“Classic Gigi.” The words come out harder than I intend. “A few weeks after I ended things, I found out she moved to New York to be with Linden.”
The silence stretches between us.
She blinks up at me, studying my face. “So when she told you she wanted to work through things…”
“She was hedging her bets,” I finish. “In case things with Linden didn’t pan out in New York. She figured she’d keep me around as backup. I was her safety net.”
“That’s so fucked up.” Her indignant frown on my behalf is cute. “How long were you together?”
“Two years.” Two years of my life wasted on a woman who was planning her exit strategy while sleeping in my bed. The woman who then had the audacity to act like I was the asshole for refusing to forgive her.
“And now she’s back.”
My gut churns. “Now she’s back.”
I don’t tell her about Logan’s hunch aboutwhyshe’s back. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Whatever Gigi and I had, whatever Ithoughtwe had, died the moment she confessed to cheating. Before that, if I’m being truly honest.
What I have now, with Kennedy, is different. Real, even if it’s technically fake.
My lips quirk up, my mood brightening a little. “He’s never won a game against me, and then he got traded to Kansas.”
Kennedy perks up at this. I knew my petty queen would love that small bit of information. “I didn’t even know Kansas had a hockey team.”
“AHL,” I admit with a satisfied grin. “He got sent down.”
A deliciously evil laugh rolls out of her. “See? I’m not the only devious one in this relationship.”
If she realizes she forgot to add thefakepart, she doesn’t backtrack.
And I don’t comment on it.
“If I’d known about the Kansas thing,” she says with a wistful sigh, “I probably wouldn’t have done what I did.”
I freeze, caught halfway between being scared and intrigued. “What’d you do?”
“Some light stalking.” She shrugs in a way that’s anything but sheepish. “Which may have led to finding his personal email address. Which I may have potentially used to sign up for a bunch of erectile disfunction help forums.”
I stare at her for a beat. Then another. “You did what?”
She grins against her pillow, which is the least offensive shade of pink in this room. “Approximately fifteen forums… and a few newsletter subscriptions. And maybe a couple of those spam sites that sell ‘male enhancement’ pills.”
A laugh builds deep in my chest, making me feel lighter than I have in a long time.
She simply shrugs again, like this is perfectly reasonable. “I figured his inbox could suffer a little.”
“A little? Kennedy, that’s—” Another laugh works its way out or me, making it hard to finish the sentence. “That’s diabolical.”
“Thank you.” She grins, looking genuinely pleased with herself.
“How did you even find his personal email?”
“I told you. Light stalking.” She waves dismissively. “He has a public Venmo. People are shockingly careless about their digital footprint, and his email is literally his full name at Gmail. Not exactly Fort Knox–level security.”
“And you just… signed him up for stuff?”
“Not just stuff. Very specific stuff designed to be maximally annoying and embarrassing.” She leans forward, a deviously sexy smile on her lips. “I made sure to check all the boxes that say ‘yes, share my information with partners.’ So now he’s probably getting emails about low testosterone, premature ejaculation, penis pumps?—”
“Holy shit,” I say through a wheezing laugh.
