Page 82 of Facing the Line

“Okay.” I give a helmet of nachos to Hunter and Natalie. “You’re not going to want to miss this. You get the one with onions, though.”

“I refuse to let those disgusting vegetables touch my food.” Hadley smiles at me and pops a chip in her mouth.

Natalie raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything as she takes a bite, moaning.

“You’re right, Joe.” Hunter claps me on the shoulder. “This is amazing.”

A Cubs game with my girl and my friends? Yeah, it is. I wish it never had to end.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

JONAS

But the perfect afternoon does end. The Cubs lose, although the game’s still fun. We invite Hunter and Natalie back to my parents’ house for a bonfire, but they decline. We’ll see them tomorrow for the Wolves’ Family Day.

After we take the train back home, Hadley pops inside to change, and my dad and I get the fire pit out of the garage and get a decent fire going. We circle up some lawn chairs and watch the flames dance.

My dad clears his throat. “You wanna tell me what’s going on between you and that girl, son?”

I take a deep breath and stare at him across the smoke rising into the night sky. I can’t lie to my dad. “I like her. A lot. But I don’t think we want the same things.”

He nods and settles in his chair. “I trust your judgment. But so you know, I think she’d be great for you.”

His words wrap around me like the flames twining around the wood. Though I know Hadley doesn’t want anything from me long-term, his approval still warms my chest.

Our silence is broken when my mom, Emma, and Hadley come outside. My mom carries a platter of s’more ingredients, and reminds my sister that, due to sneaking the candy during the prep, she can only have one. Emma pouts darkly but grabs a roasting stick and stabs two marshmallows anyway.

Hadley, wearing black joggers and what might be my gray Harrison hoodie, sits in the camp chair next to me and smiles.

“I had so much fun today at the game.” She directs her words to my dad. “Thanks so much, Mr. Kaminski. I really appreciate it. I’m loving the full Chicago experience.”

It’s true Hadley might be a little spoiled. She grew up in different circumstances than I did. And she’s probably been to a million hockey games and sat in suites or in the family section down by the ice. But she still thanks my dad. My hands itch to touch her.

My dad, not big on words, nods. “You’re welcome.”

My stomach growls as the smell of Emma’s singed marshmallow wafts over. I stand and grab Hadley’s hand, pulling her up. I wish I didn’t have to drop it. “You want to make a s’more with me?”

“Of course.” She brushes off her pants. “As long as you’ll teach me.”

My mouth drops open, and Emma calls out, “What? You don’t know how to make a s’more? Even a kid can do it!”

Hadley doesn’t take offense but gives a pretty shrug of her shoulders. “Nope. My mom was a model. There was no camping or bonfires in my life.”

“You’ve never lived!” My sister calls out. She doesn’t get subtlety. But Hadley just laughs at her antics.

“You’re right, Emma, I haven’t. But Jonas is teaching me how to cook. So it’s high time I learned how to make s’mores, too.”

“Hads, I think even you can master this.” I can’t resist teasing her, and when her fist snakes out to lightly punch my shoulder, I wish I could grab her fingers and kiss them. Instead, I hand her a roasting stick and the supplies. “Here. You skewer the marshmallow like so” —I demonstrate— “and then you toast it.”

She follows me to the far side of the fire pit, downwind from the smoke, and watches.

“You want to put the marshmallow by the coals, so it gets nice and golden brown.”

“Unless you like ‘em burnt!” Emma stands by the table full of s’mores ingredients, sticky marshmallow clinging to her chin. Her mouth is full, and she grins.

My mom shakes her head. “Okay, babe, I’m cutting you off. The sugar high will make you crazy!”

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