“I do,” I say. “I actually like people, in general.” Then I reconsider. “Mostpeople.”
“I can’t remember the last time Ilikeda party.”
“Means the bar is pretty low for tonight. You should come.”
He lets out a light chuckle. “Persistent.”
“Obstinate,” I volley back.
“The list of people I like is short. Careful you don’t get yourself crossed off it.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, giving him a real smile. “I’m the best thing about this island. But that does sound like my cue to leave.” I start walking backward away from him, my clipboard still in my hand. “Despite the name, the wine bar is upscale. Don’t come in your sweaty gym clothes.”
His lips quirk up, another almost smile, and he shakes his head.
“Take a shower. Trim the beard. Studies have shown women like a light beard, not a heavy one. If you care about that sort of thing.”
“Goodbye, doc.”
“Until we meet again… in a few hours.” I give him an exaggerated wink, and he shakes his head again. Why I’m pushing so hard, I’m not sure. But he hasn’t become annoyed, which only makes me more determined to push his buttons.
As I leave the arena, I can’t decide whether I truly want him to turn up at the bar tonight or not. On one hand, I do think socializing would be good for him, but on the other—Alex and my dad will think I’m capable of working miracles. The reality is that if Logan shows up later, it’ll be because he wanted to, and it’ll have nothing to do with me asking.
Chapter Eight
Sawyer
When I arrive at Wino Wine Bar, I’m relieved to realize I didn’t actually lie to Logan. Even though Ava is in charge, she must not have had enough time to make the event as over the top as normal. Or maybe my dad and Alex asked her not to. I never did listen to all the voice memos she sent.
The curved leather booths are empty while everyone mingles, and Ava hasn’t tried to overpower the color scheme of deep red, gray, and black with the blue and silver of the team. Instead, she’s let the richness and wealth that’s already inherent in the club shine through.
My siblings and their partners are mingling with the hockey players and their families, and the royals are amongst the crowd too. Which means the Advisory Council is likely to turn up here, if they haven’t already.
But I refuse to look around. Dalton and I will be in the same spaces; I’ve resigned myself to that. Not sure I’m quite comfortable with it yet, though.
Whenever anyone asks if seeing him will be awkward, or if it’ll be difficult to attend the political or charitable functions now that we’re not together, I tell them the split was amicable. There’s only one person on the island other than me and Dalton who knows what really happened.
Tamiko slings her arm around my shoulders, a drink in her other hand. “You’re easy to spot lately. Always so brightly colored.”
My dress is short, hot pink, and tule. When I pulled it out of the back of my closet today, I really wanted to be the kind of woman who wears something like this. A year ago, I wore this dress without any second thoughts. I can’t even remember the last time I made a choice with absolute certainty.
“No Logan?”
“I tried.” As I search the upper level and peer over the edge to the lower level, I do a quick headcount of everyone I recognize. “I’m amazed Ava got almost everyone to come. Players, coaches, support staff. On short notice, it’s impressive.”
“She’s persistent,” Tamiko says. “Promised an exclusive Ember Whitten handbag, and she also promised a private shopping trip at all the top brand-name stores to the WAGs if they got their significant other to show up.”
“Logan wouldn’t care about either of those. I wonder what she tried to use to get him?”
“Flexibility training,” Tamiko says, and somehow she manages to keep a straight face. “That’s what she told him. She’d give him some private flexibility training lessons.”
“She did not.” I close my eyes and stifle a laugh. “How do you know this?”
“He texted me and asked if Ava was legit or if her flexibility training was code for kinky sex.”
“He actually sent you that? I need proof.”
Tamiko takes out her phone, unlocks it, scrolls to the message chain, and passes it to me. Word for word, that’s exactly what he sent Tamiko. I read through the exchange a couple times, and a strange warmth fills my chest. It feels silly to be intrigued by a hockey player whose life and experiences are so different from mine, but that’s how I feel. Curious. Interested in a way that’s bordering on unprofessional. He’s nothing like anyone else I’ve ever dated, and maybe that’s the draw. After Dalton, every fiber of my being just wants something different.
