“I’m moved by the depth of your commitment,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his words like blood from a fresh wound. Probably the one in the center of my chest. “But don’t worry. I’ll manage. Josh was a competitive figure skater as a kid. I’ll have him show me some moves.”
“I’ll bet he will,” I mutter before I can stop myself. Only the moves I’m thinking of aren’t ones you can do on the ice. Not comfortably, at least.
“Stop.” Kolby holds a hand up, palm out, like he’s a crossing guard. “You can’t say stuff like that. You lost that right when you let your friend trash talk me. What I do or don’t do with Josh is none of your business.”
I don’t say anything to that, just nod. Once again, he’s one gazillion percent correct. But that he’s right—and that it’s my own damn fault he’s even considering doing anything with Josh—don’t make it any less painful.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I really should get back to my date. Josh is probably wondering what’s taking me so long.”
Kolby doesn’t wait for me to respond, pushing off the wall and blowing past me in his rush to return to his—ugh—date. I guess he’s forgotten why he came back here in the first place. Or maybe he’s so anxious to get away from me he’s willing to hold it for a little longer.
I’m not ready to face the crowd in the dining area, so I head into the bathroom to pull myself together and splash some water on my face. It doesn’t help. I’m not sure anything will at this point.
I stall as long as I can—taking my sweet time patting my face dry, washing my hands, and finger combing my hair. The couple of guys who come in to drain the weasel give me strange looks as I stand at the sink staring at my hangdog reflection in the mirror, but they leave without saying anything.
After a few minutes, I figure I’ve got no choice but to go out there. I can’t spend all night in the damn bathroom. No matter how much I want to.
The table where Kolby and Josh were sitting is empty—I don’t even want to think about where they are or what they’re doing—but most of the team’s still here. Of course, it’s too much to expect that I could make it out the door without one of them stopping me. Fortunately, it’s Lex, who’s not only my line mate but my closest friend on the team. Which makes him the guy I’m most comfortable letting my guard down with.
Good thing, because after the night I’ve had, I don’t think I can keep it together much longer.
“I thought you left ages ago,” he says.
“That was the plan. But shit happened.”
“Everything okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder and peers straight into my eyes, probably red-rimmed and bloodshot from stress and exhaustion. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks. And no,” I admit, scrubbing a hand over my jaw. It’s rough with late-night stubble. “Everything’s not okay.”
“Girl trouble?”
This is it. My chance to come clean. Or, more accurately, come out.
No one within hearing distance is paying any attention to us, but I lower my voice anyway. “More like guy trouble. I’m bi.”
To his credit, Lex doesn’t even blink. The hand on my shoulder gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Is it the guy from your improv class who we saw on the way out of the arena? The one Slags was giving you shit about?”
I nod.
“Wanna talk about it?”
I let out a breath I was barely aware I was holding. “Yeah, I think I do.”
A girl who’s definitely had a few too many stumbles and bumps into Lex, almost spilling the beer in his hand. He finishes it off and deposits the empty glass on a nearby table. “Let’s head back to the hockey house. We’ll have more privacy there.”
“Aren’t you with your girlfriend?” No one’s ever accused me of being a cock blocker, and I’m not going to start now.
He glances over his shoulder at table seventeen, where Kaitlyn is laughing a little too loudly at something someone just said. Probably Maggie from the way the two of them are cackling away together. “I think she’s had enough fun for one night. She can sleep it off in my room. She’ll probably crash the second her head hits the pillow.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” I zip my hockey jacket and shove my hands in the pockets. “I’m heading out. For real this time. Knock on my door when Kaitlyn’s sacked out.”
She must have been more wasted than either of us realized, because it’s almost one in the morning when the knock finally comes.
“Dude,” Lex whispers through the crack in the door. “You still awake?”
“Yeah.” It’s not like sleep is an option. I’m too wound up from the game and fucked up from the whole mess with Kolby. I turn off the episode ofUmbrella AcademyI’m not watching, close my laptop, and sit up on my bed. “Come on in.”
Lex strides through the door, a beer in each hand, and shoulders it closed. He sits on the foot of my bed and hands one to me. More alcohol is probably the last thing I need tonight, but I take it anyway. What the hell. Maybe it will dull the pain.
