Her lips curve in quiet understanding. “So that’s it. You’re afraid he’s not in the same place as you.”
“You see…” I stop, my mind scrambling. I have to tread carefully. One wrong word and the entire fake-dating façade will crumble. And suddenly it feels absurd, childish even, this whole elaborate ruse when my emotions are clearly sprinting miles ahead of the plan.
I try again, choosing my words carefully. “You see…it’s not quite like that between us.”
Gina pats my hand, but something shifts in her expression—a tiny grin that doesn’t match the seriousness of our conversation. Mischievous. Knowing. Like she’s been watching much more closely than I realized.
“Ah,” she says softly. “Then I guess we’re seeing different things.”
My brows knit. “What does that?—”
Cheers explode across the lounge, cutting me off. The sound thunders through the walls, vibrating the floor. Josie waves from across the room, half-shouting over the noise, “They’re back!”
The crowd surges toward the seats, excitement buzzing like electricity, and Gina gives my hand one last squeeze before we join them, her cryptic words echoing in my head louder than the fans, louder than the announcer, louder even than the pounding in my chest.
What exactly does she think she sees?
27
Jaxon
Our mood is low but still holding onto some tiny flicker of hope. Edmonton might have taken tonight’s game, but we’re still up two to one in the finals. There’s still time to turn this around. The coach gives his speech—it’s the usual blend of motivation and technical breakdown—but tonight it lands heavier. No one’s talking about post-loss beers. The energy in the room feels dimmed. We head to the showers in silence.
Normally, after a loss, we’d blow off steam and grab a drink, shake it off before it sticks. But we’re all exhausted. Or maybe just spent in a different way. I can practically feel the guys itching to get home to their families, to the people who help put the pieces back together when hockey tries to break us.
Families.
Mine are in Vermont, hours away. But Rowyn’s here. And technically she’s not family, but damn if she doesn’t feel like mine in ways I don’t think I’ve admitted out loud. Not even to myself.
“Hey, going out for a drink?” Tuck asks as he passes by, and I catch the way his shoulders droop slightly. He’s down. Really down. And that’s not like him. The captain is usually the one holding the glue, keeping our spirits together when the rest of us unravel. For a long time, I thought he and Maria—the woman at the Nook—had something going on. But lately he’s been alone. Quiet. Like a guy who thought he had somewhere to land and suddenly doesn’t.
I’m about to say yes, because he looks like he needs someone, and hell, I want to be that guy for him. But before I can answer, Nicklas slings his arm around Tuck’s shoulders.
“I’m in. Lumber-Jax here needs to get home to his girl. Look at him. Lovesick puppy.”
“Fuck off,” I shoot back, trying to make it light, but I can’t help noticing the way Tuck stares down, jaw tight. Hurt. Something’s going on with him, and I hate that he’s pushing it away.
“I’ll come. I just need to shower.”
“No, it’s okay.” Tuck gives me a small smile, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You go home to Rowyn. Nicklas and I’ve got interviews anyway.” His voice dips. There’s sadness there I’ve never heard before.
Did something happen with Maria? I’m not even sure they were ever officially together, but I thought there was a spark. Still, she’s got two teenage boys who would fight off a whole NHL roster for her, so maybe that’s complicated. Maybe he gave up.
As he walks off with Nicklas, already halfway into some conversation he probably doesn’t want to be in, I pause. I should go with him. Be the friend he clearly needs right now. But there’s this pull inside of me, one I can’t help but answer.
Tomorrow, I promise. I’ll reach out. Maybe meet up at the Nook, see if I can feel out what’s going on. Maybe I’ll take Rowyn. Unless she wants to head to Golden Grinds to see the coffee shop guy.
The thought lands hard. A sharp pulse of jealousy flashes through me, followed by something hotter. Anger. Possession. Not exactly feelings I want to examine, but there they are, loud and uninvited.
Rip jumps up onto the bench and calls out, “Guys, don’t worry. We’re going to take Edmonton down, and then we’re going to party.”
The guys cheer. I join in, or try to. It feels thin.
“The girls are going to Vegas next month,” Rip announces. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do a guys’ trip at my granddad’s hotel. You’re all invited.”
That actually sounds good. A break from all of this. And maybe…maybe some nights I can sneak into Rowyn’s room if she’d want me there. I wouldn’t want to step on her girls’ trip—it’s important to her—but the idea of sleeping without her next to me, even for a long weekend, hits harder than I’d like it too.
Get used to it, idiot. This thing ends after Vegas.