Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

TORIN

I really wanted to plan our next date, but Hugo beat me to it. I’m not even sure where we’re going while he drives his car through a field as the sun’s setting. After several minutes, I ask, “Where are we?”

“Egon’s property,” he answers, then points. “His house is in that direction. I don’t know why he has so much land, but he thinks it’s because Rake didn’t want anyone to build behind them, so he bought the entire plot.”

“What does he do again?”

Hugo laughs. “Dunno. Science.”

“He’s a scientist?”

He shrugs. “His job is science. I don’t know what specifically. He is Dr. Rakesh Aanhu, Ph.D. After that, I’m not sure what he does.”

“Huh. He’s really smart then.”

Hugo nods. “Yep.”

“Did you go to college?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I was enrolled, but then I was drafted to Philly’s farm team. I stayed there for a year and then was traded to St. Louis. Was there for a season, spent some time in Ottawa, Texas, and then I’ve been here for… a few years, anyway.”

“You’ve lived all over.”

“Not as much as some. I’m not as lucky as, like, Caulder Haines. He’s spent his entire career so far in Buffalo.”

I snort. “I doubt they’ll let go of anyone in that core group anytime soon. They have the talent to go far. I think they just need to get better support in the second and third lines.”

“Toby says the same thing,” Hugo says, grinning.

“I know. That’s where I got my opinion.”

He laughs.

I mean to ask him more, but then realize we’re approaching something in the distance. Something big. Like a white wall just randomly set down in the middle of a field. As we get closer, I decide it’s a temporary wall, though I still can’t tell what the purpose is.

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.”

He parks behind the wall. This time when he gets out, he doesn’t have anything with him. He comes to my side of the car and waits for me to climb out since I already have my door open. Hugo pulls me to his chest as soon as the door shuts.

I love how he sighs with that happy smile. He’s content. To know he feels like that with me means my heart never stops racing.

His lips brush mine before he takes my hand and leads me around to the other side of the wall. I’m not prepared for what I see, though in hindsight, there’s literally no other explanation for a strange temporary white wall but to be used as a movie screen.

Now that I’m so close, I can see that the frame of the wall is inflatable. The screen is a white material. Maybe vinyl. It’s stretched between the frame so it’s flat. There’s a projector a couple dozen feet in front of it.

Between the two is a blow-up pool filled with blankets and pillows. There are, once again, lanterns all around to offer some low lighting. There’s also a snack bar and popcorn machine, and even a canopy that can be pulled over in case it rains.

“How are you always so sweet?” I ask.

Hugo beams at me. “I was going to take you to the movies, but this sounded better when Egon offered. He even set it up for me. We just have to take it down when we’re finished. I have movies to last all night, so we can stay and take everything down in the morning before we join them for breakfast.”

If I thought the sweet ache in my chest couldn’t get any more intense, I was wrong. This man somehow materialized a pink, squishy marshmallow-like stuffed dragon, and a bouquet of flowers. I’m speechless as I stare, trying to rein in my emotions.

I take them and stuff my face into the flowers, pretending to smell them while I fight away the tears. In every fantasy, I never imagined the man I ended up with putting so much time and thought into, well, anything. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve never known that growing up. I’ve never seen it, nor had any reason to think I’d ever get to experience it.

When I pick my head up, Hugo is watching me. His eyebrows are knit together in concern. “Are you okay?”

So much for hiding it.

I nod. “Yeah. I just… can’t believe you did this for me.”

Hugo’s arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me close. “Why wouldn’t I?”

There isn’t an answer, so I shake my head, resting my forehead in the crook of his neck. “I don’t know.”

“You need to be treated better,” he notes. “I’m going to treat you like a… well, not a princess, I guess. A prince?”

Grinning, I press a kiss to his shoulder and pick up my head. “Thank you, but I really don’t need special treatment.”

“Of course you do. You’re special and I’m going to treat you as such.” He kisses my lips, then my forehead before pulling me into the movie area. There’s a little rug just outside the bed-pool. “Kick off your shoes here and step on the rug so you don’t have to step onto the grass,” he instructs.

I do as I’m told and climb into the bed. There’s a blow-up mattress within the blow-up pool so we’re not even laying on the ground with the blankets. I crawl over to the other side with my flowers and stuffed dragon.

“Oh. Here,” Hugo says, reaching for the flowers.

Handing them back to him, he sets them in a vase that already has some water in it. “I’m not going to unwrap them. It’ll be easier to take them home this way.” With a remote in hand, Hugo joins me in the bed.

I love the way he snuggles in then brings me against his chest. Resting my head on his shoulder, I sigh. Honestly, we could just lay under the stars right now. I love everything about this .

“First movie is a rom-com,” Hugo tells me. “I let Egon choose the movies, so if they suck, we’re blaming him.”

Laughing, I shake my head. It doesn’t matter what we watch.

The movie starts and I’m only partially paying attention. Hugo’s hand hasn’t stopped moving along my back since we curled up together. My eyes drift closed until something loud happens on the screen and I open my eyes.

Obviously, I missed the scene, but there’s a man behind a desk looking sternly at a woman. Maybe it’s a boss/employee movie. Or maybe the girl eventually becomes the boss and he is washing floors at the end.

I’m glad I don’t have a job like that. Not that I mind washing floors, but the nasty boss type.

“Did you want to be a hockey player growing up?” I ask.

“Nope. I wanted to be a ninja.”

I laugh. “Really?”

Hugo’s smiling. “Yes. My parents said there was no practical application in the real world, though they let me take karate for a while. Then it interfered with hockey and I had to make a decision.”

“Why did you choose hockey?”

He shrugs. “No idea. I don’t regret that because Dad was right. What would I be doing with a black belt right now?”

