Page 60 of Breakaway Hearts

Instead, I explore the house. The vibe is…interesting. The art on the walls looks like it would fit better in a museum than a frat house, like breaking that sculpture in the corner would put me on the line for millions of dollars. And there aren’t only throw blankets and pillows on the couch, there’s an actual wicker basket filled with knit slippers.

It’s tucked under the coffee table, either a gift they never plan to use, or something they want to protect from all the drunk strangers in their house tonight. Or maybe I just haven’t been inside a real frat house, I’ve only seen the ones on TV.

My eyes keep drifting back to Owen and his mystery woman, who seems equally comfortable with every other player. Like she’s been around for a while.

Or with a lot of them?

Jason looks like he’s having a great time, but I’m sure he’d have more fun if he didn’t have to constantly make sure I’m okay. My job of getting him here is done, so there’s no reason for me to stay.

I’m halfway to Jason when the mystery woman stops me.

“You must be Jason’s Madison?” She has a friendly, welcoming smile, but she looks a little too happy to see me. “I’m Savannah James, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“We’re just friends.” I have no interest in being recruited as a WAG. “Who are you here for?”

“The whole team, I guess. They all take turns, but Owen was the one who insisted I come tonight.”

“That sounds…nice.” It doesn’t. At all. No shade towards puck bunnies. I’ve spent my fair share of nights looking to hook up with someone, anyone, with little regard for them as a person, but I can’t imagine throwing myself at players after a game. I went for dark bars or crowded clubs where I could barely tell you what they looked like.

It doesn’t sound much healthier, to be honest.

“That sounded slutty, didn’t it?” She accurately reads my expression. “I meant they take turns checking in on me while Noah’s away,” she shares.

“Wouldn’t want you to have too much fun.”

“Oh, he wishes I would. I wasn’t the best at making friends when we started dating, so he worries sometimes. He’s like…a man written by a woman. Only better. And real.”

“And he got his roommates to look out for you.”

“I am on the board,” she agrees. “But I think the party invites are their own doing. I’m sure if Noah had the choice, he’d rather I befriend girls than spend my nights as the odd girl out with a bunch of hockey players. It’ll be nice to have you around…assuming you’re a friend who comes to games?”

“Sometimes,” I agree, though I haven’t missed one yet.

“I’ve been absent lately, for work stuff and Noah, but I should be more consistent now. Are you in the text group?”

“Which one?”

“I think it’s called WAGs, but there are no wives, and some of us are neither. I think of it as the friends and family of the players,” she explains. “We mostly just sit together during games, and sometimes we’ll get together to watch the away ones, or have road trips if it’s a really big game or somewhere fun. We also do this kickboxing class most mornings at that cute little gym on Main? At least I do, and it’s really fun. You should join.”

“I thought you said you were bad at making friends?” Not that she’s won me over, but she’s putting up a good fight, and if it was anything other than athletes, especially hockey players, I would probably jump right in.

“I was,” she agrees with a sigh, but she doesn’t seem upset, more…content. “But it’s impossible to be lonely when you let these guys have your back.”

She smiles and excuses herself to go talk to another player who just walked in.

I don’t miss the wording there, about letting them have my back. I envy her as much as I’m nervous for her. Because the season just started, and I thought those boys had my back too.

I head for Jason again, but this time a ping pong ball flies within an inch of my face. I turn to see a giggling girl apologize, covering her face with the paddle, at least a dozen cups on the table in front of her.

“Seriously? Drinking games?” I say to no one in particular, shaking my head at the horrors waiting to happen. “Let’s make sure everyone is so drunk they can’t say no,” I add under my breath.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Owen

I could kill Hargraves

“Are you nervous?” Tab asks me when I turn onto Ivy.