The Muse and the Fairy Tale (New Hampshire Bears #1) (4 page)

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Authors: Mary Smith

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Sports, #Romance

BOOK: The Muse and the Fairy Tale (New Hampshire Bears #1)
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Chapter Six

Kyson

 

Meadow Hylton has been on my mind since the photo shoot when she ran away from me. I couldn’t get her blonde hair, blue eyes, and her sexy curves out of my head.

Oh, those curves.

I’ve turned into some teenage girl who can’t get her mind off her crush. Not to mention, Kian saw her at the game. Damn, why didn’t I search for her in the crowd?

“Be a man,” I told myself in the hotel mirror. I’ve been on the road for games the past three days.

“I want to talk to her,” I said aloud.

“Then do it,” I answered myself.

Great!
I was officially talking to myself
and
answering my own questions.

I opened the new laptop I’d just bought myself last week and brought up Facebook messenger. I’ve never had trouble talking to woman before. What was the big deal now?

“Start small,” I said and then growled because I was still talking to myself.

Did you get the pictures for the cover back?

I wondered if she was home. Does she have a boyfriend? I’ve never asked her. I bet that was the reason she blew me off.

Yes, I finally narrowed them down. Want to see?

Sure.
Play it cool, Kyson, I repeated in my head.

I waited as she sent each photo and told me what they’re for. She chose the one of me leaning on the net posts for her cover. I looked mean. The one of me casually sitting back in the stadium chair would go on the back of the book. The other four were of me on the bench and she said those would be posted for her readers as teasers.

They look great.
Even though I wasn’t sure they’d look so great on a book cover.

I’m thrilled.

How have you been?
Kian said you were at the game.

I was. I needed a break. And I’m doing fine. How are you?

Good.
All right, let’s pull out the big guns.
I was wondering why you rushed off after the shoot.

I’m on a deadline, and I had a lot of work to do.

I figured your boyfriend would have been upset if I took you to out.

I held my breath as the bubbles showed she was typing.

No boyfriend. I was busy. Promise.

Husband?
I wanted to make sure there was no one.

Nope. Just my cat and me.

Puckhead, right?

LOL. I see someone is stalking me.

Okay, Kyson this is your chance, I gave myself another pep talk.

I only stalk pretty girls I like.

There was a long pause. Facebook
showed me she’d seen the message, but nothing alerted me she was typing. I hoped I didn’t push her away; it was simple flirting.

Pretty? Girl? I’m much older than you; therefore, not a girl and pretty wouldn’t be a way I’d describe myself.

You can’t be much older than me. Plus, I think you’re pretty. How would you describe yourself?

First, I’m ten years older than you. Second, if you saw me right now, I think frumpy would be the best description.

Ten years isn’t a huge difference. Plus, frumpy is a bad word.

Okay, if you say so.

I do.
I smiled at the screen.
Are you coming to the game Saturday?

I don’t know.

If you come, I’ll take you to dinner afterward.

No. Kyson, I’m too old for you.

I rolled my eyes. She acted as if I was eighteen and never been with an older woman.

Why do you like hockey?
Maybe if I changed the subject she’d come around.

My dad played in college and he took me to the Bears games as a child.

Does he still go with you?

He died in Desert Storm.

My heart broke for her. She was quiet young when he died.

I’m sorry for your loss. What about your mother?

She died when I was college. Depression was a serious battle for her, but in the end, she couldn’t live without my father. She took a handful of sleeping pills and never woke up.

I was shocked to see her words. She’s been through so much, yet she’d made herself a huge success.

Meadow, I’m sorry to see how much pain you’ve suffered. I’m not sure what to say.

There’s nothing you can say. It’s made me a different person, but a stronger one too. Since we’re on the subject, tell me about yours.

My mother lost her battle with breast cancer when I was eighteen. I never knew my father. Kian has always been by my side though. He changed his whole life for me to help me make it to the PHL.

Kian?

He’s my brother. I thought you’d figured it out.

I assumed, but didn’t have confirmation.

He’s the greatest. I don’t know where I’d be without him.

That’s sweet.

Do you have any siblings?

Nope. It’s just me.

And Puckhead.
I reminded her, hoping it would make her feel better. I couldn’t imagine no one in my life. Hell, I know I wouldn’t want to be alone. Not that I couldn’t do it, but Kian was my rock.

I do have Puckhead.

So, Saturday after the game, I was thinking somewhere quiet. I heard there’s a great deli on the east end. A few of team members have been raving about it.

Again, several moments went by and I knew she saw my message. I was practically biting my nails waiting on her response. I was about to give up all hope.

