“You’ll regret saying that.”
“I won’t,” I say, crossing my arms.
He leaves in a huff.
So much for his protein powder obsession being his most annoying trait.
Heis his most annoying trait.
Later that night, I’m equal parts enraged and hurt when out with my friend Jules at Gin Joint, drowning my break-up sorrows while also toasting good riddance to my ex.
“Let’s drink to the next guy being hotter, richer, smarter,nicer,and better in bed,” Jules says, lifting her champagne.
I clink my flute to hers. “To upgrades.”
“To upgrades.”
I swallow some of the bubbly, and when Jules sets her glass down, her phone buzzes. She grabs it, then clicks on what looks like a text. She takes a few seconds to read it, her face turningwhite. “Camden,” she says in a heavy tone that tells me I’m not going to like what she’s looking at.
“Yes?” I ask, warily.
When she raises her face, she says, “Ethan just sent this to me.”
He’s a good friend of ours who always knows things first.
Worry crawls up my spine as Jules spins her phone around and taps a video of…my stomach plummets. It’s Erik’s lifestyle interview. He must have done it a little after he left my place. I can’t hear it above the music in the lounge, but I don’t need to. I can read the captions.
“And how are things going with Camden?” the perky interviewer asks, using only my first name, since that’s what I go by professionally. She flashes her bright smile, her blonde bob shining under the stage lights. “You and the rising pop star have been a thing for a couple months now. Will we see you at the opening of Goddess next month?”
“Nah. That little music club that caters to women musicians? Please. Like anyone wants that. She’llregrethaving opened it.”
At first, I’m angry. Then later, as I’m walking home, I pass Doctor Insomnia’s Tea and Coffee Emporium. A memory flashes before me. I go there most mornings. I went there most mornings in the spring, too, and there was a guy there who looked familiar at the time. He had magazine model good looks—the kind of cheekbones that were carved, the kind of jawline that was chiseled, the kind of scruff that made you think dirty thoughts.
The type of body that made it clear he probably played pro sports.
And the most interesting brown eyes I’d ever seen. Warm, kind, and soulful.
Some days, he’d look my way as he waited for his order—always an English Breakfast.
But nothing happened, and when spring rolled into summer, he was gone. Didn’t matter much anyway since I’d just met Erik and we’d started dating then.
As I flash back on the coffee shop guy, though, the memory fills all the way in. I’m pretty sure I know why he felt familiar—I’m pretty sure the coffee shop guy is a hockey player too.
But on the city’sotherteam. The team that won the Cup last season. The New York Ice Kings.
The guy Erik’s obsessed with.
A wicked smile forms on my lips.
I know how to exact my revenge. When the season starts, I’ll get Erik Karlsson’s biggest rival to ask me out on a date.
2
YOUR ENGLISH FRIEND
Shaw
One month later
