Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“That’s what I said.”
“Since when?”
“Since none of your business.”
He grins wider. “That’s fair.”
Boss leans back in his stall. “I just want to say, for the record, that I called it a few weeks ago.”
“You did not call it,” Rome says from the doorway.
“I absolutely called it. Ask anyone.”
“You said, and I quote, ‘There is no way Donovan has feelings. He was built in a lab.’”
Boss snorts indignantly. “I said it in a way that left room for interpretation. You merely failed to interpret it correctly.”
Chapter 30
Livia
The Wildfire wins their fourth consecutive game—this time with the LA Demons on Portland ice—and the city loses its mind.
Deservedly.
It’s the kind of win that had all the dramatic elements ending with a third-period comeback from two goals down. Boss buried the winner with forty-seven seconds left on a shot that had no business going in but did. The arena erupted like a cyclone explosion. Arch turned around on the bench and because I was nearest to him picked me up in a brutal hug before unceremoniously dropping me to swarm over the wall to join his teammates.
The entire team is celebrating at Morrison’s, a bar three blocks from the arena, and it has been effectively annexed by the Portland Wildfire for the last two hours. Someone found a back room with a karaoke setup that Arch has been hogging for the past forty minutes.
I am two glasses of wine into the evening and not anywhere close to enjoying myself. Apparently, time does not heal wounds because I’m just as sad now as I was when Locke walked out of my office.
I’m at a table in the back corner with Birdie and Juno, which is the best possible configuration to celebrate a hockey game and not think about anything else. Juno is filming nothing tonight because even Juno Paxton has decided that some nights belong to the people living them and not to the documentary.
I watch all the players and their significant others, and I drink my wine and try not to let my gaze wander over to Locke on the other side of the room.
I’m shocked he’s here tonight.
He’s no longer under any mandate to hang with the team and I figured he’d avoid this scene.
What’s even more shocking is that he seems to be enjoying himself. He’s hanging out with Dutton Black, a veteran third-line defenseman and he’s actually… laughing.
What the fuck?
“He keeps looking over here,” Birdie says.
“I know,” I say.
“Are you going to let him?”
“He can look wherever he wants.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I take a drink of wine.
Juno is watching the karaoke stage but then swivels her whole body toward me and leans in. “I need to tell you something.”
I jerk in surprise over the earnest and somewhat pained look on her face. “Oh-kaay,” I drawl.
Birdie looks confused and leans in to listen.
Juno glances at Crosby, standing over at the bar with the other players, and then back to me. “Okay… I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. Crosby didn’t say it was a secret, but it felt like it was, but now I’m not sure, so I need to tell you. Yeah… it’s the right thing to do.”
Birdie and I exchange a look and she shrugs. She’s as clueless as I am.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Okay,” Juno says with a heaving breath. “Apparently, Locke went into the locker room yesterday and announced to the entire team that you and he were in a relationship.”
The air is physically punched out of my lungs. “What?” I wheeze.
She nods. “Yeah, like… that’s a statement, right?”
My head whips Locke’s way, and he’s staring right at me, as if he knew we were talking about him. I look back to Juno. “Why would he say that?”
“Because he obviously believes it,” Juno says with an eye roll. “Crosby told me and like I said, he didn’t say it was a secret. I just assumed everything was right between you two, but since you’re sitting over here with me and Birdie, drowning your sorrows in wine, I’ve figured out everything is not okay. So I had to tell you.”
“And he told the entire locker room?” I ask skeptically, because that doesn’t sound like Locke. Except… he’s here tonight, laughing with teammates.
Maybe he’s demonically possessed?
The karaoke has gone quiet, and the sudden silence raises the volume of celebratory chatter.
“What do you think I should do?” I ask Juno and Birdie collectively.
“Well,” Birdie drawls. “You can either go ask him what the hell is going on or play it coy and make him do the work. I’m all for requiring a bit of groveling myself, but I’m evil that way.”
There’s a screech of sound over the speaker, followed by a twangy frequency that hurts my ears. Everyone groans, turning toward the stage.
And I almost fall out of my chair as I see Locke standing there with the karaoke microphone in his hand.