It’smy second time wearing a WAG playoff jacket, and I don’t feel any less like an imposter. Especially when people turn to look at Lola and me as we walk around the arena. I shouldn’t care. Lola’s not anyone’s wife or girlfriend, but she’s rocking the jacket like she was made to.
I wish I had her confidence.
The thing is, I can practically feel the comparisons happening in real time when I stand next to the other women. They’re so pretty. And while all of them are different—some are tall, some are short, a beautiful kaleidoscope of races and skin tones—there’s one glaring difference between me and the rest of them.
I’m pretty sure I’m the only one over two hundred pounds.
It shouldn’t matter. Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind my curves and cellulite, so I shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks when they see me standing next to these goddesses. But comparison is a cruel and familiar companion in my life. It’s difficult to silence my own inner critic when I’ve spent years listening to so many loud external critics with massive platforms.
“So, the girls and I have a romance book club.” Mira angles her body toward Lola and me, her green eyes crinkling in the corners. “And we were hoping you two would join us. We haven’t picked the next book yet, so if you have any suggestions, we’re all ears. What do you say?”
Lola grins widely and claps her hands. “Hell, yeah! Count us in. We love romance.” My best friend shoots me a sideways glance. “Especially Indie.”
My heart hammers in my chest, even though I know Lola won’t say anything to reveal my secret identity. But ever since the day at the bookstore, I’ve been wondering if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell the world who I am? What would it be like to do fun in-person events at places like It’s a Love Story? Or to tell two enthusiastic young women that the books they’re carrying around were written by me?
I’m not sure I’m ready, but part of me is warming up to the idea.
“Amazing. We’ll add you to the group chat, and we can all vote on what we want to read.” Mira smiles brightly. “And, Lola, I think Griffin found someone to set you up with.”
Lola’s eyes widen and her whole face lights up. “Seriously? Who?”
“Her name is Megan James. She’s the center for the Lightning. I’ve met her a few times, and she’s really cool. She seemed very interested when Griffin showed her your picture. She thinks you’re really pretty.” Mira waggles her eyebrows at Lola as the other women listen in, grinning and invested.
“For real? Oh my god. Okay, I need to look her up.” Lola’s phone is in her hands in seconds. Fingers flying over the screen, she has Megan’s photo and bio pulled up in moments. She’s gorgeous. Tall, with chestnut brown hair, the photo shows her walking into the arena on a game day, dressed to impress in a miniskirt, flowy sequined camisole, and glittery combat boots.Her amber brown eyes are kind, and there’s a mischievous set to her smile that tells me she and Lola will get along perfectly.
“What do you think? Is she your type?” Isla asks.
“My type? A tall, Amazonian goddess who can pick me up and throw me down on a bed? Hells, yeah.” Lola practically has hearts in her eyes, and the rest of us break out into laughter.
“I can tell Griffin to share your number with her, then?” Mira’s lips twitch because the answer is pretty obvious.
“Um, yes, please.” Lola fans herself. “Damn.”
The roar of the crowd calls our attention back to the game just in time to watch Sebastian block a shot attempt from Dallas’s center. We all cheer. It’s the middle of the third period, and the Rogues are up four to two. No one wants to jinx it by claiming a win while the clock counts down, because a lot can happen in ten minutes of hockey, but we’re all feeling good. Hopeful.
Lola leans in close to me, her voice full of excitement when she says, “We could be cheering on my girlfriend soon, exactly like this.”
“Getting ahead of yourself a bit, aren’t you?” I tease, bumping her with my shoulder.
“Nah, boo, I’m manifesting.”
Manifesting. If anyone has the power to manifest a hockey player girlfriend, it’s Lola. Hell, I’m pretty sure she manifested Sebastian and me reconnecting, so I’m not betting against her. I hope it works out for her, I really do, because my best friend is amazing and she deserves to be loved. “Noted.”
“I’m manifesting for you too. You’re going to marry that hunky little crab boy down there.” Lola juts her chin out in Sebastian’s direction.
“Lola…”
“Don’tLolame, Indigo. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you. It’s time you both got your happily ever afters.”My best friend gives my hand a squeeze. “And it’s also time you got laid. So tonight, I’m taking a rideshare after we get drinks, and you’re going to go home with that hockey hunk and let him score in your crease.”
“Ew. Lola, no. Absolutely not.”
The chaos gremlin that is my best friend just throws her head back and laughs and laughs and laughs.
Cheers eruptin the family room as the team files in. Another win closer to advancing to the next round of the playoffs, and another win at home. I watch, chest swelling with happiness, as these big hockey players hug their partners and kids, massive smiles on their faces.
They’re one step closer to achieving every pro athlete’s dream.
“Rosebud.” Bash scoops me up in his arms before I can protest. He swings me around, kissing my cheeks as I giggle. “Hey, sweetheart.”
