Playing for Keeps(9)

 

And despite the sheer craziness of arts and crafts time, I really am proud of them. I love being a preschool teacher. From nine to four every day, I’m responsible for eight little people who completely adore me. I’m greeted with hugs in the morning, I get the honor of bandaging scraped knees and soothing hurt feelings, and there’s usually someone who tells me I’m pretty. All in all, it’s not a bad workday. Plus, we get snack time. I’m all about snack time. Today we had animal crackers. They’re my secret weapon when I really need the kids to listen.

 

“Look at mine, Miss Lise!” Carter calls out—completely forgetting the lesson I taught him on using his inside voice.

 

I kneel down so we’re at eye level. “It’s wonderful,” I say in a low voice. “I can tell you worked very hard.”

 

He beams up at me. “I sure did.”

 

“Mommy’s going to have something beautiful to decorate her fridge.”

 

I grin as I move across the room to help the children place their masterpieces in the drying rack. I love these little humans. I mean, yeah they’re like mini crazy drunk people, but I adore them all the same.

 

I’m completely in my element managing the chaos of removing eight tiny smocks, and supervising the washing of sixteen little hands, and not even the text I got earlier can dampen my mood. Which is strange considering the contents of said text message. And yeah, it’s probably a bit alarming, but I literally felt nothing when I looked down at the words Andy sent to me earlier.

 

He’d broken up with me over text, saying he thought we’d be better off as friends. I’d replied with the thumbs up emoji. If that doesn’t tell you how broken I am, nothing will. It might have set the world record for the world’s fastest—and least engaging—breakup.

 

But I’d texted Becca and she rounded up the girls, and so tonight after work, we’re meeting for happy hour at one of my favorite places. The guys have practice tonight, and so I haven’t told Owen about my breakup with Andy yet, but it’s hardly front page news. Yeah, I’d dated him for a couple of months, but I’m hardly upset about it. But that doesn’t mean I won’t let my girlfriends spoil me with cocktails and appetizers tonight.

 

 

 

“A round of shots?” Sara asks, eyebrows raised in concern across the table.

 

I set my menu down and shake my head. “It’s not that kind of a breakup.”

 

“Are you denying us a perfectly good reason to drink?” Sara is a couple of years older, the same age as my brother and Justin, and she’s an attorney. “Fine, we’ll celebrate then. To being young, single and open to new adventures.”

 

Becca is seated beside me, with Sara and Bailey across from us.

 

“That’ll work. I just want something yummy that will numb my brain.” I glance at the drink specials again.

 

“Something numby then. Coming right up.” Not one to wait around for our server to show up, Sara marches up to the bar to put our order in.

 

We’re seated near the bay windows and the setting sun and the gray drizzle makes me want to curl up in a cozy sweater and drink hot chocolate, but gossiping and drinking cocktails with my girlfriends is a very close second. I’d asked Becca not to say anything to the girls after my night with Justin. I didn’t think I could handle three sets of sad eyes peering at me with pity. And I’m thankful she’s kept it to herself. Losing your virginity to someone who doesn’t even remember it isn’t exactly a high point in life.

 

We’re halfway through our first round when the server finally comes over to check on us. Becca promptly orders half a dozen appetizers, including the steamed dumplings I love, while Sara gets us another round of drinks.

 

I love my friends.

 

We trade stories about our workdays, and Becca supplies gossip from the hockey team. She works as an assistant to the team owner and always has the best gossip. Apparently last season’s rookie was released during the off-season for boinking the coach’s daughter. Whoops. Way to fuck up your pro-career in three seconds flat, buddy.

 

We’re all pleasantly buzzed when the atmosphere in the bar suddenly shifts. Hushed whispers fall over the tables surrounding us and my eyes swing over to the doors just in time to see four hulking hockey players entering the bar. It’s my brother and Justin flanked by Teddy and Asher. These guys would cause a stir wherever they go—they’re young, fit and attractive, but in this city, they’re practically gods. Being professional athletes and part of a popular winning team will do that I guess.

