Chapter 12

12

Piper

The mama bear in me wants to rush into the arcade, grab Saxon and get the hell out of there. Except I know that's not the mama bear at all. That's Petty Piper. A nickname I gave myself a long time ago that nobody else knows about (except you and me now). Petty Piper loves to cause destruction on different levels. You know how it goes. I can be a bitch to someone on the phone for no reason, and then feel guilty later. Or I can take it to another level. I once dated a guy who only chewed on the right side of his mouth. And then he would sit there and slap his tongue against the right side of his mouth, then wince and wink. It drove me nuts. So Petty Piper told him either chew with his entire mouth or never call again.

That guy definitely never called me again.

In other words, Petty Piper wants me to get Saxon out of the arcade because I don't want Cutter near my son.

Why?

Because.

That's not a good reason.

It's good enough for me.

As I walk toward the arcade, I look at the table where Saxon and I had been sitting.

Sure, I can sit down. Sit alone. Have a meal to myself.

How fun.

At a pizza place, huh?

I shake my head.

I shove Petty Piper aside and let reality speak the truth.

Which is… Cutter Buckley is nothing more than a stranger to me. And certainly to my son. I don't know anything about him. I don't care about athletic fame or his big contract. Also, I'm not sure where Saxon is when it comes to being around guys.

What if he suddenly clings to Cutter or something?

I step into the arcade room and there's nobody there but Cutter and Saxon.

"Watch this," Cutter says. "What you do is hold the button in, okay? Keep your paddle pointed up and let the ball come down…" Cutter's face gets really serious. "Boom. See? Now I control it. Now you want to gently move the ball down and get the perfect angle to send it up the ramp."

There's a clicking-pop sound and the pinball screen lights up.

It's a zombie game so the machine groans and growls with the gurgling cries of the undead.

"Amazing," Saxon says.

He's fascinated by Cutter.

"Can I try it?" Saxon asks.

"Of course you can," Cutter says.

He steps back and Saxon jumps in.

He jumps to his toes to fully see over the pinball machine.

Cutter leans against the pinball machine next to the one Saxon is using. He looks at me and nods. He folds his arms.

I just stand there.

"Okay, I think I got this," Saxon says. "Watch…"

Cutter looks at the pinball machine. "Get it on the left paddle."

There are beeps from the machine and then Saxon smacks the top of it.

"Darn!" Saxon yells.

"Don't give up," Cutter says.

Cutter swipes a card and the pinball machine comes right back to life.

He then looks at me.

I see the cocky smirk on his face.

Probably wondering if I'm going to demand that I pay him back for the arcade costs.

Saxon pulls the lever and a pinball flies up into the game.

I take a few steps closer to the game.

"Now don't just leave the paddles as is," Cutter says. "You might have to grab the ball and hold it."

The little silver ball smacks the right paddle as Saxon moves it.

The ball goes up and to the left.

"There you go," Cutter says.

The pinball falls into the crook of the left paddle.

Saxon looks at Cutter. "I did it!"

"Sure you did. Now think where you want to send that pinball flying."

Saxon turns his head and looks up at me. "Mom, you should check this out. Cutter is a genius at this. Ready for this?"

Saxon sticks his tongue out and lowers the paddle and then hits the button with all his force.

The pinball hits a metal ramp within the game and jumps into the mouth of a zombie. The ugly face lights up and there are horrid screams from the machine.

"Bonus!" Saxon yells. "I've never done that before!"

Saxon turns and throws out his right fist for Cutter.

Cutter gives him a gentle fist bump.

"What do you think?" Cutter asks me. "Want to learn?"

He slides away from the pinball machine he's leaning against.

This one is racing themed.

Cutter swipes his card and the machine vrooms.

"Let's race!" a voice tells me.

"Hear that, Piper?" Cutter asks. "Better get going."

"Not interested," I say.

"Oh, come on, Mom," Saxon says. "It's really fun. Just listen to what Cutter tells you to do!"

