Page 11 of Dream Chaser
All four of our heads turn and just look at her.
“What?”
“You know what,” Riley snorts.
“I’m sorry to burst y’all’s bubble, but one man will not give me all the ‘love’ I’m gonna need for a lifetime.”
Again, we’re all laughing.
Riley points at her belly with both hands. “Might have thought that myself at one time in my life.” She nods to Syd and Lo. “And those two walk in here like they’ve been on a twelve-hour trail ride so?—”
“Oh my God.” Sydney covers her mouth.
I steer us back in the proper direction. “The meet-and-greet.”
“Wait. That’shere, right?” Riley asks.
Lo deadpans, “Yes. Because someone”—she points to herself—“agreed to host the Knights fan event here. At our Brewery. With forty-seven hours of warning.”
I laugh. “Just because you’re all coupled up and in a love bubble doesn’t mean you have to pretend like you’re not excited to see what the boneheads like Skinner will pull.”
“This is true.” Riley smirks.
“He came into the merch closet asking for the tightest shirt in the tri-state area. The man’s gonna split a seam just shaking hands.”
Mags laughs. “He’s gonna look like a protein shake with arms.”
Rubbing her temples, Lo sighs. “We need everyone here. No excuses. It’s all hands on deck. This place is going to be crawling with fans, sponsors, and TikTok influencers trying to thirst-trap the players.”
Mags wags her brows.“Honestly? They won’t have to try too hard. I made eye contact with him once and needed to lie down.”
“Lily always says he’s the funniest.” Sydney smiles at her screen one last time before putting it in her bag and sliding off her stool.
“What time are they getting here?” I ask as I grab my bag from behind the bar.
“Doors open at two. Players start showing up around three. Skinner’s rolling in last, because he has to come straight from the walkthrough,” Lo says, grabbing her keys.
Maggie takes Riley’s hands and makes a big show of helping pull her from her stool. “Glistening. Pro players. Shirt three sizes too small. Champions.”
“Pregnant. Madly in love.” She grins. “Not dead. Iwillbe looking.”
“Sotomorrow’s tight shirts, and then packing panic, and Saturday the fab five are road tripping.” Syd smiles.
Mags looks at me and whispers, “The last road trip with just us.”
“We still have Lexington when she is on break and summers,” I remind her.
“God, I miss her.” Mags sighs and looks up at the sky. “You think the ’rents would be pissed if I skipped school tomorrow?”
“You’re missing Monday, so I’d guess yeah.” Riley side-hugs her.
“Such bullshit,” she mumbles.
I kill the engine and sit for a second, letting the silence settle in. No chatter, no clinking glasses, no planning to be done or Skinner-shirt commentary. Just the steady pulse of crickets and the rustle of trees swaying like they’ve got nowhere to be.
The porch light’s on, of course. It always is at night. Solar lights, of course. Mom says you should never come home to darkness.
I slip out of the Jeep, gravel and icy snow crunching under my boots, and pad up the porch steps. The screen door squeaks just enough to sound lived-in when I open it and slide in as not to disturb Wile, the dog I got when I was fifteen.
