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Monroe
“Please, please, please,” Ari was pleading with me. He was currently on his knees in the hallway outside of where our seats were located. Trying to convince me to wear his jersey for at least one of the periods.
“Do you have a death wish?” I drawled as Blake and Walker huffed out laughs.
“Possibly. But that’s besides the point. I need this. Walker needs this. Your bestie Blake needs this.”
Walker put up his hands in front of him. “I want it on the record that I amnota part of this.”
Ari rolled his eyes so dramatically, they almost disappeared. “Of course, you don’t want to be a part of this, Disney, you little simp.”
“I just don’t want Lincoln mad at me.”
“Sigh. Fine. I will tell Lincoln you weren’t a part of this.”
“How are you going to do that if you’re dead?” quipped Blake.
“Exactly,” I nodded seriously.
“Monroe. This is all I want for Christmas,” Ari pleaded…somehow still on his knees.
There were flocks of people staring at us and I was starting to get embarrassed.
“For the next five years!” he said louder, causing even more people to stare.
“Fine,” I hissed. “Just get up!”
Ari had a smug expression on his face as he slid smoothly to his feet.
“Thank you.”
“We are notbestiesanymore,” I told him.
“Please. I’m lovable. You and Lincoln love me.” He pulled Blake into his side. “Tell them I’m loveable.”
“You are so loveable,” she purred, hearts in her eyes.
So cute.
“I’m right here,” groaned Walker.
“We’re well aware, bro,” Ari snarked, blowing him a kiss.
“Let’s go in,” I said with a sigh as I slipped on Ari’s old Dallas jersey.
We walked into the stands, making our way down to the second row where our seats were located.
A crisp, almost metallic aroma of freshly cut ice hung in the air. It mingled with the earthy undertones of the wooden boards that encased the rink. The sounds of skates slicing through the ice greeted us, sharp, rhythmic hisses that reverberated through the arena. The murmur of the crowd filled the air, a constant hum of anticipation and excitement. The voices of fans, young and old, blended together in a chorus of cheers and chatter.
It was amazing how it all had become so familiar to me, this world I’d never imagined before.
Lincoln’s gaze locked with mine and butterflies cycled through me. The urge to reach out and touch him was a beating drum in my chest. Judging by the way he was staring at me—he felt the same way.
I’d missed him even in the few hours we’d been a part.
I loved him so much it hurt.
And I didn’t think that was ever going to change.
