Page 106 of Keeping Score

I groaned.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Liam killed me, after all.

Chapter Thirty

Brody

Despite her best attempts at longing glances and suggestive comments, I’d managed to dodge Abbey for most of the night.

Luck ran out around the same time the alcohol did, when everyone decided it was about time to be getting back to their respective hotel rooms.

It wasn’t lost on me that more than a few of them made their excuses to let Abbey and I “catch up” before they took off.

It wasn’t their fault. This was the way it had always been. As long as I’ve known them, my name was always said in relation to Abbey.

Brody and Abbey. The one consistent pairing of the friend group for all those years.

While the rest of them tended to trade off partners on a quarterly basis, Abbey and I had always sort of stuck together.

Because we got along, yeah. But mostly because it was easy. Low stress. Low drama. She made me laugh. I didn’t really know what more to ask for.

It had been the perfect first relationship, and the fact that it never ended on any dramatic cliffhanger didn’t hurt.

But tonight, Abbey seemed determined to remind me of just how good it had been.

We were standing outside the restaurant when everyone left—Tara included—but Abbey, persistent as ever, stayed firmly glued to my side.

I couldn’t be an ass and take off in the opposite direction, so I just sort of lingered beside her, listening to her make small talk.

We walked down the sidewalk, Abbey asking questions about hockey or making comments about how lucky I was to live in a city like this.

More than anything, I wanted to go home and go to bed with Maggie beside me, but I couldn’t. The next best thing would be escaping to Liam’s guest room, where I could sleep this whole night away and hopefully see Maggie in the morning.

But something about Abbey was so tinged with sadness that I couldn’t just leave her. She was tipsy on wine and lost in her feelings, and I couldn’t stomach letting her navigate the streets of Boston alone.

Besides, she was technically the oldest friend I had. And if I’d been in a better mood, it would’ve been nice to see her. Catch up a little.

“I have a hotel room nearby,” she said, looking up at me expectantly.

“I’ll walk you there,” I offered.

“Thanks,” she said, slipping her hand in mine.

As naturally as I could muster, I pulled it from her grasp, tucking it safely away in my pocket.

“What?” she laughed. “I’m not allowed to hold your hand anymore?”

“Not really. No.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me after all this time.” Her face fell in defeat. “I’ve missed you, Brody. You never come home anymore.”

“I am happy to see you, Abbey,” I said gently.

“But you won’t hold my hand or kiss me. Even though that’s what we do.”

“What we did,” I told her. “Abbey, I’ve had a girlfriend for the last five years. I haven’t even seen you in six. We can’t just pick up right where we left off. Things change.”

“You didn’t,” she told me. “And I didn’t.”