I force a big smile. “You look like a grizzly bear. Also, please stop sending me the pie emoji.”
“Nice to see you too, babe.” He swoops down and picks me up for a twirl, and several people stop and stare at us. A few guys call out and two girls run over to say hi. One of them presses her number into his hand, and he tucks it in his jacket pocket, a sly smile on his face.
I shake my head, feeling just…tired. “It just never ends with y’all.”
He gives me a look as we take off toward my dorm. “I’m twenty and male. I like chicks.”
I hold my hand up. “What if you had a girlfriend? Would you take her number then?”
He rears back. “No, of course not. That’s a hard line. I’d be true.”
I nod. “And that’s why we’re friends.”
He grins. “But I don’t have one, so I can do what I want.”
We walk down the busy sidewalk and Eric has his head down, a thoughtful look on his face.
“Want to tell me what this is about?”
He sighs slowly, and I sense he’s searching for the right words. “Um, Z.”
My stomach knots. “Figured as much.”
He looks off into the horizon. “He’s falling apart.”
“What do you mean?” My legs pick up the pace, almost to a jog, most of it nervous energy, afraid Eric is going to say something that will break my heart even more.
He keeps pace with me. “Can you slow down a minute?”
“Nope. I have to get to BB’s.”
He takes my hand and pulls me off the path.
“What?” I glare up at him and he winces.
“Look, I know he hurt you, but he’s…”
“Yeah?”
“Fucking devastated. I don’t know who he is anymore. All he does is run and work out and sleep. He had this huge fight with Reece and they’re walking around like two bulls. He’s surly and bad-tempered and just…I don’t know what to say. I can’t get in his head.”
He scratches at his jaw and looks around, almost as if he’s nervous.
I narrow my gaze. “Did he tell you not to talk to me?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure he meant it.” He blows out a breath. “Never have I seen him so strung out over a girl. He took a hammer to the work table in the garage, and shit, he never does stuff like that.”
I flinch at the image. “He doesn’t really care about me.” I’m not looking at Eric, but I feel his searching look.
“Seriously? Get real. I saw how he looked at you.”
I shake my head. “Funny, because he hasn’t tried to get in touch with me. He knows where I live. He has my phone number.”
“He cares about you.”
Then why is Eric the one here making his case for him? I want to smash something. “So you keep saying,” I snap. “Then why not tell me about her?”
“Maybe he was afraid to lose you.”
“He did lose me.”
He sticks his hands in his pockets. “You wanna know what I think? I think you know he’s crazy about you, and you’re scared.”
I frown. Is that true? I…I don’t know. At first I was afraid for my heart, but after the ice skating lesson, I was in with him. Still, a trickle of doubt drifts in, reminding me of my past, of Bennett and my father and the scared girl who will protect her heart any way she can. I remember the girl who ran away from him at the Kappa party and then at his house after we had sex in his garage.
And, in the end, wasn’t I right?
“You could have listened to him, Sugar. I was there that night, remember? You gave up pretty fast.” He studies my face.
“Thanks, Dr. Eric, but you don’t know everything. And stop eavesdropping on private conversations.”
“You were yelling—kind of hard to not hear it.” Eric closes his eyes. “Fuck, Sugar, I’m afraid he can’t finish the season without you. He’s the most lackluster piece of shit on the ice. He comes to practice, does the minimum, and leaves.”
I don’t like the images he paints in my head and I steel myself against them. “You won the last game—”
“By a hair, and he’s not playing nearly enough. Coach is keeping him on the bench most of the time.”
My hand tightens around my purse strap. “Oh, so I should just ignore his deception so you can finish out your season?”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know if that would work. I’m just coming to you as a friend to another friend who I know cares about him.”
I think about him at the fountain with Lola and—
“Everything okay here?”
