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Now, even in the stands, she seems like she’s a thousand miles away from me. But still, she’s here. And that counts for something.
I can’t believe she actually came to watch me. Not wanting to pressure her, I hadn’t brought it up since dinner with my parents. But she showed up. All on her own.
For a fake girlfriend, she’s doing pretty damn good.
I skate off, heading to warm up. This is our opening game, and we need to look our best. It will set the tone for the season. It’ll show the other teams that we aren’t to be underestimated. If we instill fear now, it’ll carry through much of the season. We need that.
Yesterday, I contacted Jake, my dad’s friend who happens to be a private investigator, and he agreed to look into Sutton’s family for me. I was sort of shocked my family hadn’t already done it after the falling-out. But he told me to give him a few days and he’d have all he could find on Helena. Personally, I don’t think there’s anything worth looking for. She’s just a shallow, materialistic, coldhearted woman who isn’t qualified to be a mother. But I’m holding up my end of the deal. And I want to help Sutton find what she’s looking for.
I sneak glances at her every now and then, making a mental note that she should be wearing my jersey. That’s what a good girlfriend would do, and if we want to sell this, she needs to have my number on her back.
Maybe after the game too. With nothing else under it.
Images of her in heels, wearing nothing but my jersey on and nothing underneath it, assault my brain. Holy fuck, I have no idea where these thoughts are coming from. It’s not appropriate. I mean, I’m trying to get Paige back, for fuck’s sake. That’s what this entire thing with Sutton is meant for—to make Paige jealous.
So, why the hell does it suddenly seem like it’s not about Paige and it’s more about Sutton now?
Or worse, more about me.
Sutton
I watch Hunter play, and suddenly, I’m seeing him differently. As an athlete myself, it’s not hard to notice the drive he has while he’s on the ice. And to be honest, I respect him even more right now because I recognize the hunger he has when he plays. And it’s the same when I dance.
I can tell myself dancing has always been for my parents, but deep down, I know I love it too. Every cell in my body has been touched from dancing. And maybe I’ve been trying to convince myself that I don’t love it as a coping mechanism since I know that my career is going to be cut short because my lungs hate me.
Hunter moves on the ice so flawlessly. He isn’t fatigued. He doesn’t need to stop and take a puff of an inhaler to keep himself from spiraling out of control. I’m envious of him because for him, the sky is the limit.
“I’m going to get a soda. Anyone else want anything?” Lana says, standing up.
“Can you grab me a Coke?” Ryann tosses back.
“I wouldn’t pass up a Kit Kat bar.” I give her a sweet smile, handing her some cash. “You rock.”
Once she’s gone, Ryann looks at me. “Okay, spill it. Spill. The. Fucking. Tea.”
Giving her a side-eye, I feel my chest tighten. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“Homegirl, I know you didn’t go from hating Hunter Thompson to exchanging saliva outside my bedroom window the other night.” She nudges my side. “What the hell is going on? Did you see his dick and it was huge and you couldn’t resist?”
I don’t want to lie to Ryann. I really like her. I like Lana too. But if I tell Ryann, I’d be betraying Hunter in a way because he and I made this arrangement together.
“I guess I just…started seeing him differently,” I tell her, looking at the ice again.
A part of me knows that the words I just said aren’t complete bullshit. I am seeing him differently. Slowly, I’m feeling things that I know I shouldn’t be feeling.
“Mmhmm,” she drawls. “Sure you did.” She pokes her finger into my arm. “Something is fishy here, and I’m going to figure it out.”
Hunter flies down the ice, keeping the puck safe. No one seems to be capable of catching him. And with one move, he hits it in, sending it into the goal just before his teammates swarm around him.
I glance over to where Paige stands, cheering as she jumps up and down.
And in that moment, Hunter looks up, giving a smile as he holds his stick up.
And that smile…isn’t at his ex-girlfriend, who he’s trying to win back.
It’s at me. And only me. And that makes my heart pound in my chest.
Hunter
