My legs are still unsteady by the time I leave the arena.
Damn Oliver for pulling me into the equipment room and touching me until I came apart and pretty much forgot my own name. And then he’d just sauntered out the door like it was nothing.
I should hate him.
But the truth is, I don’t.
What I actually hate is the way my body hums with the memory of him.
I shove those disturbing thoughts aside before they can take root and do permanent damage.
Lakeshore Sweets is only a few blocks from the rink, and right now I need carbs, caffeine, and an intervention before I make another mistake.
The bell above the door jingles as I step inside. This place has always been my reset button. Behind the counter, Callie lines up macarons with surgeon-level precision while Sloane finishes up with a customer. Lilah waves from the corner booth, one hand smoothing over her tiny baby bump in a gesture that’s as protective as it is automatic. She glows like bottled-up sunlight.
I’m happy for her.
She deserves every bit of the joy she’s found.
I slide into the seat beside her and do my best to pretend I’m not falling apart inside. A minute later, Callie and Sloane join us, balancing cups and a plate of baked treats that smell like absolute heaven.
Once everyone is seated, they turn their attention to me. When I don’t immediately blurt out what’s going on, Sloane tips her head, curiosity filling her eyes.
Callie nudges a buttery croissant my way. “All right. Talk.”
Lilah’s hand finds mine. “What happened? We’re dying to know what this is about.”
The question makes my throat constrict, and I drop my gaze, staring into my coffee as the steam fogs my vision. “I was in a meeting with Evelyn when?—”
I stop.
Just thinking his name sends a tremor down my spine.
When the hell did that start?
My three friends remain quiet, patiently waiting for me to continue.
When I’m unable to find the right words, Lilah says, “You look flushed.” She watches me over her mug. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I tug at my collar. “Just a little warm from the walk over.”
Sloane leans back, skepticism filling her expression. “It’s early November in Chicago. Try again. What happened? Did Hot Hugh finally barge in and confess his undying love for Evelyn?”
Lilah coughs, nearly spilling her tea. “OMG, that is never going to happen.”
“Please.” Sloane grins. “Those two are one argument away from a full-blown detonation. And let me tell you something—I am here for it.”
Callie props her chin on her hand. “Is that what it is? Did something happen between Hugh and Evelyn?”
“Well…” I hedge. “He did interrupt our meeting this morning.”
Sloane’s eyes gleam. “Go on, tell us more. Actually, tell us everything. And don’t you dare leave one dirty detail out.”
Lilah waves her off. “Evelyn would rather strangle that man than… well, just about anything else.”
Sloane smirks. “Oh, she’d wrap something around him, all right, but it’s not her hands.”
Lilah groans. “You’re so bad.”
