Kayla shrugs, feigning innocence. “Just pointing out the perks of private practice in case you want to make a change when your contract is up.”
“Noted.” God knows I have zero job security at the moment.
And it’s not like you have anything tying you to Atlanta.
Exactly. I can pick up and move at any time. No spouse, no mortgage, nothing.
Except Knox. My father. And the team.
I shove the sushi into my mouth. We aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about Kayla.
“I like the challenge of working with athletes from so many sports. I’m coaching one right now who plays rugby. Talk about a brutal sport.” She shivers and takes a dainty sip of her French 75. “There’s another coach I’ve been spending time with,” she says, her cheeks growing red, “and we’re getting pretty close.”
I set my chopsticks down because when has Kayla ever blushed when talking about a coworker? Or, heck, even a romantic partner?
“How close?” Lexie asks, cocking her head. “Like, swapping book recs close or HR violation close?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like— We haven’t put a label on it. We’re keeping things casual for now.” Kayla laughs. “Last weekend we went to an AHL game and let’s just say, I can see the appeal, Ava.”
Now it’s my turn to blush, but Lexie’s not so easily distracted.
“Pics? And don’t even say you didn’t take any. We know you take pictures everywhere you go.”
Kayla huffs, but she’s all smiles as she pulls up her photo stream.
She settles on a picture of herself and another woman standing in front of the ice, grinning at the camera. Her coworker is tall and blonde, Kayla’s complete opposite in every way except for their matching smiles.
“Aww, you guys look so cute together! What’s her name? When do we get to meet her?”
“What she said,” Lexie echoes.
Kayla slips her phone back into her bag. “Her name is Julie and, I told you, it’s not that serious.”
She’s full of crap. Kayla has never shown off pictures of a casual hookup in her life.
Lexie and I lock gazes across the table. “The lady doth protest too much,” she says, a devilish grin curving her lips.
Kayla makes a show of rolling her eyes, and I’m reminded of Knox’s admission and the fact that he carried our pictures in his wallet for five years.
Things have a way of working themselves out over time.
I’m not sure things between Knox and I have exactly worked out. Most days it feels like the universe is working against us, but I’d rather have him in secret than not have him at all.
I push my plate away. “Hey, have you guys heard of the good girl trap?”
They shake their heads, and I quickly explain what I’ve learned from the book Emerson lent me.
Lexie nods slowly. “That actually makes a lot of sense. It’s no secret that girls and boys are socialized differently, even though they shouldn’t be.”
“Right?” Kayla says, brows pulled low. “It’s everywhere you look, from sex to the boardroom. The rules for us are always different.” She laughs. “Which is probably why I never follow them.”
“Fuck the rules,” Lexie says, raising her glass.
I laugh, the sound bursting from my mouth. Isn’t that exactly what Emerson said?
It’s no wonder we’ve become such fast friends.
She reminds me of the other women in my life. The ones I admire for forging their own paths, for being forthright and honest, no matter the circumstances. For taking up space and saying screw the patriarchy and the self-policing women who’ve been taught to abide by its rules.