11. Ziggy

Chapter eleven

Ziggy

L ow tide always intensified the briny scent of the ocean waves. As I strolled toward Whistleport's town square, the scent mingled with the sweet aroma of Mrs. Miller's freshly baked blueberry muffins. It was a warm summer day, and sweat had already pasted my T-shirt to my back.

I had a hard time sleeping the night before. Thoughts about Kade cycled through my head—the unexpected softness of his hands, his low, rumbling voice, and the sparkle in his eyes when we challenged each other.

An explosion of red, white, and blue greeted me as I turned onto Main Street. Encouraged by Rory, Kade and I had volunteered to help decorate for our annual 4th of July celebration. I saw piles of boxes overflowing with streamers and banners scattered around the square.

A swarm of my neighbors gathered, sipping coffee, munching on muffins, and sharing the latest news and gossip. In the middle of it all was Kade. He was having an animated conversation with old Mr. Granger, gesturing with his hands while he spoke.

Pausing along the sidewalk, I watched for a few minutes. I gazed at the curve of Kade's shoulders and observed how his strong, wiry chest stretched his T-shirt. Memories of our time at his apartment rushed back—the feel of his bare skin under my fingers and the little gasp he made when I kissed the side of his neck below his ear.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Not here, Ziggy. Not now.

"Knock, knock. Anyone in there?" It was Rory. He held a clipboard in his right hand. "It's good to see you. I thought maybe you'd decided to sit this one out."

"Nah, just running a little behind. Emma had a wardrobe malfunction, and then she insisted I give my opinion on her replacement outfit. What's the game plan here?"

Rory's eyes twinkled in a way that made me uneasy. "Since you asked, I've got you and Kade assigned to Main Street banners and bunting."

My mouth dropped open. "I don't think—"

"It will work out fine." The tone of his voice made it clear he wasn't about to entertain questions about his plans. "You two are getting on well enough working with the juniors. It would also be great for the town to see the two of you bury the hatchet and cooperate."

Before I could come up with a coherent protest, he'd already moved on to Dottie Perkins standing by the balloon arrangement station. I inhaled deeply and then walked over to Kade.

He looked up as his conversation with Mr. Granger ended. "Hey, Zig." I watched a little smile play at the corners of his mouth. "Are we ready to give your hometown a makeover?"

"Yeah, sure," I mumbled. "Let's get this done." We reached for one of the strings of lights simultaneously. When our hands brushed, I nearly stumbled.

Kade grabbed my elbow to steady me. "Whoa, man. Maybe you've had too much caffeine. We can take it slow."

Take it slow . The suggestion reminded me of our explorations on Kade's couch.

As we worked in silence, it was incredibly awkward. I listened to the rhythm of Kade's breathing and inhaled the scent of his sandalwood shampoo while hoping nobody noticed. I had to work hard to stop myself from staring at the little sliver of exposed skin that appeared every time he reached for something over his head.

"Oh, for the love of—" I'd been rummaging through a box when I heard Kade's exasperated voice. When I turned around, he'd hopelessly entangled himself in a mass of red, white, and blue ribbons. He looked like he'd lost a fight with a patriotic octopus. Laughter bubbled up inside me, and I couldn't hold it in.

Our eyes met, and he lost it, too. Fortunately, the absurd situation eased the tension, at least for a few minutes.

I stepped up close. "Here, let me help."

As I worked to untangle the ribbons, my hands touched Kade's body in multiple places. Neither of us tried to pull away, and the world around us faded. I spread a hand wide and began to reach—

"Yoo-hoo! Kade, darling!"

Dottie Perkins' shrill voice shattered the moment. I jerked back, and I nearly stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk. Kade grabbed my wrist, and I fell against his body, crumpling the last ribbon that stretched across his chest.

A group of Whistleport's most notorious gossips, led by Dottie, descended on us. We were soon fighting a whirlpool of heavy, floral perfume while serenaded by jangling bracelets. They were all there—Mabel from the post office, Gladys, who volunteered at the library, and Ruth, who recently retired from Gus's Grocery.

Dottie spoke for the entire group. "Well, aren't you young, handsome men a sight for sore eyes? And so good to see you mending your fences and working together."

I forced a smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Perkins and everyone."

"Pish posh, Ziggy." Dottie waved a hand. "How many times do I need to tell you to call me Dottie? Mrs. Perkins makes me sound like I'm three steps from the grave."

"You don't look a day over thirty-five, Dottie." Kade's compliment was a smooth move, full of charm. "Is that a new hairstyle? It's very becoming."

