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“Anytime. You’re a good person. Don’t let this bullshit get you down. Now tell me what's going on with your roommates, because I’m dying to know.”
I laughed again and spilled the whole story. From the night we left her house until now. It was therapeutic to get it off my chest. Even though it wasn’t really a secret, we’d still kind of kept it under wraps. Obviously for good reason.
I spoke to Julieta for close to forty-five minutes, and by the time I hung up, I felt somewhat better about the fact the world thought I was a fame whore. I emerged from the bedroom and found Devan in the media room, amongst all the mattresses where we’d been so happy not twelve hours earlier. Huey was with him.
He saw me and straightened into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, because no, I wasn’t. He stood, keeping one eye on Huey as he walked over to me. He stopped a foot away, holding his arms out, offering me solace but not forcing me to take it. His eyes were guarded, his whole body tense.
I hesitated, but only briefly. I stepped into the strong circle of his arms, burying my face in his chest. This whole thing might blow up in our faces, so I was going to be selfish and take the consolation where I could.
“Want me to buy the newspaper and burn down the building?” he whispered into my hair, and I laughed, a choked, bitter sound.
“Yes.” I very much wanted some old-school revenge on the people who’d so callously decided my life, my reputation, and the reputations of the guys meant nothing. Because why? They were public figures and therefore it was open season? Fuckers. Still, I sighed. “No. You’re too pretty for prison.”
He chuckled softly. “I’m really not.” His words were loaded, and normally I’d chase down the secrets that darkened his tone, but not today. Today, I just wanted to bask in the feel of his hand sliding up and down my back. “It’ll blow over, Nova. Or it won’t. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says. None of us do. It’s going to be okay in the end—you just have to be strong and ignore the toxic shit being spewed by people who don’t know us.”
I knew he was right. Julieta had said much the same thing, but it wasn’t Devan, or River or Rigby being called the most vile things. It wasn’t them being torn apart: their looks, their life choices… everything.
Devan’s phone kept buzzing. He’d check it briefly, then go back to cuddling me and Huey. We were watching Disney movies in the media room, ignoring the world. I finally answered my own texts, of which thirty were from Chloe. I felt slightly guilty that I hadn’t talked to her in ages, and even though we were closer in distance, we hadn’t been talking as much.
I realized belatedly it was because, other than my parents, she’d been the only constant in my life for so long. I’d relied on her so heavily all my life, but now I had the guys, and they were sharing the emotional load of being my friend. Still, her last text saidGetting in the car now. You better answer your door, bitch.I had to laugh. It was only from ten minutes ago, so I called her back, turning down the volume on the surround sound.
She answered on the second ring. “Are you okay?” she asked immediately, and I felt guilty about how frantic she sounded.
“I’m fine, Chlo. A little in shock, but I’m okay. You don’t have to come.”
I could tell she was in the car, but when I heard the faint, rhythmic click of her indicator, I knew she was pulling over. There was a moment of silence. “What’s going on, Nova? I haven’t heard from you in ages, and I let it go because I knew you were settling into parenthood and a new city. But the first I hear of my best friend in a month is on a gossip page on social media? Should I be worried?”
I sighed heavily. She was right. I’d been a shitty friend. “No, I was happy.” I caught myself. “Iamhappy. This is just a weird speedbump.” My eyes met Devan’s, and he picked up Huey, miming feeding him. I nodded and watched him leave, my heart doing this weird little flip thing. “So fucking happy, Chloe. But sometimes, I’m not sure I’m meant to be happy.”
Chloe gave a derisive snort. “Stop that shit right there. You deserve happiness more than anyone else I know. But you’re going to have to start at the beginning. Are you actually dating four fucking hockey players?”
I frowned at the reminder that Muss and Julieta were being dragged into this shit. “Only two hockey players. And Devan Mayson. Huey’s uncles.”
Chloe made a strangled noise. “You’re fucking Devan motherfucking Mayson? Billionaire Devan Mayson?Forbes‘Thirty under Thirty’, bachelor of the year, Devan damn Mayson? And you didn’t think to tell me,your best friend of twenty-three years?”
I cringed. “It's a new thing.”
“Not so fucking new if the world is looking at pictures of you gazing lovingly at each other.” She sounded kind of mad, and a fresh wave of guilt hit me.
So I explained everything again, for the second time that morning. Chloe sat quietly and listened, and unlike with Julieta, I spared no details. She gasped when I told her about Rigby going down on me in the kitchen, and River kissing me, and the bitch from ASPN catching us.
When I got to the part with Rigby’s proposal of polyamory, she screeched. “Oh my freaking god! I am happy for you right now, but also insanely fucking jealous. They all agreed?” I made a humming affirmative noise. “And now you’re being dicked down by three extremely fucking attractive men on the regular? Wait, I’m pulling up Rigby Engman’s player profile. I already Googled River Cooper when you told me he contested for Huey’s guardianship, so I knew who I had to put a hit on if he made you sad.” I chuckled; she would, too. “Oh. My. God. He looks like sunshine, if sunshine was a buff human with a fucking ass sculpted from stone. Girl, if I was there, I’d high five you so hard right now…”
I laughed, because she wasn’t wrong. There was just something about Rigby. Sometimes even just seeing him walk into the room made me happy.
“I’m really lucky.”
“Bitch, yeah you are. So I want you to get up off the damn couch where I know you’re moping and feeling inadequate. I want you to go find the closest one of them fine specimens, and have ‘fuck you’ sex to all those repressed, sports-loving, inbred incels and jealous hos who think they have the right, theaudacity, to judge my best friend and her ménage of lovers.”
I huffed out another laugh. “It's been too long, Chlo. I’ve missed you.”
“Damn right, you have. I’m coming to visit so you can set me up with… hang on… Number 12. That man is fire.”
I made a tsking noise. “The player profiles aren’t a catalog for cock,” I teased, and she just snorted.
“Whatever. What’s the point of having a bestie with insider access if I don’t use the opportunity to hit on some players and give them the cardio workout of their career?” We both laughed, until the sound trailed off. “I mean it, Nova. I’ve missed you. Don’t keep me out of the loop so long next time, okay? I’ve always got your back, always. I love you.”
