Page 143 of The Heart Breaker

Because the truth is, I don’t fucking know.

“Need us to go beat the shit out of your dad?” he adds when I don’t answer.

Ryan cuts him a look. “Not helping.”

Austin lifts a shoulder and looks back at me.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to fix this. I don’t know how to get Sophie back. I don’t know how everything got so fucked all at once.

But standing here with the guys, I don’t feel completely alone anymore.

38

AURORA

What’s the actual difference between self-care and just rotting on the couch?

As far as I can tell, there isn’t one. They’re both just chilling in comfy clothes with snacks and a face mask on.

Self-care definitely sounds better than admitting I’ve been lying on the couch for hours in an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts with a face mask, my hair in a messy bun, a bag of Hot Cheetos balanced on my stomach while some trashy reality show plays on the TV.

Cole ruined anime for me. Every time I try to watch it, all I can think about is him, so trash TV it is.

I tip the bag back and dump a few more Cheetos into my mouth, and when I look up again, the screen goes black.

My head jerks up. Isabella is standing there with the remote in one hand and Maisie beside her.

“Hey,” I say with a mouthful of Cheetos. “I was watching that.”

“This is an intervention,” Isabella says, Maisie standing beside her. “You’ve been moping for way too long. The game starts in an hour. Get dressed.”

I sigh and reach for another Cheeto. “I’m not going.”

“What?” Isabella says, staring at me like I just announced I’m joining a cult. “That’s insane. Hockey is your favorite sport.”

“Is it?” I lift a brow. “What if I only liked it because Chase played and I wanted to be the supportive little girlfriend in the stands cheering for him like the complete idiot I was?”

Her brows pull together. “You know that’s not true.”

I toss another Cheeto into my mouth. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do,” she says. “You are not the kind of girl who changes her whole personality for a guy. You loved hockey before him, during him, and after him, so nice try.”

Annoyingly, she’s right.

I liked hockey long before I started dating Chase. I loved the skill and speed—and, okay, the fighting is kind of hot too.

Maisie shifts, the hem of the jersey she’s wearing with her boyfriend’s number riding up before she absently tugs it back down. “I like it even though I still don’t totally get what’s going on half the time,” she admits. “I mostly just cheer when Austin scores.”

“You are dating a center forward, Maisie.” Isabella narrows her eyes at her. “I’m honestly shocked by how little you know.” She lets out a dramatic sigh and shakes her head. “Remind me to teach you the rules.”

Then she turns back to me, narrowing her eyes all over again. “And you,” she says, “are not the kind of girl who stays home moping over some guy, so get your ass up, put on something hot, and let’s go.”

My brows jump, but because she’s right—and a little terrifying right now— I push myself up off the couch. “Jesus. Bossy much?” I mutter. “I don’t know how Ryan puts up with you.”

She gives me a look that says she’s two seconds from dressing me herself, then jerks her chin toward my room. “You have ten minutes.”

Ten minutes into the game, I stop resenting Isabella for dragging me here and remember exactly why I love hockey in the first place.