Dottie tilted her head slightly to the right and patted her hair. "You're a silver-tongued devil." She turned to her group. "This one is trouble, mark my words." She resumed the conversation with Kade. "And how are you adjusting to little Whistleport? Is everyone helping you feel welcome?"

"They've all been fantastic." He gripped my elbow briefly. "Especially Ziggy here. I've heard all of the local secrets from him."

I blinked furiously but remained quiet. I did my best to keep my expression neutral.

Kade intrigued Dottie, and she wasn't ready to let him go. "Well, isn't that nice? When I heard that UNH's star forward was spending the summer here, I said to Gladys—didn't I, Gladys? I said, 'We should watch this one. He's a story in the making.' And now, here you are, like two peas in a pod with our young Mr. Knickerbocker."

I waved a hand. "Oh, I wouldn't say—"

Dottie didn't let me finish. "It warms my heart to see you boys getting along. Battling in those hockey games is exciting but off the ice? That's silly. There are better ways to generate excitement."

"Absolutely, Dottie." Kade successfully wrapped her around his little finger. "Ziggy and I found out we have a lot in common."

I shot him a withering look, but he ignored me.

"Why, of course, you do!" She clapped her hands. "Two fine young men. You simply must stop by my place next week—the two of you together. I'll make my famous cherry cobbler. I'm sure you like cherry cobbler, don't you, Kade?"

"Who doesn't? I bet it's delicious, but—"

Dottie was on a roll and didn't let him stop her. "Marvelous. Next week, Wednesday at seven. And do try to wear something nice. Not that you fine young men don't always look handsome, but a little extra effort goes a very long way. Just ask my dear Harold—God rest his soul—he always said…"

She launched into a long, rambling story about her late husband and the importance of properly pressed shirts. When I glanced at Kade, he raised an eyebrow. It was a plea for help.

"Mrs. Per—I mean, Dottie." I interrupted her story. "I don't want to break up the story, but we've got a lot of work to do here, and Rory will be on our tails if we don't get it done."

"Of course, of course! Pardon me. Duty calls, but remember—Wednesday at seven."

She continued to talk as she herded her group away from us. "That Kade—he's a looker and a breath of fresh air. So polite and friendly, unlike so many of our young people with their noses stuck in their phones."

Once we were out of earshot, Kade turned to me. "That was quite an experience."

"That's Dottie, and she wasn't kidding about stopping by. We don't have a choice. Ignoring an invitation from her is social suicide. By the way, the cobbler is lethal."

Kade groaned. "So, you're saying there's no hope of getting us out of that?"

"Not without rumors spreading all over town. If I have to suffer through a visit, you do, too. It's payback for all those goals you scored on us last season."

He folded his arms over his chest. "I declare cruel and unusual punishment." Our eyes met, and we both laughed.

As we turned back to our work, I couldn't stop thinking about the upcoming visit. Visiting Dottie's place would be like diving into a fishbowl—every movement and every glance would be observed and analyzed. And her cherry cobbler wasn't the only thing that was lethal; her ability to uncover secrets was legendary in Whistleport.

"You know," I said, keeping my voice low, "Dottie's been the unofficial town gossip for as long as I can remember. Nothing gets past her."

Kade's eyes widened slightly. "So, this visit—"

"Could be interesting," I finished for him. "We'll need to be careful."

"Well," he said, "at least we have a week to prepare our act."

I swallowed hard, wondering if any amount of preparation would be enough to fool Dottie Perkins. Wednesday at seven suddenly loomed large in my mind, a deadline of sorts. By then, Kade and I would need to figure out exactly what we were to each other—and what we were willing to let the town see.

While the morning continued, we settled into a comfortable working pattern. Off the ice, without the rivalry, we were a surprisingly effective team. Kade's eye for what looked good perfectly balanced my practical notions about the easiest ways to complete a task.

We did run into a disagreement about hanging the primary "Welcome to Whistleport" banner. I was ready to put it where it was every year, but Kade wanted to consider new options.

He gestured with his right hand. "Maybe angling it this way would be better. It might catch the light well when people drive into town. The first impression should be a great one, right?"

As I considered his suggestion, I had to admit he was right. "More visible from the harbor, too."

Kade's face lit up, and for a moment, I thought about us in the future in a different reality. We weren't rivals and didn't carry the weight of responsibility for leading our teams. We could simply reach out to each other and—

"Looks great, gentlemen!" Brooks called out from across the square. "You two are a dynamic duo. Who would've thought it would be such a great pairing."

