Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📕

The creamy avocado and crackling cayenne blends on the tongue in perfect harmony, but besides the satisfying taste, I also adore its color—a bright, neon green.

Also, the ice cream parlor’s staff never looks at me weirdly when I ask to switch their usual too-thin napkins for the more absorbent paper napkins they use for mopping their counters, which is a significant plus for me. I hate how the serviettes becoming soggy when I wipe up an ice cream spill.

“I’ll be there next time, okay?” Laia stands and rolls up the mat she’s borrowed from us. “I’ll see you both later.”

I jump up and hug her. “Have fun with your cousin. And please, don’t forget”—I pretend to zip my mouth, close a lock, and throw away the key—“no word to Dev.”

Laia’s jaw tightens. “Okay. Although I hate keeping anything from him, this secret is yours, so I’ll do what you want. But are you sure that Wyatt isn’t perhaps interested in—”

Before she can continue, I nod. “I am. And even if Wyatt had other intentions, I couldn’t care less. I have a date on Sunday, did you forget?”

Laia gives me a doubtful glance, then nods. “Okay…fine. You know that I love you. I’ll support your relationship with any men you dream of.”

She picks up her bag and scurries to the door.

While I stare at her back, my dream from last night comes to mind. An uneasiness settles in the pit of my stomach as I recall Laia’s last words. It was just an expression. She didn’t mean it literally. Besides, I can’t influence whose face my brain conjures while I’m asleep, can I?

I shake my head and blink back at Cora. “So, it’s just the two of us then. Ready to go?”

“Uhm…” Cora peeks up at me with a guilty expression, her long lashes batting like a hummingbird’s wings. “I can’t come either. Andrew’s mother is in town. He bought last-minute tickets to the opera for all of us.”

I debate about pointing out that Cora loathes classical music and gets headaches whenever Hope listens to Chopin or Ravel at home, but I decide against it. Though I prefer keeping our routines intact, it’s not the end of the world if I have to go alone to the ice cream parlor.

I wave and opt for a cheerful tone. “It’s okay. I’ll just get an extra cone and eat it in your honor then.”

Cora wiggles her finger. “Don’t you dare. You need to fit into the dress I’m planning to lend you for your date with Dr. Dazzling Smile.”

I giggle. “Okay, I’ll show some self-discipline, I promise.”

Chapter 15

(Wyatt)

As I exit Devon’s cool condo at the Willo district, the hot evening air engulfs me with a cheeky embrace. The sky dances in the same reddish hue as the protein shake I drink on Wednesdays, when I add pomegranates and beetroot into my usual mix.

Did my buddy and I chat this long?

When I arrived at Devon’s place, it was still early afternoon. I guess it just proves that when you spend time with the people whose company you enjoy, time becomes a relative concept.

Like during my sessions with Ellie. 

Each time she announces that our time is over, I can hardly grasp that we were together for hours and not minutes.

A car honks nearby. The shrill beep yanks me out of my thoughts. I blink up just as a red Chrysler passes by. Its windows are rolled down, and from the backseat, a guy with glasses gawks out, his face a sheet of utter boredom. When his eyes zero in on me, his features reanimate. He leans out and waves at me frenetically while screaming, “Go, go, Kites!”

I’ve been made. 

I give a thumbs-up to the young man, but after the car disappears around the corner, I drop my head to my chest and scurry to my Corvette, which I parked behind Devon’s building. I open the trunk and grab a baseball cap I keep there for occasions when I want to conceal my signature blonde curls. After I shove it right down to my eyes, I straighten.

I rarely dodge fans, but right now, I’d just like to have a quiet walk on my own.

It might feel as if time had wings when Ellie works with me, but she sure drains me with her exercises. And it’s a different exhaustion than I’m accustomed to dealing with.

In high-season, it’s an exception to have a day that doesn’t end with my cells screaming for mercy. Usually a good night’s sleep, nutritious dinner, and a Thai massage are enough to wipe the slate clean and get me back into my game the next day. But right now, it isn’t my muscles that are depleted, it’s my mind.

Facing all those flashbacks from my childhood has left my brain crowded with images and questions. Not to mention those sensations that Ellie’s closeness stirs up in me.

I need some space to process it all, and I hope that wandering aimlessly on the streets might allow me to do that. Without making a conscious decision about where to go, I begin ambling.

After a few steps, a sign for Encanto park draws my eyes, and the memory of an ice cream parlor comes back to me.

I’m tempted to suppress it as soon as it surfaces. I know I shouldn’t remember that period. That was one of Ellie’s conditions. But before I can pull the brakes, my mind has already conjured the vision.

I see Ellie standing on tiptoe, her curls bouncing as she turns her head to take in the colorful buckets of creaminess. Her face is a mixture of excitement and concern as if she were pondering the fate of the world. Her expression makes me laugh, because I know that no matter how long we stay glued to the long glass case studying the tags that stick out from the flavors, she’ll end up picking the same one she always does.

Is Daisy’s Creamery still open?

It’s worth checking out.