Page 81 of The One Night Dash
“And finally,” Tully says, “the all-importantcostume contest.” She scans the crowd, grinning. “This year’s winner, by unanimous vote, is none other thanTeam Gobble Till We Wobble!”
Mom lets out a cheer that could raise the dead. Rick pumps a fist in the air like they just won the cup. Ethan and Caleb pretend to sulk, but they’re laughing too hard in their ridiculous tulle and cornucopia hats.
I look down at myself—sweaty tutu, feathers askew, cornucopia tilting sideways—and laugh until my stomach hurts.
TWENTY
DASH
“Everyone over here!”Maryanne’s voice cuts through the crowd, strong as a whistle blast. “Picture time! You, too, Dash.”
I shake my head, laughing as Noelle takes my hand and pulls me toward the stage. Here’s the thing, there’s no universe where I should be having fun here. Not at Harbor Point, not in the town of Harrington. Not in the same place my father’s family cut him off, where they pretended we didn’t exist because he chose my mom. After he died, it got even uglier, until we were all but run out. This place should feel like exile.
But then there’s her. Noelle Pembrooke in a tutu, ruffling more than just my feathers. She makes me feel like I could be happy anywhere. And damn me, I know exactly what’s happening. I’m falling. Not the easy, lust-driven kind. The way my parents did when nothing else mattered but being together.
The camera clicks, everyone’s smiling, and the crowd is starting to gather around us.
Noelle looks up at me. “You have fans.”
“Only want one.” I wink.
“Will you be joining us for brunch?” Noelle’s mom asks.
“Dash has to head back to Brooklyn.” Then her eyes widen like she’s just realized something. “Oh no, did you miss practice?”
I shake my head. “Day off. Whole team. Coach rarely gifts those. I’d love to join you all.”
“Let’s roll. I’m starving,” Ethan says.
I step forward, and Noelle grabs my hand. “You’re really going to leave your fan club?—”
“I’d leave hockey to be with you,” falls out of my mouth and shocks me just as much as it shocks her. “Those words should taste like poison, Pembrooke, but yeah, they taste a lot like the sweetest truth.”
Her face catches fire, so yeah, she gets what I’m implying.
“And I, uh … like you enough and respect you as an athlete that I would not ever let you. Take some pictures with them. It’s okay. I’ll hang back and ride with you.”
“Oh, hell nah,” Caleb whispers while narrowing his eyes at her. “You have to make the French toast, the kind with powdered sugar and cinnamon. Mom and Dad suck at it.”
“Mouth, kid,” Rick scolds quietly.
Something about his voice has me turning and looking at him for the first time without the sun in my eyes.
I hold my hand out. “Hey Rick, I’m Dash.” The way he looks at me tells me I should know this man.
He shakes my hand. “Nice to have you here with us today.”
Not nice to meet you, so yeah, I know this guy … but how?
“Any chance you wanna stick around for a few minutes with me and let these four head back so I don’t get lost?”
Noelle cups her hand over her eyes, blocking the sun, and looks at me as if to say, “Huh?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Rick says.
“I can stay,” Noelle offers.
“No, no, you can’t.” Caleb pulls her away, and I can’t help but laugh.
