“She’ll root for you guys as long as it’s not against LA. She’s a big fan of Griffin’s. That’s why she talked me into going that night.”
He barks out a laugh at that. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. That game where he changed his last name to his wife’s and then did that press conference and told the whole world that he belonged to her? Pretty sure she’s a fan for life, now.” What I won’t tell him is that we both fangirled hard that game. I mean, come on. How often do you see a guy make a gesture like that?
That’s real-life romance novel stuff, and I don’t know many women who wouldn’t be a fan after that. Good for that woman. Seriously.
“Maybe that’s why she looked so startled when we ran into her at the grocery store.”
“Probably,” I say.
Or it’s because she knows I’m still hopelessly and pathetically in love with you, even ten years after you picked another girl over me, and she’d been trying to convince me to talk to you. But yeah, she also squealed a bit about meeting Griffin. Lola may not be sexually or romantically attracted to men, but she can appreciate a grand romantic gesture. She’d just rather it be a woman on skates doing the gesturing.
We need to get tickets for the Professional Women’s Hockey League while we’re here. Those women kick ass.
“And are you a Stars fan?”
The way Sebastian studies me makes me squirm. Somehow, I don’t think there’s a right answer. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Are you trying to ask if I root for you?” I bring my tea to my lips and take a sip to calm my nerves. “Because, of course, I do.”
The tea doesn’t do enough to calm me down when he studies me like he’s trying to see through my skin and down to the heart of me.
“You and Lola should come to our last home game, then. On Saturday. You can use my tickets. They’re good ones.”
Oh.
Clearing my throat, I hope I’m playing it cooler than I feel, because this is dangerous territory. “Yeah, maybe.”
He smirks. “They’ll be in your name. My parents won’t be able to make it, so they’re just going to be sitting there.”
“I’ll see what Lola says.”
“Right.” He grins, rubbing the slight scruff on his jaw with his fingertips. “You do that.”
“How are your parents?” I always loved Sebastian’s mom and dad. Luz and Victor are two of the warmest, kindest souls you could ever hope to meet. It’s no wonder Bash turned out to be so steady and kind. They treat everyone as though they’reimportant. Hugs were a frequent occurrence, and they had dinner together as often as Victor’s job would allow.
They genuinely love each other, and those summers in Maine, they welcomed me into the family and made me feel loved and accepted too. Not because of who my parents are, but because that’s simply whotheyare.
There were so many nights I didn’t want to go home.
Not because I don’t love my parents. I do. And my parents love me. But they are always busy. Even during summer “breaks,” they’d be working. Reading scripts, giving interviews, doing photo shoots for magazines… I saw them more than the rest of the year in Hollywood, but the difference between my parents and Bash’s was a bit jarring.
Sebastian’s smile softens, and my heart throbs with a dull little ache.
“They’re good. My mom’s retired. Dad still puts in some hours at the restaurant, but he’s pulled back to a few days a week. I tried to get him to retire too—it’s not like they can’t afford to, now that I’ve paid off their house—but he gets antsy if he doesn’t have something to do. It’s his passion.”
“I get that.” I wouldn’t give writing up for anything, either. Some things settle into your marrow. Become such a vital part of you that nothing could make you stop.
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” And then he turns that soft smile on me.
I wish it meant he feels the same things I feel for him, but it’s probably pure nostalgia. Or maybe he always saw me as a best friend. Or sister. Maybe that smile is simply familial.
It will have to be enough if I want to let Sebastian back into my life.
And, god help me, but I do.
