"Like I said, you'll have to ask them," Whitney said. Once again, she gave Fiona and Holly a warning look. After a beat or two, she said, "Let's lighten things up, shall we? Fiona said you like to paint and draw. Any chance you want to come and do a class with my kindergarten kids?"
"She teaches at the local school," Fiona supplied. "Holly too, but Holly teaches high school gym."
"I'd love to give a class," I said. "That sounds like fun." I liked kids and their enthusiasm for art. They were always so imaginative and creative, until they were told birds could only have two legs, and that pigs didn't really fly. I vividly remembered those days. I stubbornly refused to let them influence my creative eye. If I wanted pigs with wings, I'd make them, or draw them.
In fact, I had. I filled notebooks with flying pigs of all shapes and sizes, but never showed anyone. My rebellion was a quiet one. In class, I'd follow the teachers’ instructions. As it happens, learning to draw and paint realistically worked out for me in the long run. Those pieces of art were easier to sell.
"Great." Whitney smiled warmly. "Let me know when and I'll pencil it in."
"I'm not saying I don't like hairdressing, but that sounds like fun," Fiona said with a sigh.
"Told you to go into teaching," Whitney said. She gave the other woman a lopsided smile that suggested this was an old conversation, only brought up now as a joke.
"Told you being with kids all day everyday would drive me insane," Fiona retorted. "Once in a while is enough for me."
"Wait until Sarah gets to high school," Holly said. "I swear, most of the class spends the entire year waiting for pond hockey season. That's all they care about. Hockey, hockey, hockey." She bobbed her head to either side with each word, while rolling her eyes toward the ceiling.
"Is there another sport?" Fiona frowned at her, but the sides of her mouth were tugging upward as she fought back a smile.
Holly plucked the paper straw out of her drink and threw it at Fiona. "Of course there is."
Fiona's hand shot up to deflect the straw. It bounced off her palm and landed back on the table, leaving a trail of droplets behind it.
"No goal." She grinned.
We all laughed.
"There is another sport, baseball," Whitney said. "And to a lesser extent, field hockey." She glanced at me and asked, "What about you? What are you into? Wait, let me guess." She put up a finger in front of her. "Cage fighting."
I laughed. "Why cage fighting?"
"Why not cage fighting?" She spread her hands up to either side. "I mean, someone has to watch it, right?" She raised her hands and dropped them.
I thought we were about to have our own version of it a few minutes ago, without the cage, but decided not to remind herof that. She seemed invested in not talking about it. Who would have won a fight between those three anyway? I had a feeling Dash could hold his own against both Riley and Connor. Was it wrong that I was slightly disappointed not to find out?
"I'm not really much of a sports person like that," I said. "I was never really allowed to watch or participate, then… I got busy." I ended the sentence on an exhale.
All three of them looked at me like they knew I was going to say something else, but none of them was going to pry. Their response was another reminder of the difference between me and them. They grew up together, I'd known them for a handful of days.
Getting to know each other well enough to open up would take time. If it ever happened.
"You'll have to come and watch pond hockey when the lake freezes," Fiona said. "Practically everyone goes out to watch. And play. Sarah is in her second year with her little team. They take it seriously." She smiled indulgently, but I suspected she was just as passionate about it as anyone else.
"I'm sure she's adorable in her skates and padding," I said. Seeing her out there on the ice must be nerve racking, but I got the feeling Fiona couldn't have held her back if she tried. Sarah would have found a way.
"She is," Fiona agreed. "Looks like I need another drink." She held up her empty glass before standing and heading over for a replacement.
"Me too." I rose and followed, my heels clicking on the floor as I walked. Everyone else in the place was in jeans, making me feel somewhat self-conscious. I liked wearing skirts, but I didn't want to look like an outsider forever. The city girl who turns her nose up at anything and everything. Especially when I didn't turn my nose up at anyone.
Correction, I raised mychinwhen I passed the table Riley and Connor were sitting at. Both of them and the guys they were sitting with, followed me with their eyes all the way to the bar.
I ignored them. Whatever their problem was, I wasn't going to make it my problem. If they wanted to have chips on their shoulders as wide as the Rockies, so be it. They weren't alone in holding grudges. I held a few of my own. I might add them to the list. They were both attractive, but my clit wasn't in charge here. My brain was. It had to be.
The way she throbbed when I was around them, my clit would lead me to do things I'd definitely regret.
"Those are paid for," the woman behind the bar said, pushing our drinks toward us.
I turned slowly to glare at Connor, who raised his drink to me.
