37. Josie

37

JOSIE

" B e careful and let me know when you get there." My fingers played with Wyatt's hair at the base of his neck. The team was set to go on another round of away games but thankfully this time was only for two days. Although it felt like they'd just come home.

"I will." Wyatt's hands rested against my lower back. The cut on his lip and forehead slowly healing. Ever since that night, things between us had intensified. Every time I looked at him, my pulse skyrocketed. Sometimes it felt like I couldn't breathe when I looked at him.

I was falling hard and fast for this man. It was beyond scary, because he was the last person I'd expected to come into my life and yet, here we were.

"Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?" His thumbs rubbed the strip of skin under my sweater.

"Yeah, us girls are going to have a girl's night tomorrow."

"Oh, a girl's night." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Laughing I shook my head. "Hate to break it to you, but when we have a girl's night, we don't have pillow fights in our underwear."

His eyes widened and he looked at me with a hurt expression. "Are you serious? What a way to ruin a guy's fantasy."

"Sorry," I giggled, softly tugging at his hair.

"I'm still going to imagine that though. Or more importantly, imagine you." The dirty smirk on his face had me rolling my eyes.

Of course he went there.

"Come on love birds, let's hit the road!" Trevor yelled from where he stood beside the team bus. Beside us, I heard Bryton curse at him while saying his own goodbye to Mila.

"I better go before Coach comes out."

I could feel myself pouting, wanting him to stay but I knew he couldn't. "Okay. Do great. I'll be cheering at home for you."

At my words he smiled even wider. "Will do, baby." My heart stuttered in my chest.

I loved it when he called me that.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. I kissed him back, letting him know just how much I'd miss him.

Before our kiss could turn into a full make out session, something that seemed to happen more often than not we pulled apart.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," he said, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"Shit heads! In the bus! Now!" A deep voice rumbled nearing us. We pulled apart and glanced over at Coach stalking for the bus. "Nice seeing you Mila and Josie." He greeted Mila and I with a soft smile, the team staring at him with stunned expressions.

He may be incredibly intimidating, but he was always surprisingly kind to me and Mila. Every time I saw Coach, he made a point to say hello, something that seemed to shock all the guys every single time.

Not my fault the coach has a soft spot for us.

"Good luck tomorrow, Coach." I smiled, which he returned before stepping on the bus.

"Did you bribe him?" Wyatt asked, the other guys standing around looking just as bewildered.

"No," I laughed. "He just likes me."

"Yeah, I don't believe you." Wyatt and Bryton shook their heads at each other.

"I better go. I'll see you in a couple of days." Pecking his lips one last time I stepped back, dropping my arms from him. Wyatt winked as he and Bryton headed for the bus. Mila and I stood there watching our men load onto the bus. As the doors closed, Mila turned to me and grinned.

"Girl's weekend!"

Music played softly in the background as I finished curling my hair in the mirror. Mila applied lipstick next to me, while Lydia sat on the edge of my bed, typing away on her phone.

"What do you think?" Tasha asked, as she stepped out of the bathroom, doing a little twirl.

"You look great," I grinned at my best friend. She wore a gorgeous, sparkling, gold dress that highlighted her tanned skin and hugged her frame perfectly. The whole right side had cut outs from the top of her ribs down to her hips, showing stripes of bare skin, and her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail with a few tendrils framing her face.

Instead of having a girl's night in, we'd decided we needed to go out and have fun. The guys had won their away game, which seemed as good an excuse as any to go out and celebrate a little.

Next to me, Mila capped her lipstick and stepped back, running her hands over her dress. She looked stunning, with her dark, curly hair cascading down her back. The all-white silk dress did amazing things for her dark skin tone, and the high slit down one side showed off her long legs.

While she went to take a picture, probably to send to Bryton, I went over to my closet to grab my heels.

"Everything okay?" I asked Lydia as I held onto my dresser for balance. I already knew I'd regret wearing them, but they matched my peach-colored dress perfectly. The fabric clung to me, and I knew if Wyatt were here, I wouldn't make it out of the apartment.

