Page 31 of Pay the Piper

There’s nothing even slightly romantic between Nikki and I, but as we sit in the dark sharing more lighthearted stories from our youth, I realize there is something. A true friend. Maybe it’s the magic of the lake but the relationship blossoming tonight isn’t borne of false seduction, it’s real.

His truth from earlier runs through my mind.

“...I just don’t know if I’ll have it in me to stop him before he destroys everything else I hold dear.”

Would I do the right thing? Will I do the right thing? The only two people I loved before moving here were my parents, but with every friend I make in Thunder Bay, that number grows. I hold Ellie dear, and now Nikki. And then there’s Misha, who could be in a category of his own.

If there was a way to save my parents from Conor’s wrath, should I betray him? Maybe if I asked the Santoris for help…

Will I have it in me to do the right thing?

Chapter 14

“I think you’re forgetting just how hard I had to work for Mila’s love, man.” Thatcher grunts and re-racks his dumbbell, puppy-dog eyes silently pleading for me to skip the stair machine. As if.

“I’m not forgetting. Although, if you’ll recall, I was rather busy around the time that you were wooing her. My days weren’t just me waiting in the wings to see if you guys had kissed yet or not.”

He might be a whiny baby when it comes to the stair machine and an absolute liability anywhere near an open flame, but Thatcher is one of the most perceptive people I’ve ever met. His life before he met Mila lacked real, meaningful affection, even from his parents growing up. It forced him to be hyperaware of the intentions of anyone who tried to get close, from hockey groupies to investors after his trust fund. When he narrows his eyes at me, I reach to increase the speed on his machine, but it’s too late. He has me pegged.

“You totally kissed her! Your Fiona.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, and of all the guys, Thatcher knows me best. I might as well see if his finely honed emotional intelligence can help me dissect exactly what happened when Abby and I went out on my bike. From my perspective, it was life changing, the kind of moment that will certainly flash before my eyes on my deathbed. For her…something wasn’t right.

“I did,” I sigh.

“I’m guessing by that loaded, forlorn sigh that it didn’t go well. Was there not the spark you were expecting? Your second kiss will be better for sure. And if not, maybe she’s not the one—”

“She’s the one,” I growl.

He laughs, rubbing his hands together like a villain whose evil plot is finally coming together.

“That was just a test, man. Of course she’s the one. You’ve lost all your normal levelheaded Misha-sensei-ness. It’s as clear as day that Cupid shot you with the same ‘be mine forever’ arrow that he hit Teddy and me with.”

“Hmmph.”

“So what happened?”

What did happen? I wish I knew. One minute, the best kiss of my life. The next, Abby was scrambling like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I wanted to pry, force her to tell me what was wrong so I could fix it. But she stayed silent on the ride back, still holding me tightly but not with the same passion as before.

“The kiss itself went well. Beyond well. I mean—”

“As if every tiny piece of who you are rewired with the new sole purpose of providing her with every single thing she needs or wants for the rest of her life?”

I guess Thatch really does get it.

“Yep. That just about covers it.”

“Good. So then what happened? Do you think she didn’t like the kiss? We’d have to get the okay from Mila, but she’d probably let us practice. She might make us video call her so she could watch—”

“She loved the kiss, and I’m so damn close to calling your bluff and proving that my technique isn’t the problem—”

He laughs and hops off the stairs, flipping the machine off as he heads for the sauna. The little shit knows that I’m waiting for his analysis, so I follow, but if he thinks I’ll let him skimp on stair time, he’s got another thing coming.

Groaning as we settle into the heat, we enjoy the silence for a moment before Thatcher continues his assessment with a more serious tone.

“You don’t know that much about her, right?”

“I know enough to know she’s the one,” I say defensively.