OUTSIDE THE ARENA, Donna promises to text Jamie when she gets home as she and her friend pile into the Uber, and we follow the team out to the Filthy Flamingo.
Jordan gives us a flat look as we pile in. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks Hayden.
“Hey, sunshine,” he says, laughing, grabbing her in a big hug. “We won tonight.”
She elbows him in the gut, and he pretends it hurts. “I don’t care.” She sees me and gives me a small smile and a nod. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I gesture at the hockey players as they take up the back half of the narrow bar. “Is this okay?”
She snorts. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m used to these assholes.”
Chairs and tables scrape as the guys rearrange them so we can all sit together. At the back of the bar, a guy stands in front of a mic, tuning his guitar. He looks up and winks at Jordan.
“You hired live entertainment?” I smile wide at her. She rolls her eyes. “No, that’s just Chris.”
Chris waves at us. “I’m her boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she says, loud enough for Chris and everyone between the two of them to overhear. “We just have sex.”
A laugh slips out of me. “Nice.”
Maybe I can get to the place where I can have casual sex with a guy I don’t care about.
Jamie’s hand lands on my lower back, and he leads me to a seat in one of the booths before slipping in beside me. His arm comes over the top of
the booth, his thigh presses against mine, and his scent surrounds me. His position around me feels possessive, like I’m his.
I think about the other night, how he remembers me from high school. How he said I was gorgeous. My throat feels tight. I can’t stop thinking about the intense way he looked when he said it.
A tiny shred inside me wonders if Jamie’s attracted to me. I’ve been the quiet, invisible girl in the background for so long that it feels unfathomable. Hayden slides into the other side of the booth, along with Alexei, a gruff defenseman in his mid-thirties who doesn’t say much. His nose is crooked like it’s been broken before, but like all these guys, he’s handsome, just in a
rougher way.
“Miller gave us a run for our money tonight, huh?” Hayden asks, and Alexei grunts his agreement.
To my surprise, Rory also remembered me from high school. He made me show him pictures of Daisy, so I showed him one of Daisy, Hazel, and me the day we went hiking in North Van, and he studied it with interest. He only started acting like an asshole when Jamie showed up.
Jordan drops off our drinks, and I study Jamie, who studies me right back over his beer.
I know Rory isn’t interested in me that way. I only got platonic vibes from our conversation, but he was trying to piss off Jamie.
The image of Jamie in the upstairs box, jaw clenched tight and jealousy flashing through his eyes, makes me smile up at him. I want to see how this thing with Rory and Jamie plays out. I wonder if they’ll ever be friends again.
“Something funny, songbird?” His voice is a low murmur, and a shiver runs down my back.
I smile wider. “Nope.”
His eyes dance, and even though his mouth is in a flat line, his gaze is warm and amused. “Good. Keep it that way.”
I chuckle. In my jacket pocket, my phone buzzes. I pull it out and read the text from my friend Alissa, who I worked with on the tour.
Girl. We’re gonna be in Vancouver next week. Last stop on the tour before the break!
My stomach sinks. The faces of everyone from the tour roll through my head, and shame rises in me. With a close-knit group of people who work
insane hours, side by side, secrets don’t exist. No one from the tour texted me after I mysteriously didn’t show up at the next stop, and I have no doubt everyone knows exactly what happened.
I frown at my phone. I hate being reminded of my old life. My phone buzzes again.
There’s a wrap party on Tuesday night, and your name is on the list!
Jenna said she hasn’t gotten your RSVP yet.
I stare at her message in disbelief. No fucking way am I going to a wrap party with everyone. How fucking shameful would that be? I can’t. I won’t.
I read her text again, frowning. I never got an invite. I open my email and scroll through the unread messages.
There it is. Oh god. The email went out to everyone on the tour, and Jenna always forgets to blind carbon copy people, so everyone can see my email on the list. Everyone knows I’ve been invited.
Jamie brushes my arm. “What’s going on?” “Nothing.” I blink, tucking my phone away.
