Chapter 25: Wild About You: Chapter 25

It’s true, I dreaded shopping when I couldn’t afford things and I still don’t enjoy buying myself things—my car excluded, but buying shit for Everly and Piper, yeah, that’s fun.

And the bonus with Piper is when she tries on a dress that shows off her cleavage and long legs, I don’t want to maim anyone that looks her way like I did with Ev. Well, okay, I do but it’s different.

“I think this is the most beautiful dress I have ever worn,” she says as she comes out of the dressing room. Her face is all lit up and I haven’t seen her smile so big in years.

My throat is tight as I stand from the chair I’ve been sitting in while I wait. “Damn, Piper.”

“Think Principal Best will have a problem with me teaching in this?” She pops a hip and sticks out her boobs.

“I don’t think a lot of learning is happening with you in that dress.” I stare at her, too entranced to do anything else. “I know somewhere you could wear it though. I have a fundraiser I have to go to in a few weeks for the Wildcat Foundation. Food, drinks, and a bunch of hockey players. Come with me? I’m sure Scarlett will be there.”

She drapes her arms around my neck. “Oh, well, if Scarlett’s going to be there, then yes, I’m definitely in.”

I kiss her and push her backward into the dressing room. She squeaks and giggles as I pull the curtain closed behind us.

Every time I kiss her, it feels so unreal. I frame her face with my hands and urge her to open wider so I can sweep my tongue inside of her mouth.

The silky material of the dress pressed against me is sexy as fuck. I run my hands down around her waist and up her back to the zipper. The only thing sexier than Piper in this dress? Taking her out of it.

Nothing is more satisfying in this moment than the purr of the metal coming apart.

“How’s it coming in there?” the sales associate’s chirpy, helpful voice interrupts as I’m sliding one strap off her shoulder.

Piper straightens, but I’m far more reluctant to stop.

“Tyler,” she hisses. It’d be more convincing if her tongue wasn’t still in my mouth.

I step back and pull the curtain open. The woman on the other side has one dark brow arched up and a smug smile.

“The zipper was stuck,” Piper says, cheeks red. She pulls the curtain back to shield herself while she changes.

“We’ll take the dress.” I retake my seat and anxiously wait for the next outfit.

We go to several more stores. I lose track, but the shopping bags looped over both arms are starting to add up.

“No more,” Piper insists. “This is too much.”

“We haven’t even looked at shoes yet.”

She shakes her head and peers down at the ones on her feet. “These aren’t so bad.”

“Baby, you look great. You’d look great in anything, but you shouldn’t need to color your shoes every morning.”

“I do love a good art project.”

I tip my head toward the shoe store. “One pair.”

Man, it makes me happy to buy her shit. Is that wrong? I don’t care.

Piper and I walk hand in hand as she looks at shoes. Every pair she gives a second glance, I nod to the sales guy to get her size.

When she finally sits down to try them all on, she has a stack of boxes nearly as tall as her.

“How am I going to pick just one?” she asks as she slips on a pair of tall, strappy-looking heels in bright red. Standing, she does a short walk in them, staring in the mirror at her feet. “These are gorgeous, but not very practical for school sadly.”

She gives them one last longing look, and then takes them off and places them back in the reject pile.

The guy tries to take them back and I give him a subtle head shake. So, I lied. There’s no way she’s walking out of here with just one pair of shoes. My girl needs at least as many pairs of shoes as me, right? And I have a lot of sneakers.

The funny thing about having money—people give you free stuff because they know you have the cash to buy more of it if you like it. I don’t have any big sponsors or anything like that, but stuff randomly shows up. A pair of shoes here and a few protein bars there.

Piper finally narrows it down to black shoes that look nearly identical to the ones on her feet.

I hold out my hand and she gives me the box. “This is it. We’re done.”

“This is the last store,” I say with a wink. She doesn’t notice the stack I’ve already had put at the counter until the guy starts ringing them up.

“Wait. No,” she says. “Just the black pair.”

The guy stops and looks from Piper to me.

“All of them.”

“Tyler,” she whisper-screeches.

“Yes, Pipes?”

“You don’t need to do this.”

“I know.” I hand over my card and we get four more bags to add to our collection.

Outside, Piper watches as I load her bags into the trunk. Happy laughter turns into a worried, nervous-sounding giggle.

“Oh my gosh, Tyler. Are they even going to fit?”

“Maybe we should have stopped at three pairs of shoes, eh?” I close the trunk and put the remaining bags in the small space behind our seats.

A guilty expression washes over her face and I stop and go to her.

“I was kidding, Pipes. This was fun.”

“I can’t pay you back. At least not for a long time. Do you know what the starting salary is for a teacher in this state?”

“No, I guess I don’t, but you don’t need to pay me back. It’s the least I owe you for taking such good care of Ev.”

She nods. “Thank you.”

“You love it? Teaching, I mean.” I know it was her dream, but sometimes dreams don’t work out the way we think.

“I do. It’s different than I expected, but the kids are great.”

Smiling, I wrap an arm around her waist as we walk toward the restaurant.

“I think it’s a really admirable profession. Way more important than getting paid to play hockey. I mean, who knows where Everly would be without you. And money isn’t everything.”

“Says the guy that has a lot of it now.” She laughs softly. “Everyone says that until they don’t have it. I’m sure I did too. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I need to be stupid rich.” She waves a hand back toward the car and smirks at me. “But worrying about how you’re going to pay for things all the time is stressful.”