Saxon then smacks the right side of his game and the machine roars with zombies and machine gun sounds.

"Another bonus!" Saxon cries out.

I step up to the racing pinball game.

I don't remember the last time I did something like this.

"Want to know the secret?" Cutter asks me.

"No," I say without looking at him.

I pull the lever and start to smack at the sides of the machine.

The pinball bounces all over the game. It dings. It lights up. Cars rev.

Then I lose the ball and it makes a car crash sound.

"I could have saved that," Cutter says.

I ignore him and pull the lever again. This time with more force.

Now I'm suddenly intensely playing this silly game.

I feel Cutter's eyes burning at me.

I almost lose the pinball right away but somehow balance it on the right paddle and flick it a little.

The pinball moves toward the left paddle.

"Close it up," Cutter says.

"Be quiet," I snap.

Cutter then presses his fingers to my fingers.

The paddle lifts and hugs the pinball.

I suck in a breath and look at my fingers. Cutters fingers are touching mine.

Then I look up at Cutter.

I pull my hand away and the pinball rolls down and the car crash sound echoes again.

"I didn't ask for your help," I say.

"You were going to lose it anyway. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Why do you have to try and insert yourself into everything?"

I turn away and Saxon is no longer playing pinball.

"Saxon?" I call out. "Saxon? Where are you?"

"Over here," my son says.

I turn to my right as a wave of panic hits me.

Saxon is at another game. That's all.

I glance back at Cutter and curl my lip.

I feel this grumpy baseball player is nothing but bad news for me and my life.

"Virtual reality?" Cutter asks, looking down at Saxon.

My son has his arm all the way up, holding a thick set of blacked-out goggles.

"It's really cool," Saxon says. "We're going to walk through the woods and attack zombies."

"What's with you and zombies tonight?" I ask.

"Zombies are cool, Mom," Saxon says with a face so cocky I feel like a mini version of Hunter just appeared.

"So I just put this over my head?" Cutter asks.

"Yup," Saxon says.

I have to admit I can't remember the last time anyone paid this much attention to Saxon that wasn't me. Bethany even came over twice to remind Cutter that his pizza is still sitting untouched at his table.

If this is supposed to be Cutter's dinner, he must be ravaged with hunger by now.

He's not too worried about it.

He's putting on the goggles to play some virtual reality zombie shooting game with my ten-year-old son.

Of course this is nice to see.

But Petty Piper knows how this plays out. I know what it'll be like when Saxon says something about Cutter and Cutter isn't around because he's left town. Or if Saxon says something in front of his father, then I have Hunter pestering me about dating someone. Which I am not doing!

"Okay, get ready," Saxon says.

"This is freaking my eyes out, kid," Cutter says. "Are you dizzy?"

"Not at all," Saxon says. "You need to man up."

I almost burst out laughing.

Saxon is a third the size of Cutter and he's telling the muscular baseball player to man up.

"On your right," Saxon says.

Cutter throws a punch. "Got him. Oh, look, there's a weapon on the ground."

"Pick it up," Saxon says. "It's a machete. Things get really gross now."

I shake my head.

Boys. Men.

Why do they love violence so much?

Cutter slices his hand through the air. He's watching a machete. I'm watching him look kind of dumb.

Saxon loves it.

"Now we have to get ready for the group of them," Saxon warns. "There's going to be about a hundred of them. Some of them swell up too."

"Swell?" Cutter asks.

"Oh, yeah. It's crazy. Cutter! To your left! It's a boss zombie!"

Cutter lets out a yell and starts to swing and kick.

"I dropped the machete," Cutter says.

His deep voice compared to my son's boy voice makes me smile.

Cutter suddenly jumps to his right.

I gasp and cover my mouth with my right hand as Cutter's head snaps back and the goggles start to come off his head. He's so invested in the game he's forgotten it's not reality. Cutter lunges forward and goes body first into the game machine itself.

The goggles come off for good as Cutter stumbles back and ends up falling right down to his butt.

It's like watching a viral video online.

