13. Cleo

13

CLEO

A part of me couldn't believe she'd been bold enough to even ask. "Seriously?"

Cat shrugged. "Why not? We played together our whole lives, you know my weaknesses, you know my strengths."

Of course, she wasn't wrong. I hated to admit that I used to watch her highlight reels, checking her form every game.

"Plus," Cat continued, her charming smile leaking onto her cheeks, "You aren't afraid to call me on my bullshit. And I really need that now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Can you handle that?"

It was hard to believe she could. Toward the end of our relationship, Cat had become quite averse to critique. And if – it was a big if – I was going to help her, she'd have to take the notes I gave her on the chin.

"Yes." Cat struggled through the word.

But I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't say it if she wasn't sure. Cat was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them.

Looking into her green eyes, I swallowed hard. They were stunning, even now in the dim light of my bookstore. I wanted to believe I could handle this. I wanted to trust myself to help an old friend and not fall for an old lover.

But god , her face was gorgeous and she'd only gotten more charming with age.

"I don't know." I managed.

With a nod, Cat sighed. "That's not a no."

Biting my lip, I checked the time. "Book club starts soon. I'll think about it, okay?"

"Sure." She tapped her fingers against the counter, taking another look around the shop. "You've done a really great job with this place. I hope you're proud of it."

My chest tightened at the words. I had no idea how badly I needed it. As she turned to walk away, I watched her.

Over her shoulder, Cat looked back at me. "You still have my number?"

"I deleted it," I confessed with a smirk.

The corners of Cat's mouth turned up into a smile. "You still have it memorized."

It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact. And she was right, I did. I'd repeated it to myself for decades, knowing that if the day ever came I'd want to have it. Even if it was smarter for me to keep her as far away as possible.

I watched her leave the shop, the ding of the doorbell announcing her departure. But as she left, she brushed into an older woman heading inside. Daryl was just arriving for book club, looking confused as all hell to see the Cat Collins walking out.

As she approached the counter, her salt and pepper hair messy from a windy drive, Daryl scoffed. "What in the fuck is a pro softball player doing at Cleo's Shelf?"

Watching Cat cross the street, her head hanging low, I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Looking for a book on ancient history."

Daryl tilted her head, not entirely sure what I meant.

"We used to date, long before I was hosting book club." Coming out from the counter, I started grabbing the wood folding chairs from the supply closet near the checkout.

Raising an eyebrow, Daryl grabbed a chair and started unfolding it. "So what is she trying to dig up?"

For a moment, I hesitated. Daryl was sort of new to my life – at least relative to how long I'd known Cat. But she'd become a close friend and seemed to be an expert in finding love later in life. Maybe she had some wisdom to share.

"You heard about her career?" I bit the inside of my cheek.

With a nod, Daryl scoffed. "Every lesbian on this side of the Atlantic has heard about it."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, next to the WNBA, sapphics loved softball and Cat was an out and proud queer woman. She'd accrued quite a fan base over the years, something I'd watched from a safe distance.

"We used to play together, in high school and a bit in college."

"While you dated?" Daryl shook her head, already knowing the answer.

Shrugging, I set out the last chair, completing our circle. "Yep. She's back in town, wanting to get her shit right. And she wants me to help train her back to health."

"Yikes." Daryl walked around the circle and made sure each chair made a perfect circle. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked around the usually brewed coffee.

"I'll start it now." I chuckled.

As I worked on filling the filter and getting the new pot brewing, Daryl browsed the "New Releases" shelf at the center of the store. "How do you feel about all of that?"

I scoffed as the coffee machine started to sputter out the brown elixir. "I have no idea." Turning to face her, I shrugged. "I want to believe I could handle being close to my ex. But that breakup was… nasty."

A knowing "mhm" left Daryl's throat. But instead of speaking, she left me in silence as she watched on.

"I don't actually think I'd fall for her again. She was such a bitch at the end and her life is a complete mess. But I don't know that I want to invite her back in."

Daryl nodded toward the now-full coffee pot. Grabbing a paper cup, she passed it to me to fill. "What happens if you don't help?"

It was a question I didn't want to consider because the answer was obvious. "Honestly, she'll probably hang around here longer. Her career is a mess, she's been partying non-stop."

"All roads lead to New Winford." Daryl winked as she watched me fill the tiny cup. She'd been around long enough to know that this was true. This small town was a magnet, a guiding stone for the lost and lonely.

With a sigh, I passed the cup back to her. "It seems like it."

"And if you do?" Daryl pressed.

"If I do help?" Once she nodded, I groaned. "At best, I get my friend back and help her get the fuck out of here. At worst…" I couldn't even bring myself to say it.

She fails and it's my fault?

We fall back in love and she rips my heart out?

We actually hate each other even more?

She ruins New Winford for me forever and I have no choice but to flee to Canada?

The options felt endless and all of them were just as depressing as the last.

Sensing my anxiety, Daryl let out a deep sigh. "Well, dear. I have a feeling she's not going to let you say no. But if you do help her, she might get out of town faster."

As the words left her lips, the front doorbell rang as the other members arrived at the store. Daryl winked at me, leaving me with the thought as she took her favorite spot. Before Daryl had met Leah, I thought she was just a grumpy florist with no desire for love.

But what had become clear to me since their New Winford Garden Showdown victory, was that Daryl had been an unapologetic cupid in town.

As Zoey and Bri made their way inside, followed by our newest member, Abigail, I tried to push the thought aside. Maybe Daryl was right: the sooner I helped Cat recover, the faster she'd be out of my life. And right now, I couldn't handle letting her in longer than I needed to.