Page 60 of Wild Card 13

The truck rolled through another intersection. Then another.

A few moments later I realized something. I frowned. "Ty."

"Hm?"

"You missed my turn."

"I know."

I sat up straighter. "Why?"

He shrugged. "We're talking."

I stared at him. He kept his attention on the road. Completely serious. Completely unconcerned. Like taking the long way home was the most obvious thing in the world.

A few blocks later he turned onto First Avenue. The bright lights of downtown Northbend reflected against the windshield.

Then Betsy slowed. And slowed again. Until finally Ty pulled into an empty parking spot along the curb. The black building across the street stretched along the block, covered in white stars and names. Towering above it all, the massive billboard glowed against the darkening sky.

"Why are we stopping?" I asked.

Ty shifted into park. The engine continued rumbling beneath us. Then he looked over. "I don't know."

A smile tugged at my mouth. "That's reassuring."

He laughed. Then his expression grew thoughtful. "I just feel like everybody's always trying to get somewhere."

I blinked. "What?"

Ty leaned back against the seat. "Practice. School. Games. Homework. College. The NHL. The future.” His gaze driftedtoward the stars painted across the building. "I feel like my whole life is everybody asking me what's next."

"What do you tell them?"

"Hockey.” Ty laughed once. Then he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "If somebody asks where I'll be next year? Hockey. Five years from now? Hockey. Ten years from now? Hockey." His smile turned smaller. "And honestly?" His eyes met mine. "I don't really know what happens if it isn't. You know what the funny part is?"

"What?"

"You never talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like hockey's the only thing I am."

I looked at him sitting there beneath the glow of downtown lights. Messy blond hair. Crooked smile. Big hands wrapped around mine. “But you’re not just hockey. You’re Ty. Funny, thoughtful, talented, annoying. All of it.”

His mouth twitched. I continued.

"You’re kind. The guy everybody calls when they need help moving furniture, who pretends he doesn't care about people when he actually cares too much."

Something warm moved through his eyes.

The city glowed beyond the windshield. The stars painted across First Avenue seemed to shine beneath the streetlights.

Ty's thumb brushed across mine. Back and forth. Slowly. Thoughtlessly.

The music settled around us. Like it belonged there.

A few minutes later, Ty finally put the truck back in gear. The drive to my house felt shorter after that. Maybe because neither of us wanted it to end. Maybe because we'd already said the things that mattered.