My hand falls from my mouth and my jaw drops.

I can't believe what I've just witnessed.

"Cutter, you're dead," Saxon says.

"I feel it, kid," Cutter growls.

He looks back at me.

I'm now sucking in my cheeks so I don't laugh. I tell myself Cutter is only in town because of injuries. And now he might have hurt himself…

I just can't believe it. This huge baseball player. Playing virtual reality. Getting hurt.

"Cutter," I say. "Are you okay?"

I think his ego is hurt worse than any body part.

He climbs to his feet.

"Hey, kid, you're on your own with this one," Cutter says.

"That's fine," Saxon says. "Thanks for playing."

"Sure," Cutter says. "Hey, make sure you eat too."

"I've been. I will. Oh, man! Here comes the group!"

Cutter walks away from the game and pauses near me. "Slice of pizza?"

"Okay," I say and nod without thinking.

I don't like Saxon being out of sight.

But this place is home to me. This town. This pizza place. Everything here is home. It's safe. It's quiet.

And, yes, Saxon has been in the arcade alone many times before.

Cutter pulls out a chair for me at his table.

There's an untouched pizza waiting.

"Eat up," he says.

"I'm good, thanks."

"That could have been bad," Cutter says. "If I hit my shoulder and hurt myself? Playing a video game?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Sure."

"Is it okay to laugh now?" I ask as I start to laugh.

Cutter's jaw flexes with annoyance.

Oh well… I can't help it. I just watched some rough and tough baseball player playing a zombie virtual reality game think the zombies were actually attacking him and he ran into a wall and fell down to his butt.

"Imagine that call," Cutter says. "Having to call my agent or some of the guys and tell them I'm hurt again."

"Yeah," I say.

"Speaking of which… we should talk about something quick."

"Oh? We have something to talk about?"

"Do I still have a handprint on my cheek?" Cutter asks.

I roll my eyes. "Don't act like you didn't have it coming."

"I want you to know I had nothing to do with that. I'm sorry they did that. It's a thing we do. It's stupid, I know."

"You text random people that there's an emergency?"

Cutter takes a deep breath. "Not exactly. Not random people."

"What does that mean?"

"Trey, PJ, Ranger, and I all came up through the minor leagues together," he says. "We bounced around in the pros and now we're on the same team. It's a fun time. But we always had this thing… like I said, it's stupid. Let's say Ranger was dating someone. We'd take his phone and mess around. Same for PJ, even though he doesn't really date anyone. Same for Trey. It's usually Trey who starts this stuff. They were asking questions about… well, I didn't have a vehicle, Piper."

I gasp. "Oh."

Cutter nods.

"So your friends thought you and I were…"

"I wouldn't call it dating, but, you know. So Trey took my phone and sent you those texts."

"Because Trey thought you and I…"

I can't bring myself to say the words.

Dating…?

Screwing…?

"They're idiots," Cutter says.

I find myself short on words because I'm thinking about having sex with Cutter.

No! Not in the literal sense! I mean in the sense that his baseball buddies think that…

"Mom, I'm hungry."

I turn and Saxon is standing behind me.

I blink a few times.

"Grab a slice, kid," Cutter offers.

"No," I say.

"Yes," Cutter says. "It's all good. Grab a slice. Grab two. Find Bethany and get a drink. It's all taken care of."

Saxon thanks Cutter and steals a slice, then runs back toward the arcade.

I look at Cutter once more.

"I know you want to go back to keeping an eye on your son," he says to me. "Let me pick up the check for all the food and drinks. That's my apology for what my friends did."

I find myself nodding again.

I don't nod like this. Ever. Not because of some good-looking man. No. Never. Ever.

Cutter reaches and touches my right hand. "Maybe we can continue this conversation again sometime soon?"

Cutter's phone starts to ring and he apologizes and tells me it's his agent and he has to take the call.

I watch him walk off toward the door and go out into the night.

I sit there, sort of flabbergasted.

With one question on my mind.

Did Cutter Buckley just ask me out on a date?