He stares at me in that way that makes my stomach flutter. “Tell me.” “Bossy.”
“Mhm.” The corner of his mouth slants, and I can feel my own smile starting.
On the small stage at the back of the bar, the guy starts playing guitar and singing. The players mostly ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I take a long sip of my drink and hum with appreciation because Jordan makes good whiskey sours. I lick the foam off my top lip, and Jamie’s gaze drops to my mouth. His eyebrows slide together in a focused frown.
“Are you going to tell me why you look like you saw a ghost?” he asks in a low voice. Around us, the players are talking, laughing, and horsing around, but Jamie doesn’t even notice.
I chew my lip, taking in his handsome face. His cheekbones are still flushed from his game, and he watches me with patience and curiosity. Something in his deep green eyes makes me want to tell him things.
“There’s a wrap party for the tour next week.”
His gaze pins me, his jaw tightening. “The tour you got fired from?”
I laugh without humor. “I mean, when you put it that way, I sound stellar.”
“Pippa.”
“I know, I know.” I sigh, take another sip of my drink, and there are his eyes on my mouth again. Heat pools low in my stomach. His hand brushes my arm again, scattering goosebumps along my skin.
I wish I didn’t have this reaction around him. It’s getting harder to hide. “Everyone saw that I was invited,” I tell him, blowing out a long breath.
“If I don’t go, it’s like…” “Defeat.”
My gaze rises to his. “Exactly. Like I’m hiding from them.” My throat feels tight, and I shake my head. “A part of me wants to hide and forget them all. But there’s this other part of me that feels like—” I swallow. My pulse is beating harder. “Like, fuck him, you know? Fuck him for firing me and picking someone new.” My stomach churns, and I roll my eyes at myself. “Sorry.”
“Don’t.” His tone is sharp. “Don’t apologize.” He takes a drink of his beer. “You should go.”
I snort, giving him a flat look. “I’m sure that’ll go great. If I show up looking super hot, they’ll think I’m trying to get him back, but if I show up looking like garbage, it’ll seem like I’m falling apart without him. Besides, he’ll probably be making out with his new muse all night.”
I down the rest of my drink. I don’t want to think about this anymore.
On the stage, the guy finishes his third song before setting his guitar down. “I’m going to take a quick break, folks.”
Jamie’s thumb taps my arm, and he tips his chin at the stage. “Your turn.”
My smile is indulgent. “Right. Very funny.”
“I’m serious.” His gaze bores into mine, filled with determination. “What did I tell you about getting back on the ice?”
The authority in his deep voice makes my face heat.
“Jamie.” My mouth is quirking into a rueful grin. “This isn’t getting back on the ice. I haven’t performed on stage since high school.”
“I remember.”
Awareness shimmers through me, along with… something sparking in my stomach. I wish I could see inside his head.
He pins me with his gaze. “I know you can do it.”
The way he looks down at me, the certainty in his voice, it makes my insides warm.
Hayden turns back to us from where he was talking with the booth behind him. “Pippa, are you a singer?”
I roll my eyes. “Not really.”
“Yes,” Jamie cuts in. “She sings and plays guitar, and she’s good.”
Hayden leans his chin on his fist, looking at me like it’s Christmas Eve and I’m Santa. “Pippa.”
“No.” I stare at Jamie. “Thanks a lot.”
Hayden gathers the guys’ attention. “Pippa’s going to sing for us.” He starts clapping.
They all react at once, clapping and hollering and moving chairs out of the way for me, but I stay seated. I glare at Hayden, but I can’t be mad at him. My heart is racing but I’m laughing.
“Tell you what, songbird.” Jamie’s mouth brushes my ear, and there’s that low tug in my belly again. “If you sing a song up there, I’ll go with you to your wrap party. We’ll show your asshole ex who came out on top.”
I meet his gaze, and electricity pulls between us like a cord. I picture walking into the party with Jamie’s arm around me, maybe his mouth brushing my ear the way it did a second ago.
I picture the look on Zach’s face—disbelief, shock, and jealousy. I like that idea.
“Deal.”
