Page 6 of Best Things in Life

Sarina slides a side glare at me and then gives Dools her best ball-buster grin. “Because I didn’t meet Bigs until now and so I naturally followed him here to be with him.” She pauses, gives me a devilish flicker of her eyes, her lush lashes at half mast, the fuck-you shining there, steaming my balls and pushing my half-boner towards embarrassingly solid—if I were the kind of guy who ever got embarrassed about having a big D. I’m not. But I am the kind of guy who might need to blow off some of the steam she’s creating if she keeps going.

“I had no reason to come to SPU before now,” she continues.

“Bu-u-urn,” Emily says, raising her hand for a fist bump. I don’t think I ever saw Sarina execute a girl-to-girl fist bump before, but she’s all smiles for Emily.

“Ouch,” Dooley says and sends a sorry-about-that look in my direction.

“Okay, we get it, Sarina,” I say. “You can’t stand my guts. You hate me because I’m an idiot—”

“A bastard,” she corrects.

“Fine. I’m a bastard. A stupid bastard because I left you behind three years ago.” I stare her down and our eyes are locked. She doesn’t say anything and neither of us are breathing until I finally finish my point. “Let’s move on. You need to get past your anger.”

“He could be right,” Emily says, sliding a look at Bane. “I’ve had to let my anger go—more than once. Life is better that way.” Before any of us can comment on Emily’s life and her last two meltdowns, the waitress comes over to take our orders.

“We’ll have a large artichoke heart and roasted red pepper pizza, and a Michelob Ultra for her.” I smile at Sarina because I’ve just ordered her favorite pizza and beer. She flinches with surprise and the tightness around her mouth eases. After I order a pitcher and large pepperoni for the rest of us, I reach out a hand. “Truce?” She pauses only one beat and puts out her hand to touch mine.

The warmth and familiarity strike me to the gut. The sizzle of heat that penetrates me makes my heart stutter. I see a flicker in her eyes before she lowers those sultry dark lashes.

“Can’t fight a guy who feeds me my favorite food.” Her voice is less than adamant, but I’ll take it. “You can have your truce. For today.”

With all the forced anger gone from her, what’s left shines through, leaving me more shaken than all her sniping. Because the last thing I want to see is her vulnerability, her pain uncloaked.

Fuck.

Chapter 4

SARINA

Chaos reigns in my heart even as I recite to Emily all the reasons Nate Garino is a fucking traitorous bastard all the way back to our house. Because of course I had to get out of that pizza joint as soon as possible before I let that heart-of-stone excuse for a man get to me, so I dragged Emily away from Bane and we left.

We get upstairs to our floor and she’s not happy with me.

“I’m sorry, Emily,” I say preemptively. “I’ve ruined your night just when you were warming up Bane’s—”

“I wasn’t doing anything with Bane. We’re finished. I could think of him as an asshole, but—”

“But he didn’t tell you, after three years of dating, after losing your virginity together and going on the hottest ride together, learning everything there was to know about each other, bodies and souls, he didn’t tell you he was leaving and breaking off your relationship which you thought was going to be forever? And why? Because hockey was more important. Hockey was his focus, what he wanted to do with his life. Because he chose hockey over…” My face is hot and my voice is cracking and Emily stares at me like I’ve lost it because I have. All over again. “Shit. I’m sorry… I…”

She follows me into my room and closes the door.

“It’s okay.” She shrugs. “I guess what you had with Nate meant a lot to you, was something pretty special.” She snorts a derisive laugh. “Nothing like what I had with Bane. Or anyone else for that matter.” She looks away.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find something special. Maybe even with Bane. I could swear I saw a spark there.” It helps to focus on her, to remember my little love tragedy isn’t the only one in the universe. In fact it’s a meaningless trite boo-hoo in the grand scheme of things. I laugh, mostly at myself, and Emily joins me.

“Look at us,” she says. “A pair of girly-girls crying over boys like we’re kids.”

“I know, right? We have better things to think about, bigger things to do,” I say and mean it.

“What do you want to do, Sarina?” Emily sits on my bed and I sit in my fluffy chair that I brought from my bedroom so I wouldn’t miss home too much—not that I’d admit that to a single soul under the threat of torture.

“I want to own my own restaurant someday. I don’t want to just work at my uncle’s place. I need to move beyond the family business.” I take a deep breath to let the wave of panic pass. And the longing for the dream I shared with Nate. It wasn’t nearly as scary a dream when we were going to do it together. We worked at my Uncle Joe’s place in the summers together, him in between his hockey schedule. We had such grand plans to open a restaurant together. I was going to cook and run it and he was going to help in the off season, work the front of the house and make get us all the notice we’d need to be successful.

Fuck those plans. I have my own now.

“You’re in the right place. SPU has a slamming culinary arts program.”

“I’m damn well going to make the most of it. I’m going to learn all the culinary arts I can fit in my stomach, spread past Italian cuisine which I have down pat, and master it all—Asian, Mexican, even French cooking, heaven forbid.” Emily laughs. She has an easy laugh and I appreciate it. Nate used to laugh at my sense of humor. Fuck Nate. Stop thinking about him.