Maybe. I’ll see how close I am to finishing the rewrites.

The smile grew on my face. She didn’t say no.

Here’s my number. Text me.
I quickly type out my number and then she sends me hers.

I got her number. Yeah, I felt like a teenage girl with her first crush.

 

 

I was excited to be back in Manchester. It had been a long few days on the road, and Meadow had been on my mind more than anything.

“Kian!” I yelled for him as I walked into our apartment.

“In the kitchen.”

I tossed down my bags before heading to the kitchen. “What are you doing?” The place was a wreck. There was flour, pans, butter, and God knows what else all over the counters.

“This
was
my attempt to bake a cake.” He pointed at a very burnt and deflated cake.

“Why the hell are you baking? You never bake.”

“I was trying to impress—” he stopped. “I mean I was trying to see if I could.”

I knew he was lying. Kian was a horrible liar. “Who are you trying to impress? Have you met someone?”

“Kyson.” He turned toward the sink, and I saw it.

“Dude, do you have a hickey?” I rushed to him. I yanked his t-shirt to get a better look. “You do have a hickey.”

“Okay.” Kian pulled away from me and covered it with his hand.

“You can’t hide from me, big brother. Tell me all about her.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. Where did you meet?”

Kian hesitated. “At a bar.”

“You went to a bar?” I couldn’t imagine him in a bar. “Great.” I quickly recovered. “When do I get to meet her?”

“Let me…let’s just wait.” He started to walk away but I stopped him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s only been one date, and I’m still feeling it out.”

“Sure, you are. You’ve felt enough to get a hickey.” I ribbed him some more.

He laughed nervously, and I realized I should let it go for now. “Hey, I talked to Meadow.”

“You’ve got it bad for her.” Kian relaxed because we weren’t talking about him anymore.

“I don’t know why, but I kind of do.” I jumped up on the clean part of the counter as Kian began to clean the rest.

“You do like older women,” he stated.

“She’s only ten years older. It’s not like she’s eighty.”

“Kyson, you’ve always had it bad for older women. It started when you asked out our neighbor’s daughter.”

“Hey, there was only a few years difference,” I corrected.

“You were ten and she was eighteen.”

“I said a few.”

“Not to mention you asked out every senior girl when you were a freshman in high school.”

I shrugged with a smile. “There were a lot of pretty girls.”

“And lastly, Angela—”

“Stop!” I seethed at him. “You’re not allowed to say her name.”

Kian held up his hands. “I’m sorry; I was just saying.”

“I have to unpack.” I leapt off the counter and stalked into the living room. I grabbed my suitcase, bag, and went off to my room.

I tossed everything onto the bed and stared at it. Damn it. Why did he have to say
her
name? I’d done so well forgetting her and the heartbreak.

I shook my head. I needed to think about the here and now. It had been over a year. I let that part of my life go. Thankfully, my phone buzzed, and I welcomed the distraction.

Okay. I’ll be at the game, and we can go out.

“I knew you’d see it my way, Meadow.” I smirked at my phone.

 

 

I spent a lot of the night hounding my brother about his new love, but he wasn’t giving up any details. No matter how much I asked.

Now, Saturday had arrived and it was Kian’s turn to rag on me. After the game, I was going out with Meadow. Excitement shot through me every time I pictured her stunning blue eyes or her hot curves.

I sat in my stall, dressed except for my jersey. I closed my eyes and hoped this game would be fast and great, and our date would start on a high note.

Coach Long was louder than normal, and he looked pissed at the world. I couldn’t understand why because we’ve been playing well. But he still yelled.

Out on the ice, I tried my best to search the crowd for Meadow, but I didn’t see her. I should have asked her where her seats were located.

Why didn’t I do that?

I felt like an idiot for not texting her earlier and asking. As I stretched one leg and then the other, I took a few breaths and cleared my mind of everything but hockey. No matter how much I wanted to think of her, hockey had to come first right now.

Chapter Seven

Meadow

 

It was a win for the Bears and Kyson. He racked up two assists tonight, and he had the biggest smile on his face. I shuffled with the rest of the crowd out of the door into the cool afternoon air. Didn’t fall just start yesterday? It felt as if winter was coming much quicker this year.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was Harlow.

“Yes?”

“Have you gotten your hands down Mr. Fine’s pants yet?”

I shook my head. “Why did I even tell you about the…well, whatever this is?”

“It’s a date. D-A-T-E. I’m sure you remember what those are.”

“Barely,” I mumbled, making my way to my car. “Don’t you remember my last date?”

