I stare at the message. Like she’s not just my girlfriend but someone I can actually talk to about this stuff.
Tonight. When you get home.
JuJu
Home?
It could be. If you’ll let it.
JuJu
We’ll see.
I’ll take “we’ll see.”
27
JULIETTE
Thursday, March 13th
My phone screenblurs as I stare at it. I’m not actually reading anything. Just using it as a shield while I stand outside the arena debating getting in my car and driving back to my studio apartment and my simple, organized life.
I have two options. Medical bench with Marnie—safe, familiar, an actual job to do that would give me a legitimate excuse to avoid small talk. Or the family section. With the WAGs. With women who’ve been doing this for years while I’ve been dating Romeo for approximately five minutes.
The phone buzzes in my hand and I nearly drop it.
Marnie
If you’re standing outside spiraling, I’m coming to get you.
I’m not spiraling.
Marnie
Liar. I’ll be there in five
Damn it.
She appears two minutes later with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that look that says she knows exactly what I’m doing and she’s not having it.
“Medical bench or family section?”
“I don’t?—”
“Family section. Let’s go.” Her hand wraps around my arm and suddenly we’re moving. “You’re not hiding from this.”
“I’m not hiding.” The lie sounds weak even to me.
“You’re absolutely hiding.” She’s practically dragging me through the arena now, down hallways and past concession stands, through crowds of people. “Roman told me Rodriguez has been checking his phone every five minutes. Put the poor man out of his misery.”
We push through a door marked PRIVATE and the noise drops away. The space opens up, revealing plush seats, a full bar, and floor-to-ceiling windows showing the ice below. It’s nicer than anywhere I’ve ever sat at a hockey game. Which makes sense because I’ve never dated a professional hockey player before.
A dozen women are scattered around the section. Some bouncing babies on their laps. Others scrolling phones. A few standing at the glass watching warmups and chatting amongst themselves.
“Ladies!” Marnie’s voice cuts through the low chatter. “This is Juliette. Rodriguez’s girl. Be nice or I’ll make sure your husbands suffer at PT.”
A redhead spins around, a grin already spreading across her face. “Oh thank god. Fresh blood. I’m Goldie. Dex’s wife.” She gestures to the seat next to her. “Come sit before Elliot scares you off.”
