Owen looks at Ty and says, “I thought it was the Nile?” and Ty slaps his head.
“I’m not in denial,” I protest. “I’m taking part in mandated outreach.”
“Right. Outreach you did not want to do a few hours ago, but now that you’re back from the store, all of a sudden you seem to be breezier than a makeup advertisement.” Campbell shakes his head. “Please just stay focused. New team that’s headed to the playoffs and all that. You know.”
“Trust me,” I say, grabbing his arm. “That’s one thing I won’t ever let you down about.”
Liam drops onto the couch next to Owen, looking way too entertained. “It is cool that the town wants to do this community outreach program, but the timing of it is just so cruddy.”
“If anyone can handle juggling a part-time job while headed for playoffs with an inaugural team,” Campbell says with a snicker, “it’s gonna be Sawyer.”
I lean against the counter, take a drink, and stare out at the river through the massive windows. The sun’s setting, turning the water gold and orange, boats cutting white lines across the surface.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ll show up, do my hours, and then I’ll be back. Hopefully, whatever they have me doing helps her and her shop, but the real reason I’m there is that it helps get me out of the penalty box with the coach and the owners.”
Campbell raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. He knows when to let things breathe.
My phone buzzes. It’s our team group chat, someone posting a meme about our last game. The Dominion’s first season in the NHL and we’re on a roll. The entire city’s losing its mind. I know the feeling.
I scroll past the chat, my thumb hovering over a different conversation. The one that never answers back.
“Hey. You see Sienna’s engaged?” Owen asks, clearly reading over my shoulder because the man has no sense of personal space. When I shake my head no, he grabs my phone, taps to open an app, and then hands it to me.
I glance at my screen. Sure enough, Instagram’s algorithm has helpfully surfaced my ex-girlfriend’s face—Sienna Hart, pop star, seventy million followers, currently draped over some guy in what looks like a nightclub in LA. Her ring is the size of a small planet.
And I feel…nothing.
“Good for her,” I say, and I mean it.
“Fast though, right?” Owen whistles. “You guys broke up, what, six weeks ago?”
“Two months.”
Owen chokes on a laugh. “Still.”
I shrug. We dated for eight or nine months, broke up three times, got back together twice. The whole thing felt like trying to hold onto smoke. Beautiful, sure, but gone the second you tried to actually grab it. When I think back and reflect on that time with her, she was exactly what I’d been looking for at the time. Which is probably why it didn’t work.
“You okay?” Campbell asks quietly.
“Yeah.” I lock my phone, set it face-down on the granite. “Honestly? I think I always knew it wasn’t real.”
Campbell watches me with an assessing look that sees too much. I’m about to make a joke or point out the window simply to get him to take his eyes off me when Owen mercifully changes the subject altogether. Bless him.
“First year in the NHL and bam! We’re looking at the playoffs. Never thought I’d see it this fast.”
They dissolve back into hockey talk—matchups, strategies, who’s playing or who is out with injury, whether our goalie can steal a series. I let it wash over me, comfortable and familiar.
My phone buzzes again. I glance down, expecting more team chat nonsense.
Instead, it’s an email.
From: Alexandria City Outreach Program
To: Sawyer Stockton
Subject: Community Partnership Schedule
Dear Sawyer,
