The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

“I thought you do book covers?” he asked.

“I do, but they let other people have tables as long as they pay, and if I go, I might be able to get more work out of it. Half my clients are authors, the rest is a mix of whatever anyone asks me to do.”

He switched legs as he asked in a genuine voice, “Like what?”

And it was moments like these that made the distance between us in the past so apparent. “Anything really. I’ve had some commissions for business cards, business logos, posters, and flyers. I’ve made a few designs for band T-shirts. A few tattoo designs.” I pointed at the shirt I was currently wearing. It was off-white with a neon colored sugar skull and ruby red roses surrounding the crown of the head. THE CLOUD COLLISION was spelled out just below the jaw. “I made this for my friend’s boyfriend’s band. I’ve also done some work for Zac and a couple of guys on your team.” I didn’t miss the way his head jerked up when I mentioned that. “Mostly redoing their logos and doing banners for them and things like that,” I told him, almost a little shyly, self-conscious about my work.

“Who?” he asked, perplexed and more than slightly surprised.

“Oh. Um, Richard Caine, Danny West, Cash Bajek, and that linebacker who got traded to Chicago during the offseason.”

“I never heard anything about it.”

I shrugged, trying to smile to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

He made this soft, little thoughtful sound of his, but didn’t add anything. The silence that wrapped around us wasn’t awkward at all. It just was what it was. After a few more stretches, Aiden touched me on the shoulder before disappearing into the house, apparently done.

By the time I made it inside and slipped my glasses back on, I found Zac standing at the stove in the kitchen. Aiden had taken a seat at the kitchen island with a glass of water. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I filled it up with the same.

“What are you making for dinner?” I asked Zac as I peeked over his shoulder.

He gave what smelled like onions and garlic a stir. “Spaghetti, darlin’.”

“I love spaghetti.” I batted my eyelashes when he glanced at me, earning me a grin. I took a seat on the stool one down from Aiden’s.

The tall Texan let out a soft laugh. “There’s more than enough. Aiden, you’re on your own. I put meat in the sauce.”

He just lifted one of those rounded shoulders dismissively.

I got up to get another glass of water when Zac asked from his spot still at the stove, breaking up the two pounds of ground beef he’d added to the vegetables. “Vanny, were you gonna want me to help you with your draft list again this year?”

I groaned. “I forgot. My brother just messaged me about it. I can’t let him win again this year, Zac. I can’t put up with his crap.”

He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I got you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank—what?”

Aiden had his glass halfway to his mouth and was frowning. “You play fantasy football?” he asked, referring to the online role-playing game that millions of people participated in. Participants got to build imaginary teams during a mock draft, made up of players throughout the league. I’d been wrangled into playing against my brother and some of our mutual friends about three years ago and had joined in ever since. Back then, I had no idea what the hell a cornerback was, much less a bye week, but I’d learned a lot since then.

I nodded slowly at him, feeling like I’d done something wrong.

The big guy’s brow furrowed. “Who was on your team last year?”

I named the players I could remember, wondering where this was going and not having a good feeling about it.

“What was your defensive team?”

There it went. I slipped my hands under the counter and averted my eyes to the man at the stove, cursing him silently. “So you see…”

The noise Zac tried to muffle was the most obvious snicker in the world. Asshole.

“Was I not on your team?”

I gulped. “So you see—”

“Dallas wasn’t your team?” he accused me, sounding… well, I didn’t know if it was hurt or outraged, but it was definitely something.

“Ahh…” I slid a look at the traitor who was by that point trying to muffle his laugh. “Zac helped me with it.”

It was the thump that said Zac’s knees hit the floor.

“Look, it isn’t that I didn’t choose you specifically. I would choose you if I could, but Zac said Minnesota—”

“Minnesota.”

Jesus, he’d broken the state in two.

The big guy, honest to God, shook his head. His eyes went from me to Zac in… yep, that was outrage. Aiden held out his hand, wiggling those incredibly long fingers. “Let me see it.”

“See what?”

“Your roster from last year.”

I sighed and pulled my phone out of the fanny pack I still had around my waist, unlocking the screen and opening the app. Handing it over, I watched his face as he looked through my roster and felt guilty as hell. I’d been planning on choosing Dallas just because Aiden was on the team, but I really had let Zac steer me elsewhere. Apparently, just because you had the best defensive end in the country on your team, didn’t mean everyone else held up their end of the bargain. Plus, he’d missed almost the entire season. He didn’t have to take it so personally.

It only took a second for him to see who I had on there and he flicked his dark irises back up at me. “Zac helped you?”

“Yes,” I muttered, feeling so, so bad.

“Why didn’t you put Christian Delgado on your team?”

Just the sound of his name made my upper lip begin to snarl.

But before I could say anything, Zac chipped in, “I know I told you to add Christian.”

He had. I just hadn’t because he was a scumbag. Getting up, I went back to the fridge, refilled my glass, and muttered, “I didn’t want to.”

The master of “Why?” didn’t let me down.

The fact was, I was a terrible liar, and I wouldn’t be surprised if both Aiden and Zac realized I was making things up if I did. “I don’t like him,” I answered bluntly, hoping but knowing that wasn’t going to be a good enough answer for either one of their nosey asses.

“Why?”

“I just don’t. He’s a slimeball.”

“I don’t like him much either, darlin’,” Zac claimed.

Keeping my gaze on my glass for longer than necessary, I gradually lifted my head and immediately noticed Aiden’s dark irises on me. He was thinking, and I was pretty sure disbelieving at the same time, that intelligent face making me antsy. Did he know I was hedging around the answer?

If he did, he let it go for the time being when he dropped his attention back to my phone. That little line between his brows left me on guard. The line deepened as he asked, Zac, “Why did you tell her to choose Michaels?”

Zac responded something that left Aiden shaking his big head. “Don’t listen to him. I’d help you if you asked.”

We were having another moment like the one earlier when he’d asked about my work. I thought about not bringing it up, then decided against it. “I did once. Two years ago. I asked you a question about wide receivers and you told me to look it up on the Internet.”

He winced. Aiden literally winced. And I felt just the teensiest bit guilty for reminding him of something that hadn’t been important enough for him to remember.

In the spirit of being nice since he’d gone for a run with me, I reached across the counter and patted his hand. “Hey, we have the next five years for you to help me out.”





Chapter Twelve





It was amazing how easily you could settle into a major change in your life.

Mariana Zapata's books