"Yeah, just a last-minute printing thing," Lydia waved me off. I was glad she'd decided to join us tonight. She'd been so busy running the magazine, trying to expand our readership, and I knew she needed a night out to just let go. And who knew? Maybe she'd meet someone. Looking the way she did, in her red silk dress that showed plenty of cleavage and leg, she'd be warding men off tonight for sure.

It only took us all a few more minutes to get ready, but we spent a good twenty minutes taking pictures. It was an unwritten rule that you can't get dressed up without taking at least one good photo. Plus, I wanted to send Wyatt a picture to congratulate him on his win.

A million and a half photos later, we gathered by the front door.

"The Uber is downstairs waiting for us. We all have our purses, phones, money?" Tasha rattled off as we each nodded. "Remember we keep an eye on each other. If someone needs to use the bathroom, we all go." Her tone left no room for argument.

As the others started filtering out the door I stayed back with Tasha. The others wouldn't have noticed, but I had—her hands shook slightly as she held onto her clutch.

"You okay to go? We can always stay home?" I knew that her decision to go to the club with us was a huge deal, and there was a good reason why she was so adamant we stay close to one another. Yet, it was her story to tell, not mine.

"I'm good," Tasha said with a forced smile, but I let it slide.

"I'll be by your side all night. I'd like to see anyone try and get through me." I lifted my arm and flexed. Tasha laughed a little and hooked her arm with mine.

"Best bodyguard ever." Arm in arm we walked out of my apartment, following the girls.

"Let's go have fun."

"Shake that ass!" Mila screamed as Tasha practically twerked on her. I threw my head back and laughed as my hips moved to the beat of the music.

The four shots of tequila I'd downed helped me relax and have fun with my friends. Sweat trickled down my back from all the dancing and bodies crowding the dance floor.

While Tasha and Mila danced together, Lydia and I grabbed hands. We kept a tight grip on each other as the crowd jostled us. Even though the club was jammed packed, I was having a blast. It'd been so long since I just let go and had fun—it was exactly what I needed.

"Shots!" Tasha yelled over to us. The other two agreed and tugged me after them.

One more shot, but that's it. Any more than that, and I knew I'd be logging some serious time in front of the toilet.

Tasha leaned over the bar and shouted at the bartender to give us four shots. I narrowed my eyes at the way the bartender ogled her and stared right at her chest. I'd said I would be Tasha's bodyguard, and I meant it. I gently moved Tasha back and stood in her place. It was no surprise I didn't get the same reaction from the bartender as he slid four shots towards us.

I didn't say a word as I grabbed them and turned my back on him to pass the shots out to our group.

"To a girl's night out," I shouted over the music, all four of us huddled together.

"To making new friends," Mila added, flashing a grin. In one go, I knocked the shot of tequila back. Swallowing the burning liquid, I tried not to cough as it slid down my throat.

Damn, there's a reason I hate tequila. No matter how many times you drink it, it still tastes like shit.

Lydia, Tasha, and Mila let out a loud ‘whoop' and we headed back out onto the dance floor.

With the new shot in my system, I found myself grinding back against Tasha. As she laughed, I was certain she'd recalled the same memory as me. The two of us at a club, back in Uni pretending to be lovers when guys wouldn't leave us alone.

Listening to the music I closed my eyes, my hands running through my hair. It took a second for my brain to register the new pair of hands at my hips. Hands that were larger than Tasha's and tugging me backwards. My eyes opened and my head snapped to the side to see a random guy grinding against my ass, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, disgusted by his touch. Sure, it's a club and dancing with strangers isn't new to me, but I wasn't here for that. I had a boyfriend, and I was there with my girlfriends.

"Not interested," I yelled over my shoulders, wiggling out of his hold but his grip was firm. I think he was drunk and mistook my getting away as me wiggling my ass back against him. He ground against me harder, and I clenched my teeth.

Now angry, I jerked my entire body away and stomped my heel on his foot. This time he let me go with a yelp. I spun around and glared at him. "I said I'm not interested."

"Then why were you grinding against me? You want it." He advanced forward but the glare on my face seemed to stop him in his tracks. When I wanted, I could have the biggest resting bitch face known to man.

"Go find another girl to grind against."

