27. Sydney

CHAPTER 27

SYDNEY

I wake up squirming and breathless, my heart pounding as the steamy details of my latest dream linger in my mind. DJ's smoldering gaze as he slid his hands up my thighs, Tyler's lips trailing hot kisses down my neck …

God, it felt so real.

It's not a total surprise. My dreams the past few days have been…very realistic. Ever since that night with Tyler and DJ, it's like my subconscious can't stop rehashing every moment of our time together.

I roll over and check my phone, seeing a string of flirty texts from the boys that immediately bring a grin to my face.

DJ: "Morning gorgeous. Can't stop thinking about the way you taste…"

Tyler: "The other night was unreal, though, seriously. Round 2 tonight?"

DJ: "Calm down stud, let's win this game tomorrow and get into the playoffs first….can't be staying up all night right before a big game."

Tyler: "Fine, but don't be surprised if I find you in the locker room later."

I can't help but giggle at their boldness. It's like they've awoken this wild, insatiable side of me that I never even knew existed.

Part of me still can't believe this is really happening—that I'm really hooking up with not one, but two incredible, sexy hockey players.

I fire off some playful responses before reluctantly dragging myself out of bed to get ready for another day of trying to keep the Blizzards in line. My cheeks flush—that makes me think of the naughty things DJ whispered in my ear about "punishing" any bad behavior...

Focus, Syd .

After throwing on a pencil skirt and silky blouse, I grab my bag and float down the hall on a cloud of bliss, stopping to grab a yogurt from the kitchen.

When I close the fridge door I nearly shriek at the sight of Selena sitting at the table behind it, nursing a mug of coffee. Her amused smirk deepens at my surprise.

"Looks like someone's a little distracted this morning," she teases, eyeing my disheveled hair and probably the dopey grin I can't seem to wipe off my face. "C'mon, you're practically glowing. Who's the lucky guy?"

I grab a mug and pour myself some coffee, taking a moment to savor the rich aroma before joining her. My cheeks heat as flashes of the past few days replay in my mind— hands caressing bare skin, breathless moans, the exquisite push and pull of three bodies moving as one ...

I shake my head to clear the erotic montage.

"It's, um, a bit complicated actually," I hedge, sipping my coffee to hide my flustered expression. But Selena knows me too well.

"Ooh, I sense juicy details! Come on, you can't hold out on me now. I want the whole steamy story." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "You're my twin, you owe me this!"

I sigh, knowing resistance is futile when Selena has that gleam in her eye.

"Okay, fine. But you have to promise not to judge me."

"Cross my heart. Now give me the goods, woman!"

I take a fortifying breath. "I'm kind of...seeing two guys on the team. Together. And they're also seeing each other." I peek over at her, bracing for her reaction.

Selena blinks for a moment, processing. Then she throws her head back and laughs, loud and uninhibited.

"You're in a throuple? Oh my god, Syd, that's the last thing I ever thought you'd say! What is it about that team and polyamory!?"

Selena's laughter slowly subsides as she fixes me with a genuine smile.

"Seriously though, I'm so happy for you," she says. "It's about damn time you let yourself have some fun after everything you've been through. If getting sandwiched between two hunky hockey players is what puts that spring in your step, then you do you, boo!"

I flush crimson, nearly choking on my coffee.

"Selena!" I sputter. "It's not just about the sex. I mean, don't get me wrong, that part is…unreal. But DJ and Tyler...they're amazing guys, inside and out."

I fiddle with my mug, a soft smile playing on my lips as I think about how attentive and caring they've been, both as friends and now as lovers.

"They make me feel special. Safe. Like I can finally be myself again after walking on eggshells for so long with Paul."

Selena reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, her expression sobering. "Oh honey, I'm so glad to hear that. You deserve to be treated like a queen after putting up with that asshole's crap." Her gaze grows pointed and protective.

"I know I do." I squeeze her hand back, feeling a surge of gratitude for my ride-or-die sister. "And you know what? I think I'm finally starting to believe that myself."

Selena grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief once more. "Atta girl! Embrace your inner goddess."

She's still chuckling as I head out the door for work. I shake my head, her unwavering support only widening the smile on my face.

For the first time in a long time…I'm happy.

My day starts off like any other—I have a great session with Jason, who is all smiles lately. Then one of the team members shows up unplanned to talk through his stress and learn some new coping strategies.

After lunch, though, I drum my fingers on my desk, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time in five minutes.

Mikey is late for our session, a disturbing reminder of our early days. I've been sitting here for 20 minutes already and—I check again—there's no email from him, nothing to say that he's on his way or even that he won't be able to make the appointment.

Just as I'm about to send him a text, he barrels through the door, disheveled and scowling.

"Nice of you to join me, finally," I say evenly, taking in his bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes. It can't be…is he using right now?

He slumps into the chair across from me, mouth twisting into a sneer. "Don't give me that condescending therapy bullshit, Sydney. I know what you really are."

My stomach clenches. I force myself to meet his glare head-on. "And what is that, exactly?"

