Page 14 of Best Things in Life

“Okay, okay. No need to go serial killer on me.” I pause a few beats as we pull down our street, my eyes automatically going to the Kappa Kappa Gamma house where Sarina lives. Emily lives there too. I hear a deep growl come from his throat.

“Fuck. I have no idea what to do about her,” he says.

“Join the club, Bane. All the best people are members.” He snorts a laugh.

“Guess you’re the president.”

I pull into the driveway all the way to the back of the house onto the grass to make room for other cars, though most of them will park in the street.

“Want my advice?” I don’t wait for his answer as he gives me a skeptical look. “Go for it. Give her a shot. You only live once and if you don’t take any chances I’d hardly call it living.”

“Says the guy who let the love of his life go—”

“Who the fuck said she was the love of my life?” As I say the words, I’m not kidding him and certainly not kidding myself. But that was then and this is now and I’ve gotten over her in the past three years, devoted myself to hockey. That single-minded devotion is about to pay off. I can’t look back now. No matter how painful it is to be reminded every single fucking day about what I gave up.

Bane laughs as he pushes open the door and I would laugh at me too if I were him.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to clear the furniture out of the main room and the dining room with the help of freshman football muscle. I mostly direct. Three kegs are delivered and I take charge of getting the food that Majik left for us in the pantry. Nothing too complicated. Mostly sandwiches, vegetables and dip, with two trays of some kind of meat-filled pastry shit to put in the oven, which is nothing for a restaurant worker veteran like me. Not that I was ever a cook. I did assorted kitchen work then graduated to front of the house. After three summers at Sarina’s uncle Joe’s place, I could run a restaurant on my own.

Had plans to do just that at some point, either on the off-season or after retiring from the NHL. With Sarina. Fuck. I burn my hand as I slip the tray into the oven and it hurts like a son of a bitch until I get it under cold water. Bane comes into the kitchen.

“The band is setting up so we’ll give it twenty minutes before we open the door. There’s already a few people out front.” I nod, my hand cooling under the water.

“What the fuck did you do?” He comes over and frowns at my hand, an obvious burn mark slashing the side.

“It’s nothing.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s what they all say. Including me.”

“Seriously. A small burn. Not my first and won’t be my last.”

“Beer tapped and ready to go?” I nod. “Good because I need one.”

“Blowing your quota early?” He gives me the finger on his way out the back door. A few of the freshmen come through the kitchen and head straight for the back deck, where the kegs are set up. I’ll let Bane deal with turning the under-age guys away empty-handed. Dean Lassiter would hang our balls if he found out we gave beer to freshmen. The band is warming up and I shut down the water. I’m all sweaty, so I assign one of the younger guys to watch the oven and go upstairs to take a quick shower for the party. By the time I’m finished, I’m determined to have a good time tonight even if it kills me.

How hard could it be to avoid Sarina at a crowded party?

Wrapping the towel around my hips, I push open the bathroom door and run into the one person that I’m trying to stay away from. She’s right here in the hallway. My hallway. Sarina stares me down, eyes wide and not missing my state of undress.

“What the fuck?” I say. I push the wet hair from my face and manage to hang onto my towel, my dick immediately aware of a hot girl in close proximity and only a flimsy towel precariously standing between us.

“Sorry,” she says with no sorrow in her voice, though she backs away. If I surprised her, she quickly gets over it and gives me a bold once-over.

“Don’t let lover boy catch you staring at me like Goldilocks eying the porridge.”

She snort-laughs and moves her eyes back up to mine. “High opinion of yourself, as always, I see.”

“Same opinion a girl I used to know had of me and my hot body.” A scowl takes over her face quicker than a flash of lightning and about as hot and dangerous.

“Fuck you,” she says like a slap in my face and storms two doors down into Bigs’s bedroom.

Fuck me indeed. Way to go, Nate. Send her away angry and spitting fire, all hot and bothered, heading right into fucking lover boy’s arms.

But the lines have been clearly drawn with bright bold colors. I need to forget about her because that’s what she wants and I need to respect her wishes.

After dressing and downing a generous swig of good whiskey—training be damned—I go downstairs to join the party. After finding Sarina in the kitchen—of course—I head into the main room and get lost in the crowd until I spot Summer and Dooley.