20. Emma

Anna ushers Fiona out the door when I flop down onto the sofa with a loud groan. The door bangs shut, and Anna turns to me, arms crossed, looking like she is about to give me the third degree.

"Well?" she taps her foot. "What did you do?"

"I fucked Lachlan McLeod." There it's out there with no takey-backeys.

There is a slight pause before Anna's eyes go wide, and she sucks her cheeks with a look of impressed surprise. You know, like the GIF. That one. You know the one. Yeah, that's Anna right now. "Ohhhhh," she breathes. "In the loos?"

"Outside," I moan.

"Outside the pub? In the car park?" She hurries over and sits next to me.

"Well, sort of, yeah. Against the wall."

"How?"

"You want details?" I ask, a bit stunned that she needs a drawing with crayons.

"I mean, how did this happen so quickly."

"I'm a bit tipsy, so was he, I think. There is an intense connection between us. It's weird but fuck, it's strong, and then he cornered me in the corridor, smelling all gorgeous and looking like an ice hockey Captain and then I grabbed him and kissed him."

There's that face again.

"You kissed him? Emma!"

"I know, but he's so fucking hot and I'm weak."

"Well, you'd have to be Xena Warrior Princess level strong not to want to kiss him," she muses, and we both drift off for a few seconds as we think—at least, I am—about Xena and Lachlan kissing.

"Did he wear a condom?"

"No."

She squints at me. "Are you on the pill?"

"Obviously," I snap at her. "I was with Carrick up until a few days ago, and I'm not a fucking idiot. Wine and hot hockey-ness aside, I wouldn't have had sex with him otherwise."

"But no condom?" She gives me a ‘squee' look that really does not endear her to me.

"It was a spur of the moment, and he asked for my consent. I gave it."

"So, what now?"

"Nothing. It was a one-niter."

"How do you know?"

"For two reasons. Look at him and look at me and also, I don't want to get into a relationship with him. I'm his boss. How will that look before I've even stepped foot into the arena? No. This was a fun time, and that's it. One and done. Okay?"

She shrugs. "Okay. But can I say one last thing?"

"Do you have to?" I whine.

"Do not ever sell yourself short, Emma Louise Thornton. You are fucking gorgeous."

"Look, I'm not saying I'm a hound, I'm just… me, and he is just him. You know?"

"Yeah, I know." She sighs and sits back. After a pause, she whispers, "Was it good?"

"Sooooo fucking good!" I squeal, clapping my hands as I sit up. "Fuck, he knows how to do the deed."

Anna giggles like a schoolgirl, bouncing on the couch, but then goes sober. "Keir was not impressed when you two disappeared."

"Oh?" I ask, eyebrow raised, but then shrug. It doesn't matter if Anna is reading too much into that. The same rule applies. They saw me, their new boss, out on a boozy night; they targeted me, cornered me, flirted with me and then one of them got their way with me. What's done is done. It's time to move on. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I need to stop fucking about. Tomorrow, I need to go to the rink, show my face, sit in that office and look like I know what I'm doing. Maybe ask Dad to meet me there so I can have backup. Then I need someone, any fucking one, to show me how this game is played like they're talking to a two-year-old so that I can figure this shit out."

"Sounds like a plan, boss lady." Anna holds her hand up for me to slap, which I do.

With a decisive nod, I stand up. "I'm going to bed. I don't want to be groggy when I show up."

"Text your dad now to meet you there," she says, waving me off.

I nod and pull my phone out of my bag to text Dad. It's late, but he will get it when he rises with that damned rooster, and we can set a time to meet.

Stripping off when I get to my room, I look at myself in the mirror and turn my head to see my lumps, bumps, and curves. My huge tits that give me backache and wobbly tummy but who cares? No man has ever dismissed me because I'm too fat, or at least they haven't said that to my face. Although, maybe that's what Carrick was thinking all along, and that's why he hooked up with Anti-Emma.

Sod it. What Carrick thinks doesn't matter anymore. It's a new dawn, a new day, and I'm feeling surprisingly good. Pulling on my jammies, I hit the sack with visions of ice skates and hockey pucks doing figure eights in my head.

The rooster'scrow is nowhere near as appealing as the beep of my phone the next morning. I squint at the screen—Dad's replied with a thumbs up emoji, like he doesn't know that really means ‘fuck you' and a time to meet. 9:00 AM on the dot. It's 7:00 AM now, so that gives me two hours to get presentable and drive to the arena in town.

I roll out of bed, seeing a message from Keir on my Instagram.

Debating if I should open it, I check the time stamp. Just after midnight. That is not a good sign.

Sighing, I open it, relieved to see that Lachlan hasn't messaged. Hopefully, he agrees with me that this was a one-night thing, and we can all move forward.

Keir's message is short and sweet.

Hope you're okay. Keir.

I'm guessing Lachlan told him what happened, and now I read way too much into this DM as I chew my lip. Has Lachlan told him that I'm just a one-off? I know that's what I want, and I want him to want that, too, but I don't want Keir to think that I'm upset about that.

"Ah, fuck it," I mutter and chuck the phone on the bed, not replying because I have zero clue what to say. Besides, I have to get a move on.

Heading for the shower, I pull my jammies off and step into the warm embrace of the water. Showers, I've always believed, are like a reset button for the soul—washing away last night's debauchery with every drop.

I lather up, scrubbing away, and by the time I finish, my skin is pink and tingling, and I feel marginally more human.

Drying off, I wrap my hair in a towel-turban and choose my battle armour for the day—a smart navy blazer over a crisp white shirt that doesn't do much to up-play my titties, but hell, they're hard to miss, and it's not like I can leave them at home. Unfortunately. Paired with dark jeans and boots that give me an extra inch of height, I'm almost ready to face whatever today throws at me.

Drying my hair quickly and applying a bit of make-up, I get dressed and with a quick glance at the clock, I head down to the kitchen. The cottage is quiet so Anna must still be sleeping. I try to be quiet as I make a quick cup of coffee and some toast, which I practically inhale before grabbing my phone and bag and dashing out the door.

Straight into a downpour.

"Oh, fuck you," I grouse. "The sun was out a minute ago!"

Heading back in for my waterproof, I sling it on and rush back out, diving into the Mini, which has had a much-needed rest after its long trek north, and fire it up.

She, I think she's a she, leaps into action, ready to move after so long of being stuck in a garage in London.

Flicking the wipers on, this rain doesn't look like it's going anywhere.

The roads are quiet, giving me too much time to think about Keir's message. He seems sweet and a far less smooth mover than his mate, Lachlan. He did offer to help me with the team if I had any questions, so maybe it would be an idea to reach out and ask. It couldn't hurt, let's put it that way.

The rain hammers on the windscreen as I navigate towards town, trying not to think about last night. By the time I park up, the rain is chucking it down so hard, Mini's wipers can't keep up. With a sigh, I turn off the engine and sit there for a second, gathering my thoughts.