Page 45 of Locke

I look at my wine, hoping the answer to why I’m feeling slightly jealous is in there.

It is not.

“What about you?”Molly asks me.

“I’m not playing this game,” I say.

“You literally just played it by commenting on Birdie’s answer,” Molly points out.

“I made a general observation.”

“Livia.”

“I work with these men professionally.It would be completely inappropriate for me to—”

“You can say Locke Donovan too,” Birdie suggests.“I won’t be jealous.”

My mouth sags slightly open.Does she know that I have… what… feelings for him?

Everyone turns to look back at me but I play it off.“I’m not confirming that,” I say.

“You’re not denying it,” Molly says.

“I work with him, ladies.I can’t be making comments about it at all.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Birdie says with a snort.“Juno is doing a documentary and banging the star.Lines are crossed all the time.”

Juno chokes on her wine and elbows Birdie.“That was crass—”

“But true,” Birdie inserts, then turns my way with expectant eyes.“Juno had clear opinions on Crosby being hot despite a working relationship.So, spill it.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just—” I stop.“Fine.Locke is objectively attractive.That’s a factual observation about a person’s physical appearance and it means nothing.”

Molly looks at me with the expression she’s deployed since we started puberty and first noticed boys.The one that says she knows exactly what I’m not saying and she’s filing it away for later.The fact she doesn’t push here in front of everyone tells me she’s one hundred percent going to push for details.

I appreciate that discretion more than I can say.

“He’s so mysterious,” Juno says, steering the conversation forward.“I’ve been around this team for a while now and I still feel like I know almost nothing about him.He shows up, he does the work, he disappears.”

“Mystery makes a man infinitely more attractive in my book,” Birdie says.

“Yes,” Molly agrees, pointing her finger.“Add in a little hard to get, and my juices get going.”

“Eww,” I say, wrinkling my nose at Molly, who snickers.“But yeah… pretty sure there are studies done on the effects of mystery on attractiveness.”

And Locke Donovan is nothing but a big, shadowy ball of mystery.

After dinner we migrate to the backyard.Juno opens the wide glass doors, the night air cold and sharp, but she lights the outdoor fireplace and we pull chairs around it.We open Molly’s champagne and it’s one of those evenings that feels separate from everything else.Like a pocket in time.

“So, ladies,” Molly intones, her third glass of wine making her nosier than normal.“Continuing on the hot hockey players… I want to live vicariously through you three.Let’s play Marry, Fuck, Kill, but I won’t give you choices since I don’t know them at all.You tell me who you would Marry, Fuck, Kill on the team.”

“Oh no,” I say, holding out my hands palm first.“I absolutely refuse to play that game.”

“Party pooper,” Molly says and looks to Juno.