I groan. “You’d put us both in jail before dessert.”
They both turn on me with identical grins, and I know I’ve lost before I’ve even tried.
Betty pats Zoe’s cheek fondly. “Look after my sparkly creature. She forgets she’s tougher than she thinks.”
Zoe’s eyes slide to mine with momentary concern, but then she turns back to Betty with a wink. “Don’t worry. I bite.”
“Good girl. Have fun”—Betty blows us both a kiss as she shuffles back across her lawn—“and call me if you need bail money!”
I groan into my hands as Zoe steers me toward her car.
“I regret introducing you two.”
“You love it,” Zoe sing-songs. “Now get in. Who do I have to kill?”
***
Zoe parks us at a little café tucked off Colfax, the kind with mismatched mugs and fairy lights strung in the window. The kind of place I should feel cozy in, except my heart’s been in freefall since we left the house.
She orders for both of us, sliding me a chai and herself a triple espresso before flopping into the chair opposite mine. Her nails tap out a rhythm on the table.
“All right, Lu,” she says, eyes sharp despite the grin. “Spill. Who do I have to murder?”
I laugh weakly, the sound catching in my throat. “It’s not the PTA. Not exactly. Well, it is, but—”
“Please. Those bitches don’t deserve this level of drama. This is about a man, isn’t it?”
My fingers knot in my sleeve. I should back out, should say nothing. But Zoe’s stare is pinning me in place, and the truth has been clawing at my ribs for weeks.
“It’s Logan,” I blurt. My voice is too high, too shaky. “I’m with Logan. Eli’s—my—Logan.”
For a beat, there’s only silence. Then she gasps so loud the table next to us jumps.
“Shut. Up.” Her chair screeches back as she half-stands. “Shut. The actual. Fuck. Up.”
“Sit down!” I hiss, laughing helplessly as panic and relief war in my chest. “Zoe, people are looking!”
“Let them look!” she stage-whispers. “You’re banging Pookie Miller.Pookie!”
My face burns hotter. “Do not call him that—”
“Oh, honey, I’m calling him that forever. God, this is better than porn. How long? Where? When?”
I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my god!”
“No, no, no, don’t you dare try to downplay this!” She leans halfway across the table. “You’ve been sneaking around with Pookie Miller this whole time, and you didn’tsay anything?”
“Zoe.” My voice cracks into a laugh that feels half-hysterical, half-relieved. “Stop!”
“Wait—Hutchy.Reid Hutchisonknows, doesn’t he? That motherfucker. I asked him after Halloween, and he looked me dead in the eye and said nothing. The man’s a stone wall of loyalty and secrets.”
I groan with a nod. “He figured it out and asked Logan straight up, and no one can lie to Hutchy.”
“No one,” Zoe agrees fervently. “God, I hate how right you are. Okay, so Reid knows, I know, but Tamara doesn’t, and Eli doesn’t… what’s your plan here?”
“I don’t have one.” My hands drop uselessly to the table. “Tamara would be stuck lying for me if she knew, and I don’t want to burden her with that, and Eli—he’ll never forgive me. Or him. And then there’s the team. If this blows up, it’s not just us, it’s Logan’s season. I don’t want to be the reason anything gets screwed up.”
Zoe’s expression softens, though the fire in her eyes doesn’t dim. “Lu, listen to me. One, that boy is so obviously obsessed with you, I’m shocked the rest of the team hasn’t clocked it. Two, your brother’s temper doesn’t get to dictate your happiness. And three”—she smirks, leaning back—“Logan would bulldoze the entire NHL before he let anyone pin this on you.”
