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“That was bad,” Ryan says, his voice laced with humor as Blake struggles to stifle his laughter.
And I match his smile, finding myself drawn to his carefree expression.
“I don’t know. I kind of like it.” Blake’s mouth twitches as he holds my gaze.
“Please,” Maddy huffs. “My girl can and will take care of herself.”
“Can I watch?” Blake asks, eyebrow quirked.
My mouth drops open, but a few teammates interrupt before I can respond.
Blake’s touch never leaves my back as the conversation flows around us, and his presence is comforting and reassuring. It’s a small gesture, but it anchors me. Even when Maddy drops the bombshell.
“Not that it should matter, but Juliette’s here. You find me if she causes trouble.”
“I have a feeling I’ll run into her a lot, considering she follows the hockey team around.”
“Yeah, but don’t let her get into your head.”
“I won’t.” I take a sip of whatever concoction is in this drink, trying to exude the confidence I know lives inside me. I can’t keep letting her intimidate me.
“Good, because she isn’t worth the real estate space in your head.” The beat changes to Maddy’s favorite song. She squeals. “Ooh, let’s go dance.”
Definitely not feeling that brave. “No, but I know that’s your jam. Get out there. I think I see Janet from class.”
“Are you sure?” She stands and smiles but falters when she glances at Ryan and Blake. Looking back at me, she says, “Okay, but if we get separated, don’t wait for me. I don’t think I’m coming home.”
“Seriously?”
Her laughter trails behind her, and it isn’t long before she’s out there with a group from Organic Chemistry.
“Blake Morton, as I live and breathe!” The voice cuts through the noise, melodic and sure. I feel his fingers tighten before they slip away from my back. I’m unaware who this gorgeous bombshell is, but she has legs for days, her red dress clinging like a second skin, and that smile. That smile knows secrets about Blake that I can only guess at.
“Sarah,” Blake greets her, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. “Didn’t think you’d grace this party with your presence.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Her laughter is a chime, light and clear. She touches his arm, a gesture intimate and familiar, and I watch the way his biceps tense beneath her fingertips. Is it a dance of old flames still flickering? I search for Ryan, but he’s gone. He must’ve slipped out undetected.
“Looks like the Wildcats are gunning for glory this year.” She leans in, the words for him alone—or so she intends. My ears betray me, refusing to unhook from their exchange.
“Glory’s a fickle friend.” He shrugs, the motion casual, but there’s a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before. “Takes more than luck to make it to the NHL.”
“Confidence suits you.” Sarah tilts her head, a strand of her blond hair slipping over one eye. She brushes it back, a move practiced and perfect. “Always has.”
“Confidence gets you off the bench,” he replies, a laugh in his voice, but there’s a hardness in his eyes, blue depths holding on to dreams bigger than this room, this night.
I’m a statue among dancers, forgotten. Heat creeps up my neck.Jealousy?No, it can’t be. Yet there it is, raw and bitter on my tongue as I watch them. It took one seductive bombshell to make him forget about me sitting beside him.
“Remember that night after the finals?” She nudges him playfully, speaking in a language of inside jokes and shared memories. “You, me, and a bottle of victory champagne?”
“Hard to forget.” His chuckle rumbles a low sound that carries hints of nights I’ve never known with him. And why should it sting? What we have is all a game—a play-acted romance. Yet, I can’t deny the feeling. It’s there whether or not I admit it.
“Seems like you’re doing well for yourself.” Her gaze flicks to me, then back, a challenge issued without a word.
“Doing my best,” he says, and I wonder if there’s a double meaning, a secret message in those three words that only Sarah can decipher.
“Always did have a thing for brunettes.” Her voice may be a tease, but the hand lingering on his forearm is deliberate.
“Guilty as charged,” he admits, but there’s a shift, a subtle realignment, as he leans slightly closer to where I sit. A silent assertion, or perhaps a plea.
