“I was just consoling Mackenzie here. Her date bailed,” Heather tells Beckett.
“Conner is stuck in Minnesota. The airport is closed because of the weather,” Shelby pipes up for me. “He’s FaceTiming her at midnight though. Doesn’t want to let her start the year without him.”
Beckett’s expression dims and he looks back over at me. Still, he says nothing. I feel the animosity in his glare though. He’s loving being the victim in this. I hate that I made that up. I wanted to hurt him by making him think that I cheated on him first, but I didn’t realize it would let him off the hook for feeling bad for what he did to me. “I can’t believe anyone picked him up.”
“He’s a great player,” I say even though I haven’t actually watched one of his games, ever. But my dad used to sing Conner’s praises all the time.
“I heard the owner of the Riptide just wants to collect all the hometown players like trophies,” Heather tells us. “So it really doesn’t matter if he’s good anymore.”
“Riptide? What do the Portland Riptide have to do with Conner?”
Shelby’s face confirms I’ve fucked up. She leans in. “Con was picked up by Portland. He plays for the Riptide now.”
“I thought… he said Colorado…” I stutter.
Beckett gives me the most condescending smile. “Your boyfriend plays for the Riptide, Mackenzie. Are you telling me you don’t even know that? He didn’t tell you that?”
“I… I must have misunderstood,” I stutter. God, why am I so bad at lying?
Beckett has the balls to shake his head and make a tsk-tsk sound. “Poor Conner. Another reason to feel sorry for him.”
I open my mouth to tell him something. Like maybe just to go fuck himself, but before I can say a thing he and Heather have sauntered off. Shelby leans close to me, her eyes wide and a look of utter confusion on her face. “You didn’t know Con played for the for the Riptide? Really? How?”
“He said he was going to Colorado!”
“On a road trip,” Shelby clarifies. “And Minnesota is the second leg of the road trip. I thought you guys have been texting? Talking?”
Why did tonight have to become such a nightmare? I sigh and put my wine glass down, giving up on this night entirely. “He never clarified. And I didn’t google it or anything. I mean, I guess I should have.”
“The local paper had his face on the cover, and he was on the front page of the Portland Herald’s sports section,” Shelbyexplains and rubs my shoulder, giving a squeeze of support, but there’s no way to fix how stupid I looked in front of Beckett now.
“I didn’t even know Silver Bay had a paper,” I confess. “I mean who even reads papers anymore? I can’t believe I had to screw that up in front of Beckett of all people.”
“Ah, fuck him,” Shelby says consolingly. “His opinion doesn’t matter.”
"We've got five minutes to go until midnight, everyone!" Heather's voice comes over the speakers. She's standing by the DJ's set-up and someone has given her a microphone. "Find your special someone!"
“We should just go,” I say.
“But Con said he was going to call you,” Shelby replies.
“I’ll text him that I left. It’s fine.” I pause. “I mean, I can stay if you really want to…”
She grins. “Hell no, I’ve got the newest season ofBridgertonwaiting for me on Netflix and my favorite fuzzy pajamas.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We weave our way around tables, and past that stupid fireplace that’s making the whole place too warm, and around the massive Christmas tree in the corner. We’re seconds from freedom, moments from leaving this whole humiliating night behind when… Heather screams.
Okay, it's more of a squeal. It's piercing, and shrill, and draws the eyes of every single person in the room, including Shelby and me. There, in front of the DJ, is Heather with her hands in front of her open mouth, staring down at Becket who is on one knee in front of her. "I want to start the new year with a fiancée. What do you say, Heather?"
“Oh fuck no,” I hiss and charge out the doors.
I basically rip my coat off the hanger in the coat room and am halfway to the front door before Shelby catches me. “Areyou okay? Jesus, that was… well, I mean it has to have sucked. Even if you’re over him.”
"Yeah. It sucked," I confirm as we step out of the golf club and into the frigid night. "Especially because I found that ring in his sock drawer and thought it might be for me at first until I also found a package of condoms.”
“Oh my God, Mac.” Shelby hugs me.
“It’s okay,” I promise her but I squeeze her back. “I mean it was one of the worst possible moments of my life at the time, but now… I honestly don’t think I give a fuck. At least it doesn’t break my heart or anything. I don’t love Beckett anymore. And I doubt he ever really loved me, so I dodged a bullet.”