Page 55 of That Thing You Brew
But I knew better.
I sighed, wishing I could tell him everything. “Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t need a Harvard education to figure that one out.” Brendan tipped his chin at Jason and patted my shoulder. “Or any education,” he joked, turning to Brenna. “Ready for more dancing, Bren-nah? This harpist plays thedreamiestslow songs.” He stood and gave Brenna an exaggerated wink. A smile played at her lips as she took his hand. I caught her gaze, wondering if she’d told Brendan anything about us, and she quickly looked away, tugging him toward the dance floor before he could say another word.
I sighed and settled into my seat. The other couples at the table all headed for the dance floor, leaving Bryce and I to wallow in our singledom.
“You should pursue her, man,” he said. “This feeling, watching all the happy couples—it stinks like a hockey bag when your washer’s broke.”
“But … it’s the middle of the season. Past the middle.”
“Dude, we’re eight points ahead of everyone else in the West. We’d have to totally fall apart to not make the cut. Don’t risk yourself falling apart from pining or loneliness for our sake. You’re not the only guy on the team, you know. Coach could pull you and we’d be fine. At away games, anyway.”
“Thanks a lot,” I grumbled. I still had terrible stats at away games. I hoped that would change once Penny and I were married. I wondered if I could convince her to fly out for some of them. Especially during the playoffs. If we stayed in first place, we’d have home ice advantage in the playoffs, so we technically could lose all our games on the roadifwe won all the home games.
But who wanted to take that risk?
“Just giving it to ya straight,” Bryce said.
“I know. Hey, you don’t have to sit here with me and be miserable. That redhead a few tables over has been giving you the eye.”
He shrugged. “Maybe later.”
“Okay then.” I swiped my phone to record and closed my eyes as Penny’s melody changed to a familiar animated movie ballad. I’d watchedTangledwith my sisters at least a handful of times and knew all the words to “I See the Light.” I sang them in my head as she played, feeling every lyric.
Penny had shifted my world, lifted the fog I’d been living in, and warmed me up to what my life could be like with a significant other that fit with me, how and who I was. I’d been blind, and she’d opened my eyes to the light that waslove.
One question remained. Didsheseethatlight, as I did? Was it crystal clear to her that we were meant to be together?
A collective “aaawww,” followed by a shriek from the direction of the stage, snapped me out of my thoughts. The music stopped, and I jumped to my feet to make sure Penny was okay.
The diaper-clad Abby Cabunny was center stage, hopping this way and that and obviously terrified. Penny fell to her knees, crawling slowly toward the bunny while onlookers did nothing to help.
I raced out of my chair toward the stage. How had this happened? I’d closed the basket and—I groaned. Had I latched it?
I think I knew the answer to that question.
The scene unfolded slowly. The couples on the dance floor gasped as the bunny hopped off the stage. Penny’s look of horror spread across her features, the same reaction as that day Adri Delicata shoved a microphone in her face.
Except that day was aboutmycareer. This bunny on the loose was messing upherperformance and could have serious ramifications. People talk, especially in wealthy circles, and I could imagine the last thing she wanted to be remembered for was being the harpist whose performance was ended by a bunny.
A tiny boy in a tux ran out onto the stage. “That’s my bunny! Abby! Abby Cabunny, come baaaaack!” He started to cry.
Where’d he come from? And where was Whotheheckdoneitdini or whatever his name was?
Penny looked between the boy and the bunny’s jumping-off spot. “I’ll get the bunny!” I shouted. She nodded and held her arms out toward the boy. He ran into her arms as the couples began to disperse, forming a wide circle around the bunny.
A man wearing a modern top hat and cape over his historical costume shouted above me on the stage—was this the missing magician?—berating Penny for letting the bunny escape. She didn’t say a word, just rocked the crying boy in her arms.
My Musketeer brothers appeared in the circle, evenly spaced, and I signaled to them to tiptoe toward the bunny, slowly. We closed in, and I lifted my tunic away from my body, ready to use it as a blanket to capture her.
The poor thing was quivering so violently I was worried she’d go into cardiac arrest. “C’mon, little Abby.” I held my hand out. Her nose twitched, her eyes darted, and she leaped.
I caught her in my tunic and pulled it snug around her. Bryce whooped, and the crowd applauded. I glanced up at the stage, where security was pulling the irate magician offstage. The little boy clung to Penny, tangled himself in her hair?—
Tangled.
I caught her gaze and twisted my face into my very best attempt at a smolder.
