Page 10 of Offside and Off-Limits
“You can't hide behind a computer screen all your life, chatting with some guy you’ve never met, you know.”
I lift my coffee and take a sip. “Sure, I can.”
Bailey shakes her head at me and opens her mouth to reply when Ashlyn Thompkins appears beside our table, looking gorgeous in a pair of jeans and a pink shirt, her jacket draped across her arm.
“Hey, girls. How are my favorite childhood neighbors?” she says with a smile, her light brown hair in a messy bun, her gorgeous green eyes shining.
“You’re back in town, Ashlyn?” Bailey asks, bouncing out of her seat and giving her a quick hug.
“Just for a while,” she replies.
“Ashlyn’s staying with her parents next door,” I tell Bailey.
“Just like old times, then,” Bailey replies. “Have you two been playing in the treehouse much?”
“Of course we have. We’ve had at least three tea parties there this week, right, Clara?” Ashlyn says, and I laugh.
“We sure knew how to live back then,” I say.
“That might be true, but I tell you something: this town does not change one little bit,” Ashlyn says, looking around the store.
“Sure, it does. We got a new teacher at the elementary school a few years back, and we got a new stop sign at the top of MainStreet. And don’t forget these key lime cupcakes Neesha’s making,” I say, holding it up. “They’re delicious, by the way.”
Ashlyn laughs. “Maple Falls is rivaling LA for dynamism and excitement, I see.”
“Would you like to join us?” I offer.
“Another time. I’m on a mission right now. Just popped in for coffee,” she replies. “See you both soon.” She flashes us her smile and saunters away.
“I haven’t seen her in years,” Bailey says. “You two were close back in the day.”
“We were. It’s nice to have her back.” I take a bite of my cupcake and let out a sigh at the sweet lime-iness of it. “Oh, this is so good. We’ll have to tell Neesha.”
“Hey, who’s that guy talking to Benny?” Bailey asks.
“What guy?” I ask around my mouthful, and I snap my attention across the store to see Benny talking with a big guy who’s leaning down, listening to whatever it is Benny is telling him.
Immediately, with my mom-spidey senses on high alert, I leap out of my seat and scramble over to the comic section.
“…but why doesn’t he fight back?” Benny is asking the man, who I notice is young enough to be about my age, give or take, and is looking intently at my son as though he’s actually deeply involved in the conversation, not just humoring him.
“Because his powers get captured by Xerces, who’s keeping them in an iron box held deep within the mountain,” the man replies, as though that’s a perfectly normal sentence to come out of a fully grown man’s mouth.
I clear my throat as I slide my hands protectively over Benny’s shoulders.
“Oh, hi, Mommy,” Benny says, glancing at me momentarily before he returns his attention to his comic book—and the man.
“What are you guys talking about?” I ask lightly, narrowing my eyes at the man, my subtext beingwho are you and why the heck are you talking with my son?
The man shifts his attention from Benny to me, and as he does, he rises to his full height, all six feet whatever. He’s tall, way taller than me, and, I admit begrudgingly, he’s handsome. With his sandy blond hair kinda scruffy and a touch too long in that effortless, I-woke-up-handsome kind of way, his strong jawline is covered in a cropped beard with a few specks of salt and pepper that somehow works on him. My guess is he’s mid-thirties, maybe older, and he’s got the kind of face that makes your stomach do a slow flip.
In fact, he looks a little like a blond Jacob Elordi, as well as…familiar.
Yeah, definitely familiar.
“You must be Benny’s mom,” he says, his voice deep and sonorous, his gray eyes pinning me in place.
I tighten my hold on Benny’s shoulders, lifting my chin in a vain attempt to appear taller than my five feet three inches against this…this…handsomegiant. A handsome giant who thinks it’s okay to talk with young boys they don’t know in bookstores.