“Calling those shoes stupid, baby?”

“The shoes, definitely not. Just the number of them you bought.”

I squeeze her side playfully and she laughs again. God, I love her laugh.

“I can’t explain it. I just feel like it’s what I was meant to do. I’m going to grad school next year. A master’s degree will help my starting salary, and who knows? There are lots of private schools and opportunities beyond what I’m doing now. Maybe I could keep tutoring on the side. Or I could start an after-school homework help company and pimp you and the guys out.”

“They’re really good, right?” I ask.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

I hold open the door for the restaurant. A hostess leads us to our seats. Once we’ve ordered and have our drinks, Piper places both elbows on the table and leans forward.

“What about you?” she asks. “What’s your next big dream?”

I take a sip of my water. “What do you mean?”

“All you ever talked about was becoming a pro hockey player. Now that you’ve made that happen, what else do you want to accomplish?”

“I think this is it,” I say.

“There isn’t anything else you want?”

“I guess I haven’t really made room for much else. Every day is survival right now. If I have a couple of bad games, I could be sent down like that.” I snap my fingers.

“Yeah, that’s brutal, but you won’t. You’re good. Really good. I always knew you would make it.” She ducks her head to sip from her straw and looks up at me through thick lashes. “I saw you play once after we broke up.”

“You did? When?”

“I came to Green Bay about a month after we broke up. I planned to talk to you after the game. I still hoped that you’d miss me so much you’d call me. I sent you a text before the game. The one about how you inspire me to keep pushing toward my own dreams.”

“The last one you sent.” I must have read it a million times. I don’t think she realized how much her words of encouragement meant.

She stares at me with disbelief like she’s still surprised that I remember this stuff. I don’t know when it’s going to sink in for her that I remember it all. She wasn’t some girl that I dated and broke up with, then forgot and moved on. I couldn’t cling to her, but I held on to everything else.

“Not calling you nearly killed me. It was a struggle every day. From the time I woke up until I fell asleep. It’s all I wanted, but I couldn’t help but worry that you were going to resent all the things you were missing out on. And maybe more than that, I wanted you to have it because I couldn’t. I don’t know. I’m not saying it’s right, but I can’t change it.” Not sure I would even if I could.

“I was so lost without you,” she says. “After my dad’s stroke I felt like I didn’t have anyone. Dad could barely talk in the beginning and Mom spent every second caring for him—as she should have. My friends from high school tried to be there in the beginning, but I was miserable to be around and they couldn’t really relate to the stuff happening at home. I missed you so much.”

My chest tightens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Old wounds threaten to derail this night, so I add, “I’d like to see Everly graduate high school and maybe go to college. Hockey and seeing that she gets an education—that’s about all I’m capable of dreaming of right now.” A hesitant smile tugs at my lips. “And you. I always dream about you.”

She finally smiles in a way that has me hoping the night isn’t ruined. “Have you talked to her about college yet?”

“No. I keep meaning to. I will.”

“Soon,” she adds. “She should apply to several. The sooner, the better.”

We spend the rest of dinner catching up but avoiding anything too heavy. Talking with her feels so easy, so good, but the underlying tension from earlier hasn’t totally dissipated.

I know I hurt her and I’m not sure if she’s ever going to truly be able to forgive me for it.

I think about the other things I dream about, things that are more like fleeting thoughts than actionable items. I am busy, and Everly and hockey are all I can focus on right now, but the truth is, I do want a family and to get married someday. I just know that the person I want all those things with is her, and I’m not sure she’s ready to hear all that.

When we get back to the house Ash is watching TV in the living room. Piper and I take a seat with him.

Ash looks over and grins at us. “Hey, lovebirds. Where have you been all night?”

“Dinner,” I answer, and nod toward the TV. “New season of The Bachelor?”

“Yeah. This poor guy is dealing with some crazy drama already on night one.”

“I’m pretty sure he knew what he was getting into,” Piper says.

I lean back and throw an arm around the back of the couch. Piper snuggles in next to me. It’s nice. We sit like that until the front door opens and Everly comes inside.

“Hey, how was the game?” I ask, giving her a once-over in her Park Academy shirt. I’ve never seen her with so much team spirit before.

“They won.” She takes in the scene in front of her. “I’m gonna go to bed. Night.”

“Wait,” I call before she can head up. “I need to talk to you.”

She looks nervous but eventually nods. “Okay.”

“I think I’ll head up, too. Night, all,” Piper says, then shoots me a look that I hope means she’ll be in my bed instead of her own tonight.

Everly takes a seat in the spot Piper just vacated. “What’s up?”

“I keep meaning to talk to you about college. Piper said you might be interested in attending this fall.”

“Oh.” Everly fidgets with her hands in her lap. “Maybe, I’m not sure.”

“College is a blast,” Ash says. “Why wouldn’t you want to go?”

“More school is a blast?” she asks him.

“A few hours a day of school, but all the rest of the time is one big party.”

I cut him a look. “Not helpful.”

“Sorry,” he tells me, but then looks at Everly and mouths, “Huge parties.”

“You should at least apply. That way you have options. Do you have a list? Are there ones you want to go visit?”

“I filled everything out online, but I need help from Mom with the financial aid stuff.”

“I’ll call Mom tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She starts to get up and pauses. “Was there something else?” she asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m proud of you.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy brother?”

“Did you do your homework tonight?” I ask.

Laughing, she stands. “That’s more like it.”