“I do not.”

“It was that online date. He told me he was six foot one and a body builder, but he ended being five foot two with the shape of a stick figure.”

It was a horrible night. He did have a great personality, but he’d lied about his appearance. I wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover, but if you lie, I am done.

“Oh right, but this is different because you already know he’s hot.”

“Why did I say anything to you?” I repeated my question.

“Because you needed to work through your nerves. Although, I’m not sure why you’re nervous”

“He’s twenty-five.”

“So!” she shouted. “Does this mean he is some sort of mutation? Does it mean you can’t relate to him or have an in-depth conversation? There are a lot of mature twenty-five year olds and it’s not like you to judge someone with knowing them first.”

I reached my car and sighed in defeat. “You’re right.”

“Duh. Of course, I am.”

I laughed.

“Listen, Meadow,” Harlow lowered her voice, and I knew she was about to get serious. “Forget his age and just go have a fun time. You’ve been so caught up in your books the past two years, I don’t think you’ve done anything else.”

“I really haven’t.” I sighed again.

“Then give your vibrator a break and get some young, hot dick.”

Others would be been appalled by Harlow’s statement, but that was how she was and she’ll never change.

“Any other advice?” I dared to see what else she might say.

“Wear a condom. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

 

 

I drove across town to the deli Kyson told me about. I’d been here a few times, and it had descent food. I parked and wished I’d asked him what he drove to see if he was already here. There weren’t too many cars in the parking lot, so I decided to head inside before I chickened out and left altogether.

Kyson wasn’t inside yet, and I took a corner booth to wait for him. The young waitress came over, and I ordered a water, telling her I was waiting for a friend to join me.

Friend?

Is he?

I pushed my hand through my hair. I was thirty-five, not some fifteen year old on my first date wondering if I should change my Facebook status to:
in a relationship
now or after the date.

What is my Facebook status?

I couldn’t remember. Maybe I should just put:
It’s complicated, but I have a cat, so it’s okay
. I don’t think that one was available. It should be though.

I gave the waitress a small smile as she sat the water in front of me. I took a couple quick gulps to soothe my dry throat. My nerves were getting the best of me, and it was so dumb of me to be this way. I’ve been on hundreds of dates. I knew how this went. Small talk. Awkward silence. More small talk. Eating. Lame jokes. And it would be over.

I could get through this. Then when it was over, I’d go home and finish my rewrites, hit up
Netflix
, and then go to bed.

Simple.

Until he walked in.

My hormones went into overdrive as I studied him coming toward me. He was in black dress pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms. His wide, black tie was loosened and the top button undone.

He was sex on a stick.

He was the definition of sex.

He was fucking hot.

“Hi, Meadow.” Kyson’s voice broke me out of my sex-filled daydream.

“Hi, Kyson.” I smiled.

I’m not fifteen. I’m a mature adult.
I squeezed my thighs together to help relieve the tightness building just from looking at him.

“You look great.” He took a seat across from me.

“Really?” I looked down at myself. I had my yellow New Hampshire Bears t-shirt on. It was too tight over my breasts, but comfortable overall. Plus, I had a pair of flared jeans on with my fashionable construction boots. I was so casual there was no way I looked good. However, I had worked on my hair and makeup for the first time in I don’t know how long. Neither turned out well, or at least I thought they hadn’t turned out well.

“Did enjoy the game?”

“Yes, I did, even though you couldn’t pull out three assists in the end,” I joked.

Kyson smiled. “I’m not one to pull out. I tend to like the happy ending of it all.”

My mouth dropped as the waitress came over to the table. Kyson ordered hot tea.

“You two know what you want to eat?” she asked, looking between us.

“I’ll have the chicken on rye, but no tomatoes,” I said.

“Sounds good. I’ll have the same thing.” Kyson’s green eyes were still locked on mine. Did he even look at the menu?

She nodded and left us alone again. Kyson opened his mouth to say something, but I stopped him.

“I received the cover last night. Would you like to see the final product?”

His eyes lit up. “Sure.”

I opened my phone to my photo gallery and handed it to him.

“Shit,” he mumbled, studying the screen.

“Do you hate it?” I was apprehensive to see what he thought about it and now I wondered if it had been a mistake.

“The opposite actually. I didn’t know what to think after I saw the picture. This looks like a real book cover.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m writing a book.”

“I know; I’ve been reading your books.”

“So, you’ve said.” I reached for my phone, but he pulled it away from my grasp.

