“I kept thinking, why not? Why not us?” she says. “You’re one of the best, Keke.”
“That means a lot coming from you,” I genuinely say.
“We deserve this,” she tells me. “Instead of sitting back and waiting, I think we should try to make our own magic.”
I squeeze her one more time before sliding back to my side of the booth. Our food arrives, and we dig in.
“Hey,” she says between bites. “Has Damien tried to contact you or anything since that night?”
I frown. “No. Thankfully. I’m hoping he leaves me alone.”
“I saw the photos of you two. It was like he was setting that up to piss off Patterson,” she says. “I dunno; it felt like a message for him. Damien and Jamie are actually friends.”
I don’t know what to say. “You’re right. With the game on Friday, I’m sure he’s trying to aggravate him. Especially after all those interviews Damien has been giving, talking shit. But this is how these hockey rivalries work. They look for any cheap opportunity to mess with each other.”
She shakes her head. “Proof that men are only good for one thing.”
I burst into laughter. “And some aren’t even good at that.”
“Speaking of,” she says, “are you sitting with me for the Angels versus Cobras game or sitting with your dad?”
“I planned to watch the game with you,” I confirm.
“AndJamie,” she says.
“Of course,” I say, smiling while my mind races.
Jameson being at the game means we’ll have to perform. We’ll be in the family section, and he’ll have to play the role of doting boyfriend. It’s really the last thing Patterson needs while having to deal with Damien circling him like a shark on the ice.
“Yeah, I’m trying to find a date so I won’t be third-wheeling you two lovebirds,” Addison continues. “Try not to be too gross about it.”
“Excuse me, I am not into PDA.”
“Please. Jamie won’t be able to keep his hands off of you. I know how you used to be.” She laughs.
I look down at my pancakes and pour more syrup on top. “It should be a really good game,” I manage.
Addison doesn’t notice how I change the subject. “It’ll be fun. We’ll get overpriced beer and scream at the refs, just like we used to do in our twenties.”
“Without getting black-out drunk though,” I tell her. “My father would fucking kill me.”
She chuckles. “Right. We’ll limit it.”
When the check comes, she snatches it up. Before we leave, we give each other a tight hug.
“Thank you for being my bestie.”
“Of course,” I tell her. “We should do this again soon.”
“I’m always down,” she says. “Tell my brother I said hi.”
“I will.”
The cab ride home takes forever. I watch the city slide past the window and think about Friday. About Jameson flying in and how we all need to get on the same page beforehand. We need a game plan, or this whole thing could blow up in our faces. But maybe if Jamie is there, Damien will be confused by the entire situation. It could help.
I’m smiling when I unlock my door because I know he’s still here. I can picture him sprawled across my bed, exactly where I left him. But when I step inside, the apartment is quiet.
He’s not on the couch or in the kitchen. The bedroom door is open.
