“Of course,” Jeannine said. “You’re one of us now, in a sense.”
“You take care of our boys,” Paige added.
“Come out with us,” Bailey said.
“Now?”
“Yeah,” Jeannine said, motioning to the ice where the Sharks were gathered around Coach. “They’ll have a good lecture after this, then showers, then a gossip sesh—though they’d never admit to it—and then after all that is said and done they’ll meet up with us later.”
“We’ve got a good two hours, at least,” Bailey said, standing, the other’s following.
I debated the paperwork in my office, though I knew I could catch up on it first thing in the morning.
I thought about my original plan—hanging around till after practice and showers, for the off-chance Bentley would seek me in my office, for something innocent like coffee or burgers.
Pathetic.
“I’m so in,” I said, following them down the steps and out of the rink.
“Nice,” Bailey said, looping her arm through mine. “We all rode together, so hop in with us and we’ll bring you back to your car later.”
I agreed, falling into the backseat of Nine’s car.
Bailey chatted the entire twenty-minute drive to a hole-in-the wall sports bar that smelled like a combo of fried-food-heaven and sweet liquor.
Nine snagged a booth tucked in the back corner—big enough to fit eight people—and my stomach fluttered at the thought that Bentley might join the guys later.
Foolish to get my hopes up, but I’d always been a fool for Bentley Rogers.
“I know the chef and bartender here,” Nine said. “It looks like a shady establishment but his food is almost better than mine.”
Paige gaped at her.
“I said almost,” Jeannine said, playfully swatting Paige’s arm.
“Just shocked you did,” Paige said.
Bailey had rushed to the bar and returned with four long-necks before taking a seat next to me.
“To a new season?” she asked, raising her beer.
“To a new season,” we all agreed, clinking our bottles together before taking a drink.
The beer was ice cold and this side of hoppy, two of my favorite combinations.
“So,” Nine said. “What is your story? Tell us everything ever.”
“Nine,” Bailey chided again.
I chuckled.
“It’s fine,” I said, though a string of nerves tightened in my stomach. I took a few extra drinks in an attempt to ease the tension from my shoulders.
The struggle was real while I debated on where to start. I wanted girlfriends on a near-desperate level—missing that camaraderie that my relationship in Canada had all but obliterated.
“How’d you get into the hockey life?” Paige asked, a much simpler approach than insert life story here.
Except that the answer involved Bentley.
I swallowed hard.
What the hell? They were married to Sharks and had been kind to me each time I’d seen them. Might as well go all in. I finished my beer before I spoke, needing the liquid courage.
“Well, that story involves the rookie,” I said, unable to shape my lips around Bent’s name.
Jeannine’s mouth dropped. “What?”
I shrugged, trying not to give away just how much I loved Bentley . . . how much I’d never stopped.
“We grew up together,” I finally said, thankful when our waitress brought over another round.
“Small world,” Bailey said.
Not really.
After what had happened at Ontario . . . I’d sought out a deal with the Sharks. I didn’t expect anything to happen between me and Bent, I just needed to get away from Ontario.
Be somewhere safe.
“So, you two were friends and his love of hockey rubbed off on you?” Paige asked, still sipping her first beer.
I was well into my second.
“Something like that.”
“I’m super good at reading between the lines, Chloe,” Nine said. “It’s a curse. Spill.”
“Feel free to ignore her,” Bailey said, eyeing Nine. “She’s totally pushy when it comes to romance.”
Nine tsked her. “If I wasn’t where do you two think you’d be, huh? Probably not married to your Sharks!”
Paige gaped at Bailey. “She’s delusional,” she said. “She thinks those lists were the reason we fell in love with our husbands.”
“You’re lying to yourself if you think it’s not,” Jeannine fired back.
“Lists?” I asked, trying like hell to keep up.
“Nothing,” Bailey and Paige said at the same time.
My shoulders dropped a fraction.
Bailey sighed. “Nine may have helped us create some dirty-girl bucket-lists.” She hurried through the words, her cheeks flushing. “Before we were ever with Gage or Rory. The lists . . . they kind of helped us break the ice and . . . you can guess the rest from there.”
Paige held her chin high, no amount of flush on her cheeks. I would expect nothing less from Rory’s wife.
“See,” Jeannine said. “Thank you. Took you almost two years and our new BFF to admit it.”
My heart swelled at her declaration, and it almost made me sad. The fact that a few girls’ friendship could mean so much to me.
He kept me so isolated and I didn’t even realize.
“Don’t get me started on your story, Nine,” Paige said, shooting her a playful look that didn’t match the threat in her words at all.
Jeannine shrugged, her beautiful blonde locks bouncing with her shoulder’s movement. “I’m an open book,” she said, glancing at me. “I had a smoking hot one-night-stand with Warren.”
I spit half my beer back into the bottle.
The girls chuckled.
“And it resulted in Katherine.”
I raised my brows.
“Then I fell for him.”
“And they lived happily ever after,” Paige cooed, and Nine smacked her arm again.
“That’s . . . wonderful,” I said, and hated the longing in my voice. “That you all managed to find happiness. It’s rarer in this world than you’d think.”
“Damn it,” Nine slammed her beer on the table. “Did the rookie break your heart?”
I forced out a laugh, fiddling with the label on my beer. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
Bailey gasped. “You?”
“It’s complicated.”
Nine propped an elbow on the table, her chin resting against her hand. “I love complicated.”
Paige rolled her eyes.
“It was a decade ago,” I said, waving her off like it wasn’t the most significant moment in my life. Like it—and the events that happened after—hadn’t set me on a dangerous course I never expected.
“And now you’re here,” Bailey said. “Working for the Sharks. That sounds even more complicated.”
“He moved on.” I finished my second beer. “Easily. Quickly. It took me a while longer.”
“How long were you two together?” Paige asked.
I sighed. “My whole life.” I blinked out of the past. “Well, until we were seventeen, anyway.”
“Why did it end?” Jeannine asked.
A splinter of ice cracked across my heart.
Because I needed to set him free.
So he could become who he was meant to be.
Who he is now.
“He got a full-ride hockey scholarship. I had . . . obligations at home. I didn’t want to hold him back.”
Not that he knew that.
Or knew the terms of those obligations.
No one did.
Not really.
Not even him.
A cold shudder ran along my spine.
Everything was so tangled.
I’d thought coming to Seattle—putting sixteen-hundred-miles between me and him would fix everything.
News to me, things were more complicated than before.
At least one thing was working out for the better.
Those obligations.
What I would willingly destroy my heart for again and again . . .
My mother.
I finally had full control of her care, and she was getting the best care possible. Thanks to this contract.
“Sorry,” Bailey said as if she could read the regret in my eyes.
I forced a smile to my lips, handing off my second empty to the waitress and happily accepting my third. I hadn’t intended to get drunk with the girls, but there was something about a drink or three that made recalling my past with Bentley a little easier.
A little less painful.
“It’s fine,” I said.