“Are there any pictures of your sex shed? Maybe you in the corset you promised me, but didn’t follow through with.” His tone was low enough for me to hear and seductive enough to make me squeeze my thighs again.

Two could play this game. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I held my hand out for my phone.

“You have no idea about how much.” Kyson winked, giving my phone back.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so flirtatious tonight?” It was time to clear the air between us. I wasn’t some immature woman. I’ve been around the block, and I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“I like you. Does that bother you?”

“No,” I said without thinking. “I mean, I’m thirty-five, you’re twenty-five—that’s a ten year difference.”

Kyson eyed me for a beat before resting his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Why do you write about hockey?”

“Oh.” I didn’t expect a change of subject. “I love hockey. It’s always been my favorite sport. I’ve followed it for years, especially the Bears.”

“Why did you become an author?”

I relaxed a bit. It brought me comfort to talk about books, hockey, and my career. “I love how a story can take you away from reality.”

“Why?”

“Well,” I paused. How far should I go into this conversation? Let’s see if he could handle my reality. “I’ve read books since I was a child. After my dad was killed, my mother began to spiral further and further into her depression. The books took me away from all of my real-world problems. In books, I went too far off lands, cross-country adventures, and just…somewhere else.”

At my age, you’d think I already had a grip on my past, but there were times it would sneak up and bite my ass.

“Why romance? Why not just write biographies of great hockey players? Some of them were quite adventurous.”

“You want the truth?”

“I can handle it. Even at my
age
.” He curled his lips at the word.

“I keep trying to find the fairy tale.”

He seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

I couldn’t answer right away because the waitress brought our sandwiches. I really hadn’t meant to tell him
that
truth. I’d planned on lying, but those damn green eyes and libidinous jaw made me forget we weren’t more than friends.

When the waitress left, Kyson didn’t touch his sandwich; in fact, neither did I.

“What did you mean?” He repeated his question.

“I’m still hoping to find my Prince Charming, Mr. Right, or whatever you want to call him.”

“Do you want children someday?”

Another out-of-the-blue question. “Since we’re being so truthful, no. I don’t want kids.”

“Why?” He took a bite of the sandwich.

“I just never saw myself as a motherly kind of person. I’ve always surrounded myself with career-oriented women and none of them have kids. But even as a kid, I never wanted to play with dolls and such. I bet you want a house full?” I wanted to stop talking about me as soon as possible since I was revealing every single detail about myself.

“No, I don’t want kids either. I feel the same way you do. I’ve never been a fatherly type. Even guys on the team with children, theirs make me uncomfortable in a way.”

I knew what he meant.

“And I wish for the fairy tale ending as well. I want to find Ms. Right. When I finish my hockey career, I want to travel the world with the love of my life. And when we’re finished, we can find a small town to build a home and enjoy our lives. Maybe garden, take up cooking classes, or something fun. But I don’t want to be in a city anymore. I’ve been in them all my life, and I’m ready to be rid of the hustle and bustle of it all.”

My heart stopped beating. Was he reading my mind? I wanted all of those same things. For the past couple years, I’d realized I needed to start thinking ahead more and I’d started a retirement account. I’d also started a savings account to fund my European travel dream.

I desperately wanted to take a whole year off and just travel. I had plans to do it closer to my fortieth birthday, as a gift to myself. I hoped there would be someone to go with me, too, but I wasn’t sure if there would be.

“You’re suddenly very quiet.” Kyson’s voice started my heart beating again.

“I’m wondering why a twenty-five year old is thinking so far into the future?”

Kyson’s small grin was sad. “Life is short, right? I plan ahead because it’s my end goal. I want to be an old man with my wife, in a rocking chair, next to me on our porch.”

He couldn’t be serious. “Aren’t you supposed to be club hopping and trying to get laid?”

“Were you doing that at my age?” he challenged me.

“Well, no. I was working at a bank and paying bills.”

“I’m not really into clubs. I’d rather be home, a movie on, and a glass of wine.”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. He was lying. He had to be, because he was too good to be true. Maybe I was dreaming?

“What’s wrong, Meadow?”

I removed my hands and gazed into his eyes. He had a grin playing on his face.

“If I had to guess what you’re thinking, I’d bet it’s that I’m not what you thought.”

“Something like that,” I muttered.

“Excuse me.” The waitress was at our table again. “Is there something wrong with the food?”

I looked down and saw I’d not touched my sandwich; Kyson had taken only one bite.

“The food’s fine. We’re just talking,” he answered.

The waitress seemed appeased and left us alone.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Kyson waited for me to answer.

“Yes, you are,” I answered him softly.

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