“Teaching others?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure that’s a career. I mean, I guess it can be a career. I’m just not sure I could’ve made a career out of it. I’m happy with the path my life took.”

I nod.

“What about you? What did you want to be?”

“I don’t really know. I’ve had anxiety my whole life; when I realized it would get in the way of working, I was completely lost about what I wanted to be because I knew I couldn’t do any of those things while hiding under a desk hyperventilating. It got to the point where I knew I just needed to find something, anything, to be able to live.”

“That’s not the way to choose a career.”

Sighing, I shrug. “I’m actually happy about ending up here. I love my job. It might not be someone’s dream job, but I don’t know that there’s anything I’d want to do otherwise. ”

“Even if you could choose anything? You’d choose to be a mascot?”

Laughing, I shrug again. “I don’t know. I love being Surry the Seal. I love working for the Golden Tides. There are opportunities for me to move up and do other things. I just haven’t wanted to pursue that yet.”

“I’m glad you like your job.”

His words are reminiscent of those my parents have said to me many times. Not quite condescending, but definitely not supportive. It makes my breath catch and I have to wonder if he thinks it’s lame.

“You don’t think it’s childish?” I ask.

Hugo snorts. “No.”

“It’s probably no one’s dream job. Kids don’t grow up saying they want to be a mascot.”

“Yes, they do!”

“Until they’re like… ten.”

He huffs. “There’s nothing wrong with being a mascot. Life shouldn’t be about what other people think of a job you do. If you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

“I think so too. It’s not like I plan to do this until I retire.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really been able to think of many careers where I could make something of myself that my anxiety wouldn’t get in the way.”

“No. Let’s say that your anxiety isn’t a factor for just a minute. What do you want to do? In an ideal world? Your absolute dream job?”

I sigh and close my eyes to think about it. Honestly, I haven’t put much thought into it because my life revolves around me trying to make sure my everyday circumstances don’t throw me into a tailspin and anxiety-induced breakdowns.

Being a mascot helps a lot. Being someone else entirely helps. Even if that someone is a seal. I’m not me. No one looks at me; they look at Surry the Seal.

What other things can I do where I’m wearing a mask? Serial killer comes to mind. Clown—which also has some haunting serial killer vibes. Speaking of haunting… I could work in a haunted attraction.

But Hugo said if I wasn’t someone who suffered from anxiety. What would I do? What is my dream job?

“I think I need more time to think about it,” I tell him.

“Do you want to go to college? You can do that online so you don’t have to be in a classroom full of people.”

Already, it almost sounds as if his thoughts concerning me are innately taking into account my anxiety. Why is that so hard for so many people to do? Hugo doesn’t put himself out to be courteous of my comfort. He’s not impatient with me or frustrated.

Then again, he hasn’t really seen me more than stupidly shy. There hasn’t been an occasion where I was surrounded by strangers and freaked out when he’s been present. I’ve done surprisingly okay with his friends, but I think that’s because they’re not strangers. Even if we haven’t talked before. They’ve been around almost every day since I started with the Golden Tides. They’re familiar.

There was that one time at the club, but Noah was there and recognized I was starting to have a meltdown and worked me through it. Then I’d been so awe-struck by Hugo that I nearly forgot. Until we were off the floor then Hugo saw I needed to leave and got me out of there.

The point is, even barely knowing me, knowing very little about my anxiety, Hugo simply saw when I struggled and did something to help me. Noah understood because he has anxiety too. He already knew how to respond. But Hugo does not. And if someone can treat you with kindness and courtesy without knowing what’s really going on?

The world needs more people like him.

I want to be like Hugo. Is that a career option? I glance up, feeling my cheeks heat at the thought. That’s just stupid. But I do want to be a person like him—kind, sweet, thoughtful.

As for college, I shake my head. “I don’t know, Hugo. Do you?”

“Statistics say that a college degree no longer guarantees what it did forty and fifty years ago. It only assures you’ll have debt unless you pay in cash as you go. So I’m not sure I really need a college degree. I’d only signed up because I was on a hockey scholarship and it was extending opportunity for me to be drafted. ”

“What do you want to do after hockey?”

“Ninja!”

I laugh. His lips press to the top of my head and I can feel him smile.

“I don’t know. I should think about it soon. Part of me wants to stay in hockey and coach or something, but another part of me wants to do something completely different. Hockey has been almost my entire life. I could do something else if I wanted. But in a lot of ways, I’ve lived a sheltered life. So much of what I know is either hockey itself or hockey related. Sports related. I guess even entertainment industry related. There’s a whole world out there that I don’t know anything about.”

I nod. “Maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t really know what I want to do, either. Hockey kept you in a box in the same way anxiety keeps me in a box. I’m not sure what else is out there.”

“If you had better support, I bet you could have found a lot of things. Or a doctor to work with your anxiety.”

“I have a doctor for that. A couple. Part of living with anxiety is managing the day-to-day triggers and avoiding them if you can. If you can’t, then learning how you can work through them.”

“Is this a case for a therapy dog? They can detect so many things like blood pressure and blood sugar and stuff. Can they detect the onset of an anxiety attack?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. That would be cool.”

“I’m just thinking out loud here. I don’t know if it’s possible, but if a dog can, then maybe it’ll open doors you didn’t know were there. Not that I want you to stop being our mascot. Especially not if it makes you happy. But if you wanted to do something else.”

“I really, really like my job. I’m not looking for a change right now. But I will definitely think about college and a dream career and a therapy dog.”

“You don’t have to. We’re just talking.”

“I know.” I squeeze his middle tightly. “I’ll think about this and you think about what you want your life to look like after hockey. We’ll share the challenge.”

Hugo laughs. “I already know what I want it to look like.”

“You do? ”

“Yep. Just like this. With you.”

I close my eyes. This man. I am so deeply in love with this fucking man.