A flush crept up my cheeks. At my side, Kade shifted his weight. "Thanks, Brooks," he responded. "Just doing our part."

"And doing it very well. It's great to see you putting your differences aside for the greater good."

As Brooks walked away, something twisted in my gut. Was it guilt for not sharing our whole story?

When noon approached, Kade and I gathered our tools and headed to Tidal Grounds for refuge from the heat. Silas raised an eyebrow as we entered together. He leaned on the counter and, fortunately, spoke in a low voice that only we could hear: "Looks like our odd couple is smoothing over some of their differences."

I groaned. "Hilarious, Silas. Two iced Americanos, please."

"Coming up." He paused before turning to the espresso machine. "I've been watching the two of you from my window all morning. You make an impressive team."

Kade repeated his comment to Brooks. "Just doing our part for the town."

"Is that what you're calling it?" Silas started to hum as he operated the espresso machine. While he retrieved a pair of glasses and ice, he continued to talk. "Zig, I remember when you and Eric Callahan were inseparable. You'd be in here together after every game, win or lose."

I tensed when he mentioned Eric. A flood of memories washed over me—late nights in our dorm room studying plays, wildly celebrating victories, and consoling each other after excruciating losses. Eric was my roommate, best friend, and rock through college hockey's ups and downs. But things had been different lately. Ever since I started questioning... well, everything.

With Silas, I insisted nothing had changed. "We're still friends." The words sounded hollow even to my ears. The truth was, I'd been pulling away, afraid that if Eric saw the real me—the confused, questioning me—he wouldn't understand.

I thought about the last time we'd talked and how I'd made excuses to avoid hanging out. When I saw the hurt in his eyes, guilt gnawed at me. He deserved better, but I couldn't bring myself to open up to him. Not yet.

"What's your point, Silas?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, a defensive edge creeping in.

His back was still to us as he shrugged. "Merely an observation. Things change, and sometimes people come up with surprises."

Kade and I glanced at each other, but I couldn't read his expression. "Change isn't necessarily a bad thing," he said quietly.

Silas pushed the iced coffees across the counter. "No, but it can be scary, particularly in a little town set in its ways."

I grabbed my glass and swallowed a mouthful. "Thanks. I needed this."

Leaning on the counter, Silas shared more of his thoughts. "Listen, I don't know what's up between the two of you; frankly, it's none of my business. Still, I've lived almost my entire life here, and things can be rough sometimes for people who are… different."

I swallowed hard and looked down. Beside me, Kade didn't move.

Silas continued. "All I want to say is whatever's going on and whatever you're figuring out… you've got an ally here, and there are others in town, too." He pushed off and straightened up, suddenly speaking at twice the volume. "And yeah, Zig, I'll show you where I put the new shipments when you come into work tonight."

The abrupt shift in tone startled me, but it was impossible not to understand Silas's message, and I appreciated it. I turned to Kade. "Let's grab a lunch and get back to the square."

On the way to the job site, we made a quick stop at Miller's Bakery to grab sandwiches. The smell of freshly baked bread always brought me back to childhood when I'd go with Mom to pick up bread on the weekend.

At the town square, Kade and I found an empty spot under an old oak tree to unwrap our sandwiches and chug bottles of water. Our shoulders nearly touched while we ate.

Taking a break, Kade began to speak. "Ziggy, what Silas said… the last thing I want is to get between you and your hometown. I hope he's right about allies."

He was so direct and sincere. It made my heart skip a beat. I wanted to reach out, wrap my arms around him, and hold him. Unfortunately, we were very much in public view, surrounded by potential prying eyes and wagging tongues.

Instead, I addressed his comment. "Silas usually knows what he's talking about."

When everyone returned and the afternoon ramped up, we found our rhythm again. Kade found a group of kids working on streamers, and he helped them out. He was as charming with them as he had been with Dottie Perkins.

It was almost 5 p.m. when we could finally step back and admire our completed handiwork. We'd transformed the town square. It was festive and ready for the big crowds.

Kade whispered to me. "We did good."

He was right, and I agreed. "Yeah, we did."

Rory came along carrying his loudspeaker. He clapped his hands. "Alright, everybody! Great work out here! Let's get together for a group photo."

Kade and I joined the rest of the crew, and he deliberately brushed the back of his hand against mine on the way. I didn't pull away. Instead, I used a little pressure to let him know I'd noticed.

As we posed for the photo, a range of emotions washed over me. First was the pride in what we'd accomplished. Second was some degree of anxiety about what the future would hold. Finally, the most important was a warm sense of hope for a positive future.