I’ve missed the man across from me more than I realized. Missed the way his deep brown eyes sparkle like he’s lit fromwithin. I missed the way he’d run his hand through his raven hair when he was nervous or overwhelmed. Hell, there’s not much I haven’t missed about him.
I was an idiot for thinking being in the same city would be enough. Proximity won’t cut it.
Sebastian Navarro may never feel the same way I do, but being heartbroken with him in my life is so much better than being heartbroken without him.
“They’re planning on coming out for at least one postseason game,” he says carefully. “They’d love to see you. If you’re still in town.”
“Yeah. I’d love to see them too.”
He tugs his lower lip between his teeth. “Good. Okay, yeah.”
“This goat is amazing,” I say, changing the subject back to something safer.
“I knew you’d like it. Now, tell me more about Lola. She seems cool.”
Maybe I can do this. Spend time with him again. All I need to do is change the subject when things get too real. It’s not what I want, but maybe it’s good enough.
It’ll have to be because I can’t seem to tear myself away.
eleven
INDIGO
“I still thinkyou should get a jersey with his name on it.” Lola grabs a jersey off the rack in the team store. It’s packed. Everyone wants souvenirs to celebrate the last regular-season game of the year and the fact that the Rogues are favored to make it all the way to the Cup.
“I don’t want to send the wrong message,” I reply, dismissing her and picking up a hoodie.
“And what message is that? The one that says you’ve followed his career since college, know all his stats, and got your best friend into hockey because you couldn’t stand to miss a game, even if it meant we stayed in instead of going out?” Lola waves the jersey in front of my face,Navarroplastered across the back. “I’m pretty sure he’s not going to assume you’re in love with him because you wear his jersey. Even if that’s the truth.”
“Lola,” I hiss, scanning the crowded room to make sure no one is listening. The last thing I need is for our conversation to spark the interest of some super fan and then get recognized.
“Oh, relax, Inds. Half the women in this room are probably in love with him.” She sidles up to me and leans in close. “But theydon’t know him. You do. And you’re the one whose number he was desperate to get.”
“I’m not buying the jersey.”
She shrugs. “Fine. Live in your denial, boo. I’m getting Griffin’s jersey. He’s a legend for what he did last year. And for marrying that gorgeous woman.”
Some of the tension drains from my shoulders, and I laugh at that. “She is pretty.”
“So is Bash.”
“Jesus, Lols.”
A woman looks our way and chuckles. “He is, right?”
Lola nods. “I don’t even like men, and I can agree he is.”
“I’m going to pay for this hoodie.” And with that, I walk away from my best friend, her loud laughter following me to the register.
I’m going to regret bringing her tonight.
The energyin the arena is electric. It’s the last game of the regular season and a home game, so you can practically feel the collective hope that this is the year the Rogues bring home the Cup.
The New York Warriors are living up to their name. They’re not as high in the league standings as the Rogues, which gives them chips on their shoulders and something to prove.
We’re halfway through the second period, and it’s been a very physical game. I can’t even count the number of times players have been slammed into the boards, and while no fights have broken out yet, it’s probably only a matter of time.
The score is tied one to one, and even though I can’t see him clearly from our seats near center ice, I can tell Sebastianis frustrated. It doesn’t matter that he’s already stopped twenty-two shot attempts; he let one through.