"Leave." I heard Lydia's voice from behind me. A hand grabbed mine and I instantly knew it was Tasha's. I felt better knowing I wasn't alone on the dance floor with the creep.

"Not worth it," the guy grumbled, shoving past me to find the next poor girl.

"What a dick," Mila said after the guy left.

"Thanks guys."

"We knew you could handle it, babe," Tasha grinned, but I could see the underlying concern on her face. I squeezed her hand to calm her fears. Nothing happened. I silently told her with my eyes. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave me a squeeze back.

"Some drunk guy isn't going to ruin our night. Let's dance!" I wanted a genuine smile to replace the look of concern on Tasha's face, even if it meant torturing my feet further in these heels. The other girls cheered, circling around each other.

I lost track of how long we'd been at the club. My feet were killing me, and my ears were ringing slightly from the loud music. I was sober now, sticking to water, while the others were pretty much drunk at this point.

Mila and Lydia were still out on the dance floor, while Tasha and I managed to find a table off to the side. We could still see them in front of us, sticking to our promise. I grinned at the way Mila and Lydia danced. It was a mix of grinding and…well, I wasn't sure what to call it. They were drawing a small crowd as they danced but neither seemed to notice or care, thanks to the alcohol in their systems. Tasha and I the only sober ones now.

"You're happy," Tasha suddenly spoke beside me.

"What?" I glanced over at her.

"You're happier than when I left town," Her eyes looked me over, a knowing smile on her face. I ducked my head, but not before she caught the smile playing at the corners of my mouth. She was right. I was happier. I hadn't realized just how much of a shell I'd become until I met Wyatt.

Over the past year or so, I'd retreated into myself. The passing of my dad weighed heavily on me. Everything in life seemed bland and pointless. I'd existed in a perpetual state of sadness, feeling like a piece of me was missing.

Tasha saw and tried to get me out, like we were right now, but I'd always declined. She almost didn't go to Florida, wanting to stay here with me, but I'd refused to let my sadness bring her down any more than she was. So, I'd practically shoved her out the door.

During the first week after she'd left, I buried my head in work and stayed home. Even Lydia tried to get me to do something, but I wasn't interested, preferring to sit at home in front of the television with a bottle of wine.

Until I met Wyatt.

Our chance meeting in the elevator changed everything.

In just a matter of weeks, I'd felt happier than I have in a long time. Spending time with Wyatt brought me back to my old self. The person I'd lost in university and then again after my dad died. In many ways he'd saved me and didn't even know it.

"I am happy," I admitted. "Wyatt is just…" There really weren't any words to describe him.

"You love him." Her words made my head snap back up, eyes wide.

Love Wyatt? I can't be in love with him. It's too soon. Right?

"I…I don't love him," I stammered.

Tasha placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed. "The look in your eyes says differently." Her words settled in my chest.

Was I in love with Wyatt? I liked being around him and I missed him when he was away, but was that love? I didn't think I truly knew what being in love felt like.

"I…" I struggled to find the words. "How do you know if you're in love?" I asked, just loud enough that she could hear me over the music

"Do you feel like your world would be empty without him?"

I went quiet at her words, a thousand thoughts running through my head. I wrestled with them as I tried to deny that I loved Wyatt, but whenever his face appeared in my head, everything else faded away. His smile alone was enough to make my stomach erupt in butterflies.

Before I could think more on that feeling, I felt my phone buzz in my purse.

Is Wyatt calling me?

Pulling it out, I saw the alert on my screen, and everything around me faded away as my stomach dropped and I gasped.

"Josie?" I could barely hear Tasha as she scooted closer to me, looking down at my phone "Fuck," she cursed. That was all I heard as I stared at the words on my phone.

Wyatt Boone, the star player for the Toronto Knights, was seen kissing an unknown woman as he left for the team's away game. Sources tell us it's his new girlfriend, Josie Scott. The magazine reporter was seen only hours later dancing at a club with another man. Is Miss Scott truly the one for our beloved hockey player, or if she is in it to further her career?

Attached below the article were pictures of Wyatt and I kissing and then a slightly blurry picture of me and the creep who'd hit on me.

The phone fell from my hands.