 

I hadn’t known to expect them, but this bar is near the rink. I guess they’re grabbing a drink after practice.

 

Becca half stands and waves them over and the guys get busy pulling another table up to join ours. “I texted Owen that we were here,” she says. And then she meets my eyes. “Oh.”

 

Yeah. Oh. I know Becca and Owen are good friends, but she should have realized that inviting him here meant Justin would most likely tag along.

 

My eyes make a greedy sweep of his tall frame without my brain’s permission. His denim clad thighs are muscular and powerful and his long-sleeve t-shirt stretches tautly across his broad chest. He could pass for a superhero. Or maybe he’s the villain?

 

It doesn’t matter how attractive he is. He’s broken and I need to move on. Period, end of story.

 

I’ve gotten really good at avoiding him, and when he takes a seat at the opposite end of the table, I release the little breath I’d been holding.

 

The guys order drinks and our appetizers are delivered.

 

“To Andy, the douche, for freeing Elise up so she can move on to bigger and better things in her future…” Becca says, hiccupping a little at the end of her toast.

 

We clink glasses and everyone drinks except for me. I’m too busy figuring out how to discreetly kick Becca under the table.

 

My brother meets my eyes across the table. “You broke up?”

 

I shrug, and open my mouth to respond just as Becca leans forward.

 

“He dumped her. Via text message,” she says, a little too loudly. “What kind of a garbage person does that?”

 

Sara shakes her head and slides Becca’s drink away from her. “Jesus, Becs. I’m cutting you off.”

 

My cheeks burn with the attention of the entire table now looking at me—notably Justin. His blue gaze feels hot and makes me jittery like there’s suddenly a million butterflies dancing the cha-cha inside my stomach. Ignore it, my brain demands.

 

I raise my martini glass and take a sip of the potent cocktail. “Nothing a little alcohol can’t fix.” I force a fake grin. And then my eyes meet Justin’s across the table. That was a bad idea. He looks so intense and serious. And he’s frowning at me. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, and God, I’d give anything to smell him. Which is fucked up, I know that. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine stupidly still wants him.

 

Even after everything that’s happened. Or shit, maybe it’s because of everything that’s happened, hell I don’t know. Or maybe Andy breaking up with me out of the blue hit me harder than I thought. I force my eyes away from Justin’s and bring my drink to my lips, only to discover it’s already gone.

 

When did that happen?

 

Justin raises one hand, summoning the waitress to return, I hear him ordering another drink. There’s only a glass of ice water in front of him, but he tips his chin toward me and the perky waitress nods. Then he orders another plate of dumplings, instructing her to deliver them to me. What the hell? Why is he being so nice to me when he’s avoided me like the plague the entire summer?

 

Actually let’s not get carried away. Nice is a relative term. The dude hasn’t said more than half a dozen words to me in the months since we slept together. It’s a freaking miracle that Owen hasn’t noticed. Of course we act the part well, we laugh at all the right times, and take all the good natured ribbing as though nothing has changed between us. Then again, maybe Justin really doesn’t remember. Maybe he’s not pretending at all. Maybe it’s just me.

 

A few minutes later, a fresh cocktail appears in front of me and Justin watches me take my first sip. My hands are shaky and it has zero to do with the alcohol I’ve already consumed. It’s with great effort that I set the glass back down without any of the contents sloshing over the side. Next, a steaming plate of dumplings appears at the table, and Justin has to bat the hands away from them.

 

“Hands off, fuckers. Those are for Elise.”

 

I accept the plate he passes down the table. The guys did polish off most of the appetizers we ordered. But still, Justin remembered these were my favorite.

 

“Thanks,” I murmur weakly, not wanting to make a big deal of his thoughtful gesture.

 

I’m sure it’s just a case of him wanting to be nice to the girl who just got her heart broken. Only my heart’s broken for him and not Andy, but I can’t say that. Only Becca knows the truth.

 

She helps herself to one of my dumplings and smiles. “That was awfully sweet of Justin.”