“What can I get you, Bode?”
“Just a water.” I pull out my wallet and drop a twenty into the tip jar.
“Hey there.”
I drop my eyes to the brunette standing next to me. “Hi.”
“Bode, right?”
“Yeah.”
Based on how she’s looking at me, she knows exactly who I am.
“You want to get out of here? Go somewhere a bit quieter?”
“Can’t. Sorry.”
Had this been before Caleb came into my life, I might have taken her up on her offer. I am a completely different person than who I was before. I like who I am now. I feel more settled. More at peace.
Who would have thought?
“What, so you’re too good for me, but not for her?” she sneers.
“I’m sorry, what?”
What in the world is this woman talking about?
“You can date some rando, but now you have standards? She’s not even pretty. Bet she doesn’t know how to get you off.”
I take a deep breath before I go off on this woman. I’ve interacted with her for all of ten seconds. The last thing I need is to be in the press for being a jackass. Even if she crossed the line into classless conversation.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
She calls out after me, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying over the noise.
I make a point to never search for myself online. I don’t want to know what the outside world is saying about me.
But this? This I have to know. Especially if it affects Stevie.
I pull up the browser on the phone and type my name in the search bar.
There’s a grainy photo of Stevie and me at the laser tag place. Thank God it’s not from when we were apple picking. I don’t know what I would do if Caleb’s face was out there for the world to see.
Looking at the website—hockeybunnies.com—I can at least rest easy that it’s not on the main news channels. Only some blog.
“You okay?” Marcus asks when I walk back into the room.
“I’m good.” I drop some money onto the table for our drinks. “Listen, Gran called and Caleb is getting fussy, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
The lie slips out easily as I wave goodbye. After the encounter with that woman, I’m out of sorts, and now, all I want to do is get home to Stevie.
Thankfully, most of the game traffic has cleared out and it makes for a quick drive. It gives me just enough time to sort through my thoughts before I get home. I don’t want to worry Stevie about this when there’s nothing to worry about.
“Oh, well, if it isn’t Mr. Playmaker himself.” Stevie is waiting for me on the couch. I breathe a sigh of relief. Who knew one look at someone would settle all the intrusive thoughts going on inside?
“Where’s Gran? I thought she was watching Caleb tonight?” I ignore her comment.Fucking nickname.
“She went to bed. I told her I’d wait up for the player of the game.”
