"You mean, aside from the fact that my entire ass is on the internet, everyone thinks I was blowing him, and he won't fix it?" I shrug, avoiding her gaze. "Maybe he's just not my type."
"The man is sex on legs, Serena. He's everyone's type."
"Exactly. He's everyone's type." I don't want to be in constant competition for someone's attention. I know what that's like. My dad cheated on my mom when I was four. They divorced, and he's been throwing other women in her face for the last twenty years just to hurt her. There's no way in hell I'm repeating that history. Hell no. I'm never falling in love or giving anyone the power to hurt me like that.
And I'm not interested in being a fuck buddy or a hookup to a professional athlete, either. Austin's reputation might survive that. Mine? Not so much. I'm alreadyskating on thin ice with my boss after those photos. And since modeling is only a sometimes kind of thing, Ineedmy job.
"From what I've heard," Peyton says, "he's not like that."
"That's even worse," I groan, burying my face behind my hands. The last thing I need is a guy like Austin falling for me.
"I say this with love, but we aren't our parents, you know. If I can find happiness, why can't you?"
"Because the odds of both of us breaking the curse are non-existent?" I retort, one brow arched.
"Coward," she says.
I shrug, willing to let the insult slide. Honestly, I'd rather be a coward than…whatever my parents are. Peyton grew up in foster care. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
But the only time my parents seemed to see me at all was when I could be used against the other. My brother was old enough to make his own decisions about where he lived, but I wasn't. If Dad wanted me for Christmas, we had to fight it out in the courts. If Mom wanted to take me on vacation, we had to fight it out in the courts. If Dad bought me a car, Mom sold it to buy me a better car.
They used me to hurt the other over and over again, not caring what I wanted or needed. With my brother focused on hockey all the time, I bore the brunt of their bullshit, and all that mattered to them was winning. They're stillthe same way. It's why I live on the opposite side of the country, as far from their wreckage as I can get.
I don't want to spend the rest of my life in the same chaos. I'm happy that Peyton found her person, and that she's happy. But maybe love isn't meant for all of us. Maybe some of us are better off alone. It's safer that way.
"I should go," she says after a minute, glancing at her phone. "I promised to meet Logan before he films this commercial. If I'm not there, God only knows what he'll do."
"He's not that bad," I say with a smile.
"Please. He's a terrorist," she says, rolling her eyes before tossing several bills on the table to cover lunch. "You just don't agree because he's your favorite goalie."
"I mean, he doesn't suck."
She laughs, hopping to her feet.
I rise with her, reaching across the table to squeeze her.
"You're coming to the next game, right?"
"Uh, duh!"
"Good." She kisses me on the cheek. "I'll see you then."
"See you then."
She turns to walk away and then pauses, glancing back at me. "Give him a chance, Serena. You deserve happiness, even if you refuse to believe it's possible."
"I'll think about it."
She shakes her head at me, frowning sadly. "No, you won't."
I don't tell her that she's wrong.
By late afternoon, I think maybe I'm losing my mind. I'm not even sure why I'm in an Uber, heading toward the stadium. I keep telling myself it's because there was a throng of paparazzi outside the office where I work when I got there after lunch, and my boss made me leave, but I'm not entirely convinced that's the truth.
I want to see Austin again, dammit all. I don't even know why, because he's the most infuriating person I've ever met. But…I want to see him.
I think Peyton's gotten into my head.
