from under the bench.

Watt blinked. “You… do? Really?”

“I hate that you sound so surprised, but I guess I don’t blame you. I told you I was determined, and at times, I can be a bit too determined. Not unlike a bulldozer.” I gave him a quick smile. “But cuter, obviously.”

His forehead creased. “I don’t know what?—”

“That was a joke,” I said quickly. “I, um…” I bit my lip nervously. “Look, I realize now that I might have jumped the gun a little the other night on the dock. You said we couldn’t force feelings to be something they weren’t, right? I did hear you, I promise. I just… didn’t listen.”

“What are you trying to say?” he demanded.

“I really do want to be your friend, Watt. I’m not giving up on that. But I know things aren’t that easy. We don’t really know each other anymore, do we?” I said sadly.

“I… I guess not like we used to,” he said cautiously.

I nodded. “So the bet and all that other stuff? Let’s just…” I waved a hand. “…call it off. According to Watt and Jasper’s Rules…” I paused. “Actually, I don’t think there is a rule for canceling a bet, is there? I don’t think either of us ever canceled one. Not after we created the rules. Ha. Well, let’s just… rewind to Sunday and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Pretend it didn’t happen,” he repeated. “That’s what you want?”

No. Jesus, obviously, it wasn’t. Even now, when I knew better times a billion, it was a struggle not to run my fingers through Watt’s dark hair, to hold his stubbled cheeks in both my hands, and kiss him so hard and so deeply the remaining parents milling around the bleachers would stop and stare—not with pity, this time, but with envy.

But that didn’t seem to be what Watt wanted, and my wants weren’t the only thing that mattered.

“I’m good with it if you are,” I said firmly.

Watt stared at me for a long moment, and I wished I knew what the hell he was thinking… or maybe I didn’t. At length, he opened his mouth and?—

“Jasper?” Delaney appeared in the stands beside us and glanced back and forth between me and Watt as if clocking the tension between us. “Spectating’s thirsty work, and I’m about ready for that congratulatory drink. You wanna…?” He tilted his chin over his shoulder toward the exit.

“Oh.” He’d been serious about that? That was unexpectedly sweet of him… and pretty damn appealing after the week I’d had. “Yeah. Yes. Totally. Just, um…” I looked at Watt, but he was staring down at his skates. “Give me a minute to finish up here?”

Delaney nodded, but Watt immediately stood and shook his head.

“No, it’s fine.” He gave us both a friendly smile. “You go have fun. We’re done here.”

“But—”

“Awesome.” Delaney gestured toward the exit like a game show host. “Shall we?”

Still, I hesitated, but Watt had removed his whistle and started packing his stuff, clearly done with our conversation.

I blew out a breath. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t until we’d reached the door that I realized what had been bothering me.

I knew what Watt’s real smile looked like. And I knew a fake smile when I saw one.