“Shouldn’t you be at practice?” I ask.
“Shouldn’t you?” he retorts.
“Leaving now, actually.”
“After you, then,” he says, motioning for me to walk ahead of him. I can’t just leave it out, but I can’t be like, “Hold on. I left out the sex toy that is likely going to give me a stroke one day,” and then casually walk back into my room.
I opt to just get home first so that no one finds it and walk ahead of Elijah to go out to my car. When I get to the living room, I see that Jovian is also still here.
Fuck.
I walked through this house with my blanket and left that sex toy out on my bed. What if they saw it? I could have sworn everyone was gone. I say nothing as I walk outside and go to my car. I realize they haven’t left because I am blocking one of the trucks in. When I shut my door, I make eye contact with Jovi as he gets to the driver’s side door. He winks at me, and I know he saw it.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Four
Arianna
“Come on, guys. Areyou fucking kidding me?” Dom shouts.
“How are you settling in?” Ray asks as we stand at the entrance to the rink.
“Good. A few of the guys forcefully helped me unpack.” I laugh.
“That’s good. They’re good guys,” he says, and I laugh dryly.
“Uh oh. Which one is it?” he asks. “Is someone giving you a hard time?”
“Eli and Jovi aren’t my biggest fans,” I say. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I smile.
“Alright. Meeting. Everyone on the ice,” Dom calls out. I step out of the way, and everyone goes out, but I stay where I am. “Ray. Ari. That means you, too.”
“No,” I say quietly, looking at Ray. “I can’t. I’m sorry. No.”
“Hey. Hey. Hey,” Ray says when I back up.
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“I am right here with you. Okay?” Ray says, offering me his hand. “I swear to God, I will not leave your side. Okay?”
“Ray,” I say tearfully.
“You told me to push you, so I am pushing,” he says. “You busted your ass to be here, so we are doing this. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, wiping a tear from my cheek. I walk to the edge of the rink, and Dom comes over.
“You okay?” Dom asks.
“She...” Ray starts to say.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I have a death grip on Ray’s hand as we step onto the ice.
“There ya go. You did it. Baby steps, remember?” Ray says quietly. That’s what he and Mom used to say to me every day for the last six months. Every single time I would want to give up, or when I’d be in tears, they would remind me to focus on little goals.
