My heart’s pounding in my chest, but I can do this. I let my facial expression fall to unaffected and rein in my tone. I give him the version of myself I give everyone, the one that’s all clean edges and no doors. He keeps talking. He gets closer than theconversation needs him to be. He brings up the time we’ve been apart, and I cut him off before he can finish his thought.
“Honestly,” he says, dropping his voice, leaning in, “I was kind of hoping I’d bump into you.”
Get me out of this kitchen.
“Yeah?” I ask, but it’s not flirty.
He nods with that charming smile, taking it like I’m flirting. “Yeah.”
Where’s Kirra? Bree? Why is there no familiar face nearby?
I dated Gavin for four months, and he spent a lot of it talking about my father. It was lame to say the least, and then I was a day late for my period and freaking out. Of course, I called him first, but that was my first mistake. He didn’t want to hear that I missed my period unless I was sure. I remember telling him that’s not how periods work, and that missing it was a sure thing. It was the biggest red flag. He came over and didn’t help with the situation at all. He knew he was the only person I was seeing, but he still acted as if it couldn’t be his. I recall staring at him in the bathroom mirror when the pregnancy test was negative, filled with immense relief, and I told him right then and there that we should stop seeing each other. He easily agreed. And watching him walk out on me after everything, I felt struck.
Now I’m standing here realizing I don’t know him at all, that I never did, and he is looking at me like nothing much has happened between us, like we’re old friends catching up, and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I would rather be home. I would rather be at the rink. I would rather be writing reports about other people’s sons at one in the morning than be in this kitchen for one more second. I would rather be ––
Stanley walks in through the front door. Benson and Blue are right behind him.
The room, sort of, just stops.
And I realize that, as much as I’ve disliked Stanley Ermington, for one moment, I would rather be bickering with him than talking to Gavin.
That’s my sign.
Stanley shakes hands with someone, and my heart’s racing. I thought I despised Ermington’s existence, but right now, it feels like a Hail Mary.
Look my way, Ermington. Look my way.
His eyes find mine across the room, but he doesn’t give me a moment. His eyes glide over to Gavin next to me, and his face lights up. I watch it in real time. The way his expression relaxes, and his smile reaches his eyes. What the hell? He’s smiling like that because of Gavin.
“Yo, Gavin,” Stanley calls out, widening his arms as he walks over. “What’s up, man?”
They pull each other into a bro hug, slapping each other’s backs loudly.
When Gavin moves on to greet Benson, I don’t hesitate. Hesitation is how you lose, and I am done losing tonight.
I slide my hand into the crook of Stanley’s elbow and pull him into my body. I look up at him and smile like he just saved the world because he’s about to save mine.
He’s staring down at me, mortified.
“There you are, babe,” I say loudly.
The party doesn’t stop. The party has no idea. Gavin finishes shaking hands with Blue, and then when he turns around, the beer is at his mouth. He briefly chokes on it.
As he’s wiping his mouth, Gavin looks at me. He looks at Stanley. He looks back at me.
And Stanley’s mouth opens a fraction, and nothing comes out of it. Nothing. The single most verbal human being I have ever encountered, the man who has something to say about absolutely everything, has run completely out of words.
I smell him before I remember I’d be smelling him — cucumber soap and that clean pine thing underneath it, the cold of the night still on his jacket — and I cringe, internally, violently, at how familiar it is now. I press myself tighter against his arm anyway, because the only thing worse than noticing how he smells is Gavin getting another sentence out.
“Babe?” Gavin’s looking between us now. His eyes settle on Stanley. “Is this why you didn’t text me back?”
I look up at Stanley to see what he does with that.
And all he does is glare at Gavin.
He’s not grinning anymore. His happy-go-lucky act has dropped completely. I’ve watched him grin at coaches mid-bollocking and goalies he’s just humiliated and me, endlessly, insufferably. I have never seen this. Whatever’s on his face right now is colder than anything I knew he was capable of. I think Blue and Benson know too because they get taller.
Stanley’s free hand moves to the small of my back, and I can feel the heat of his palm straight through my sweater. I wince but hide the heat on my face.
