Page 20 of Better Not Pout
“Now, back to the rundown,” I say while Rosalie sinks down beside me, pulling her legs up into a crisscross as she turns on the cushions to face me. It surprises me how comfortable she seems to be in my house, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like having her here.
Usually, it’s just me and Frankie. It’s quiet, peaceful, and that’s how I’ve always preferred it, but it’s nice to have someone else here filling this big, empty house for a change.
“Let’s see. I never went to college. I’ve always worked at Sweet Sullivan’s with my grandparents since… I dunno, I was a kid. Officially though, since I was in high school. They tried to get me to leave Mistletoe Falls, to go explore the world and ‘livelife,’ as they like to say, but honestly, I’ve always felt perfectly happy here. The candy store is my happy place and exactly where I want to be. I didn’t feel the need to do anything outside of it because I know in my heart that it’s my future.”
I nod, listening intently as she tells me about herself, soaking in every ounce that she gives me. You know, just in case anyone in my family asks.
At least that’s what I’m going with.
“Um… I’m really a homebody type of person. I’d rather be home, cuddled up in a fluffy blanket with Penny, than somewhere with a ton of people, where I can’t wear my pajamas. I hate reality television with a passion. My favorite hobby is baking.”
That last part is unsurprising. She works in a candy store, after all.
She pins me with a glare when I chuckle and drag a hand over my mouth to quiet the sound. “What?”
“I dunno, that fits you. Maybe not the sweet part…”
Reaching out, she playfully shoves my chest with an eye roll. “That’s my dream. One day, at least. To expand Sweet Sullivan’s into a bakery, too, so it’s the whole package. Everything sweet you can imagine, all in one place. It would have cakes, pies, and macarons. But cookies are my specialty. That’s what I’d focus on the most.”
“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out, then.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but maybe one day, I will. I haven’t even told my grandparents about that yet because I’m scared they’ll hate the idea, but one day, I’ll get enough courage. Anyway, what about you? What did you do before you started renovating the bar?” She sits back against the arm of the couch, pressing her back into it and drawing her knees up to her chest. She’s wearing the cutest fucking ruffle socks that stop right above her ankle, pink and dainty. Like her.
What the fuck is wrong with me? They’re goddamn socks, Wells. For fuck’s sake.
I reach up and drag my palm along the back of my neck. I hate talking about the injury… about my retirement in general. Mostly because the wound still feels fresh, and each time I relive it, it’s as if it opens right back up.
For that reason, I hesitate.
“What, are you secretly in the mafia or something?” Rosalie giggles, pressing her neatly manicured fingers against her mouth.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Nah. Not a mail thief and not in the mafia. You watch way too much TV.”
Her eyes twinkle with amusement.
“I played professional hockey for eight seasons, but I retired early because of a shoulder injury,” I force out, pushing down the tightness that always makes an appearance deep in my chest when I tell the story.
Her eyes trail down to my shoulders, her throat bobbing. “Is it okay now?”
I shrug. “Most days. It still bothers me when I push myself too far when I’m working, or sometimes it aches when it rains. I had surgery, and they were able to repair a lot of the damage. Most of it was from old injuries that never properly healed, so when the last happened, that was it. My career was done. All those years, just… gone.”
“I’m sorry, Wells,” she whispers softly. “I know that must have been incredibly difficult for you.”
That’s putting it mildly. But the last thing I want to do is talk about how difficult the last year and a half of my life has been.
It’s too damn heavy.
“Yeah, it was… rough. But I learned that sometimes life deals you a hand that you’ll never be ready for, and I guess it all worked out because injuring my shoulder is the reason that Iended up here in Mistletoe Falls and opening Well + Good. My family has always had the cabin in Cedar Ridge, so it made sense to come here when I was ready to leave Vancouver and try to get on with my future. I figured this was a good place to start. Collin was already here. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We met when we first started to come to Cedar Ridge, and now I have the bar. My house. I’ve just been trying to figure out who I am without hockey.”
She nods along as if she completely understands what I’m saying, her gaze lingering on mine.
“Are you close with your family?”
“I am, yeah. They’re great, and I think you’ll find being around them is easy, even if they are a bit… much. I don’t think I would’ve made it through the injury and all of that without them. Truly.” There’s a heavy pause between us, lingering in the air before I say, “Anyway.” I clear the lump that’s settled heavily in the base of my throat. “So now I’ll work on getting the bar finished up, and then I’ll spend my days there.” I’m desperate at this point to move away from the topic, so I plaster on a smirk. “I’m also a homebody. Hate any kind of TV at all, really, and I can’t bake for shit. But I can grill an incredible steak, and for hobbies… I like the extracurricular,funkind.”
When I shoot her a wink, I’m transfixed watching how quickly her cheeks turn pink and a swallow makes its way down the delicate column of her throat.
Her lips part as her mouth falls open, and after a few beats of staring at me, she finally snaps it shut only to open it again and say, “Speaking of, we should probably talk about how we want the… physical aspect of this to go?”
