“Go shower…Cowboy.” She’s mocking my hockey nickname, but the way she says it sounds almost flirtatious, and the look she gives me as she walks away twists my insides.
Good thing we’re not alone, because if we were, I think I would have grabbed her hand and yanked her against me. And then I would kiss her until she couldn’t talk for a long, long time. But those thoughts can only live in my head.
When I return to the main living area, freshly showered and wondering exactly what Bree promised my nana in exchange for her cookie recipe, everyone else has arrived. My first instinct is to find Bree and check if she’s enjoying herself because she tends to play hostess while forgetting to enjoy herself.
That’s not what this night is about. I want her to connect with the other wives and girlfriends—WAGs—so she’ll have friends here—something she needs more now than ever.
The tension in my shoulders eases when I see Mia, Sophie, and Lily chatting with Bree in the kitchen. And she’s smiling. Good sign. I had a feeling she’d like them, and I knew they’d like Bree—she’s amazing. They already seem like friends.
How Ethan, Luke, and Payton landed such incredible women, I’ll never know, but it’s inspiring and depressing all at once. I want what they have, but I don’t see how that’s possible until I let go of these feelings for Bree.
Not that I’m trying to hold on to them—believe me, I’ve tried to let go. But I find myself even more drawn to her, even after a year of little to no contact, which doesn’t help.
I take the seat near the couch where Luke’s sitting with his love-consumed eyes pinned on Sophie. That deep ache hits me square in the chest again as I stare at Bree. My thoughts take a wayward direction, imagining what this same scenario would feel like if she were my girlfriend, hanging out with the other WAGs.
Luke clears his throat, leans toward me, and whispers, “Check your face, man.”
Ethan, who’s sitting next to him, nods his agreement. Elias and Mathéo sit huddled together on the floor with Mason, watching an NHL game, so they’re oblivious.
Payton holds out a beer to me. “I recognize that look.”
Glancing up at him, I take the proffered drink and then take a long pull. The fizz goes down my throat and lodges there.
“Thanks,” I grunt.
“How’s the groin?” He lifts his brows.
I’d have welcomed the change of subject if it had been anything else, but I push a grin I don’t feel onto my face. There. All fixed. “Getting better every day.”
Luke and Pay exchanged glances.
I wave my half-empty beer between them. “What’s that about?”
“Just concerned about you, man.” Luke sets his nearly full bottle on the shell-shaped coaster sitting on the coffee table.
“I’m fine,” I spit out. The last thing I need is these two acting like helicopter parents.
After a surreptitious glance toward the women, Payton sits on the arm of the couch. “Has Bree said anything to you?”
“About what?”
Luke’s turn to chime in. “What happened in Texas?”
I shake my head. “Just that she went independent, but it didn’t work out.”
Again, they share this look like they know something but don’t want to risk upsetting me.
A sigh mixed with a growl slips out of my mouth. “Stop pussy-footing around and spit it out already.”
Luke scratches the side of his head. “Sophie did a little digging.”
Judging by his demeanor, I’m not going to like this. I down the rest of my beer. “Why?”
He shrugs. “I shared your concerns over what happened to Bree, so she called a friend who does the coverage for the Texas Stars.”
I about launch out of my chair. “I told you not to tell Sophie about my?—”
He holds his hand out toward me. “Relax, man. I didn’t say anything about that. Just that Bree’s your best friend, and you’re worried about her.”