We flip around and Julia stands a few feet away. It’s late afternoon and she’s ready for her shift at BB’s, although a normal person wouldn’t know just by looking at her bulky coat and joggers. I know because her hair is up in that Barbarella-style ponytail and there’s pink glitter on her eyelids. Bright pink lipstick colors her mouth, and she’s carrying her duffle, where I figure her shoes and extras are.
Next to me, Eric tenses up.
I look from him to Julia, seeing how his eyes run over her and bounce away, color blooming on his cheeks.
“You guys know each other?” I say, my voice oozing shock.
“No,” they say at the same time, both of their faces shuttering.
“Oh, really? Could have fooled me.”
They both ignore me, but I don’t care. There’s an edge to me lately, and I’m wired, ready to snap.
“Well, in that case, Julia, this is Eric, one of Z’s wingers. He calls everyone babe, likes to sing ‘Dick in a Box’, takes phone numbers from randoms, and eats cereal out of the box with his bare hands. Eric, this is Julia. She’s my roommate and if you hurt her, I will kill you slowly with one of your hockey sticks.”
“Oh,” he says, not even looking at me, his gaze on her. “Hi.”
Julia grimaces and stares down at the ground. “Hi.”
A few moments go by and no one says a word, and shit, I’m a little fascinated.
“So, you’re sure you don’t know each other?”
“Sure,” Julia says.
“Ab-so-fucking-lutely,” says Eric at the same time.
A slow blush rises on my roommate’s cheeks as she clears her throat and hooks her arm with mine. “I’m headed to BB’s. You want a ride?”
I won’t actually ride with her because she’ll be working later than me, but I say yes anyway and move away from Eric. I need distance from him.
“Sugar?” he says with a frown.
I look back, seeing the worry on his face, but I know I can’t go to Z. Willow is between us and I can’t…I can’t let that go. I give him a wry smile. “He knows where I am.”
His shoulders rise with a breath.
“I have to get to work, but text me, okay?” I say softly, not wanting to lose that connection, which is counterproductive, but it is what it is.
He gives me a nod, his gaze flickering over to Julia before he turns and walks away.
He gets just out of earshot and I can’t wait any longer.
“You and Eric? You slag.” I feel empty inside but I push out a grin.
“Never happened,” she says as we walk away.
“You lie, but I will get the truth out of you eventually.”
She throws an arm around me.
“This conversation isn’t over, Barbarella.”
She smirks. “I know.”
* * *
“What’s wrong?” Mara asks me a few days later in her office as I file some old invoices in the cabinet.
“Nothing.” I stare down at a receipt from the liquor warehouse and focus on that, ignoring the hole inside me.
“Uh-huh. I hear the Lions won their game yesterday against St. Cloud.”
I file the paperwork and slam the drawer shut. “Nice.” I guess that’s another win for us, and I’m glad. I want Z to succeed.
I feel her eagle eyes on me. “Word is your guy only played the first period.”
“Not my guy, Mara.”
“You only use my name when you’re pissed.”
“I’m not pissed,” I bite out.
She chuckles. “Listen, I know y’all are broken up, but I’ve lived here long enough to know he’s the biggest name to ever play in this state, and when he doesn’t play, something bad is going down.”
She’s prying because she cares, but I feel my defenses coming up. I plop down on the recliner and sip on the vanilla chai tea she made for me earlier.
A few minutes later, I say, “How do you know so much about hockey?”
“Just something I hear the customers say when they’re here.” She gives me a rueful look. “This town loves him. But now, I don’t know. Fans can be fickle, ya know?”
My hackles rise. If anyone bad-talks Z…
“ESPN is saying there’s a rumor he has a mental illness. One reporter claims she saw him break down at one of the away games, but of course, there are no photos to prove it.”
That must have been at Concord State. “Bitch,” I say. “What the hell is wrong with people? Can’t he ever get any peace?” I rub my temples.
“Ah, so you do care.”
I look out the window, my hand clenching my cup.
“I’m worried about you,” she says softly. “Do you want me to make you a lemon icebox pie?”