The only notification that mattered would be when her name flashed across my screen.
But every time my phone went off, I checked … just in case.
Like the universe could read my mind, my phone lit up once again, and instead of it being Avery, Jayson was on the other end. For whatever reason, my insides screamed for me to answer the call this time after ignoring all the others.
“Jayson, what’s up, man?” I masked my shitty mood as I answered his call.
“Cut the shit, dude. Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped back.
“Whoa, Jay. I’m sorry, okay? It’s been insanely busy over here. I’d been meaning to return your call. I was just a little backed up. Work and life—you know how it goes,” I answered somewhat honestly. “Everything okay?” I added.
“Yeah. Good over here. But what’s up with you? And don’t even think about lying to me. We don’t ever go more than two days without talking—even when I’m deep into playoff season—and it’s beena month, man.”
“Wow, I’m flattered. You’re like a clingy girlfriend.” I chuckled sarcastically.
“You’re my best friend, you fuck. Now spill, or I’ll waltz into your office and make a huge scene.”
Jayson didn’t give a fuck. He wouldn’t just walk in here and annoy the shit out of me; he’d bother the whole office in the process. And my office was definitely not the place to air my dirty laundry to my best friend with the risk of someone overhearing.
I sucked in a deep breath, and as I ran my hands down my face, my sigh came out as a strangled moan.
“I don’t know where to start,” I groaned in defeat.
“It’s that big?”
“Huge.”
“Like getting traded to the Sharks, bad?”
“Worse.”
“Going your whole life never shaking the hand of Wayne Gretzky?”
Christ. Why was he my best friend again?
On any other day, his idiocy would make me laugh. Right now, it was just bugging the shit out of me.
“No, man. This is like a career-ending injury bad. Imagine you hadn’t won a cup yet, and you’re having the best season of your life. You’re about to smash all your records and then … it happens. One small mistake on the ice. A freak accident. Career over.” I painted the picture for him in a way only he could understand.
Since Jayson had a one-track mind on hockey, and hockey only, apparently, it was the only way to compare what I was going through. So, in order for him to understand, I had to dial up the dramatics.
“Well, fuck, man. Need a drink?”
Screw it.
I guess it was time to put this mess on display, and it might as well be with Jayson. He may not understand, but he was a damn good listener, and apparently pushy enough to make me spill it all.
“Meet me at the bar next door to my place in thirty.”
“Let me get this straight…” Jayson held up a finger, took a swig of his beer, and smacked his lips at the aftertaste. “Jackson is Avery’s ex-boyfriend, and the two of you never put the pieces together?”
“Yup. Pretty much.” I nodded, feeling like a complete moron.
“Wow … You weren’t joking. Thatiscareer-ending injury, bad.I mean, Jesus, you guys have fucked the same pussy. How do you get over that?”
The second the words left his mouth, I smacked him upside the head. My eyes narrowed, glaring at him for even thinking that would be the one thing I’d want to hear at a time like this.
“What the fuck, man?” He clutched the back of his head.