"A slut who spreads her legs for any pro athlete who looks her way. God, I can't believe I ever took you seriously as a counselor. What a joke."

His words slice through me like razors.

I grip the edge of my desk, knuckles turning white, willing myself not to flinch. How dare he speak to me this way, belittle my credentials, my profession, everything I've worked for?

Tears prick the back of my eyes but I blink them back furiously.

"Mikey, you're out of line." My voice wavers and I curse myself for it. "If you're not here for a productive session, then?—"

"Oh, I bet you want to be real productive, huh? Get on your knees and suck my?—"

"Get out!" The words burst out of me, my whole body shaking with rage and humiliation. "Get the hell out of my office, now!"

Mikey shoots to his feet, kicking over the chair as he does. "With fucking pleasure. Have fun whoring yourself out, bitch."

The door slams behind him like a gunshot. I sink back in my chair, burying my face in trembling hands.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god .

Sobs burn my throat as hot tears finally spill over, smearing my mascara.

How could he treat me like that? Call me those vile things? I search my spinning thoughts, trying to pinpoint where I went wrong, how I failed him as a therapist.

The glazed look in his eyes, the slurring...he had to be high or drunk or both. And I couldn't get through to him, couldn't do my damn job.

Failure .

The word pulses in my head like a migraine.

Whore. Failure. Slut. Worthless .

It's too much. I need to get out of here, away from this place that suddenly feels tainted.

Grabbing my purse with numb fingers, I stumble out to my car, not even bothering to lock up behind me. Sobs wrack my body the whole drive home until I'm hiccupping and snotty.

Pathetic .

The first thing I do when I get to my apartment is peel off my clothes and jump in a scalding shower, trying to wash the shame from my skin. It doesn't work. Afterwards, I pull on my fuzziest plaid pajamas and crawl onto the couch, queuing up some brainless reality show on my laptop.

I need to disappear for a while, to forget the sting of Mikey's accusations and the ruins of my self-worth scattered at my feet.

Hours later I'm crumpled on the couch, the screen of my laptop frozen where I've paused the episode of a vapid luxury real estate show, unable to focus on the drama. My eyes are puffy and sore from crying, my throat raw.

Mikey's cruel words keep echoing in my head, an endless, taunting loop.

The sound of the door opening and footsteps walking inside makes me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. Oh god, is Selena back with her latest date? I can't handle making small talk tonight .

I sink farther into the couch and tug the blanket up over my head, hoping they'll just pass me by in the dark.

"Syd? Why are you hiding here in the dark?"

Embarrassed, I lower the blanket to see Selena and Emma settling down onto the couch on either side of me, their faces etched with concern.

"I'm fine," I choke out, pushing the hair out of my face and sitting up straighter. "Just a rough day at work, that's all."

Emma raises an eyebrow. "Bullshit. What's going on?"

I shake my head, clamping my mouth shut as more tears threaten to fall. I can't burden them with this.

But Selena reaches out and squeezes my hand. "Syd, come on. It's us. We're here for you, no matter what."

Her gentle touch breaks my resolve. The words start pouring out of me like a waterfall.

"It's Mikey. That asshole rookie I told you about. He...he called me a slut today. And a whore. Somehow he knows about me and DJ and Tyler, I guess."

Emma sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes narrowing. "He did not."

I nod miserably. "It was so humiliating. And it brought up all this shit from—from what happened with Paul."

Selena's jaw tightens at the mention of my douchebag ex. "That fucker. I swear, if I ever see him again?—"

"It's not even about him," I interject. "Not really. It's just...god, maybe Mikey's right. Maybe I am a slut for being with the guys. Maybe I'm not cut out for this job if I can't even keep my hands off the hockey players. And not even just one of them!"

"Listen to me," Emma says fiercely, leaning in. "There is nothing wrong with loving multiple people. I would know." She smirks, lightening the mood. "Dating pro athletes isn't easy, trust me. Everyone thinks they get to have an opinion on your sex life. But screw them."

"Damn straight," Selena chimes in. "You're amazing at what you do, Syd. What happened with Paul...that kind of shit messes you up. It takes time to heal. Be patient with yourself. Don't let some little drunk prick make you doubt yourself."

I let their words wash over me like a soothing balm. Emma and Selena always know exactly what to say.

I may be a mess, but at least I have my sister and my best friend to pick me back up.

"You're right," I say finally, squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath. "I'm done letting Mikey walk all over me. First thing Monday, I'm going to Coach Daniels and making a plan for an official intervention. We need to set some firm guidelines and warn Mikey about consequences. This kind of behavior is unacceptable."

"That's our girl," Emma grins, and walks to the fridge to grab a bottle of white from the door. "And speaking of interventions…I think this calls for a glass of wine."

I hiss at her bad joke and move to jokingly swat her but she dances out of my reach.

Thank god for the girls. As Emma pours wine and Selena launches into a hilarious story about her latest Tinder disaster, the knot in my chest starts to loosen.