33. Renee

I”m engulfed in a double bear hug as soon as Danni and Michelle spot me. Every ounce of air is squeezed out of my body. Instinctually, I edge back, taking the brunt of the hug off my stomach. If Danni or Michelle notice, they say nothing.

To be fair, they’re a little preoccupied bombarding me with questions.

”Where have you been hiding?!”

”Did we do something wrong? You don”t return texts anymore.”

”Do we need to put ice in Weston”s skates?”

”We could file a complaint. Send him to HR hell!”

One thing about girlfriends? They”ll always have your back, no matter what.

Despite the circumstances, I laugh. It feels like the first time I”ve been able to laugh freely in forever. ”Don”t send him to HR hell,” I say. ”Shit… happens. I guess. Weston has his feelings and I have mine.”

”You lost your job over it, though.”

”Yeah! And it”s not fair he”s just able to say that he”ll stop playing and suddenly, you”re gone! He”s not that special!”

They continue talking about all the ways that Weston sucks, how they miss me, how we need to get together more often now, especially since I don”t work with them anymore. I soak up the positive attention because that shit is as rare as it gets these days. I gotta get my fix for now. If Deacon finds out I slipped out, it could mean more trouble.

If he finds out.

We grab a hot spot by the bar. Danni and Michell keep their drinks flowing. I order water.

When Danni gives me that girl, what?! look, I casually brush it off. ”I”m trying to behave these days. With everything going on, like, emotionally, you know.”

Danni”s mouth forms a soft O, and then she gives me a sagely nod. ”You know what? Smart. I respect it.”

Michelle snorts, shaking her head. Admittedly, I”m jealous of the tantalizingly tall, skinny glass of electric blue liquid she”s drinking. Even her peachy pink straw looks inviting. It screams party on the beach, hot tanned guys, and bad decisions.

But the door on that kind of life has been firmly closed for me. Daydreaming about it only makes me feel worse.

”Soooooo… since you”re not with the Firebirds anymore, what are you doing? Please tell me you”re not totally out high and dry?”

I perk up at the direction shift. ”Yeah, actually. I”m going to be the social media coordinator for Sutton Medina.”

They gasp. ”Holy shit, no way?!”

”Like, for real for real?”

I laugh, sipping on my water. ”Yeeaap. For real for real.” I neglect to point out that, technically, it”s just a smidgeon of nepotism a play. Sutton is my best friend, after all. But details, shmetails, right?

”That”s AH-MA-ZING!” Danni does a little air fist pump.

”Damn, girl—you keep this shit up, you”re gonna be bossing us around one day. When you get your own gig up and running, let us know.”

”Boss Babe Renee, here. You. Come!”

It”s a complete one-eighty compared to how Deacon responded to the news. There”s not a trace of malice in Dannie and Michelle. They”re actually celebrating my accomplishment.

My face must have fallen a little, because they both look at me, concerned.

”Hey… hey, wait, what”s wrong?” Danni asks.

Michelle is just as worried. ”Yeah, did we say something?”

I shake my head, brushing things off. ”No, you didn”t say anything. I”m fine.”

Danni and Michelle exchange one of those looks. There”s a silent conversation there, one I”m not privy to until they both shoot up from the table.

”Girl bathroom time!”

I”m given no choice in the matter. They each loop an arm into one of mine, and I”m practically dragged to the bathroom. I”m too perplexed to get out of their hold. They shoo out a woman already in there, touching up her makeup. I give her an apologetic smile as she huffs and slips out.

When she”s gone, Danni and Michelle round on me. I feel like a fifteen-year-old about to get hardcore interrogated by her parents.

”Okay, spill the beans. Something”s going on. You had a look.”

”A look?” I ask as innocently as I can.

”Mhmm. A look. A significant look.”

I decide to play dumb. ”I have no idea what you mean.”

”Oh, but you do.” Danni nods. ”Come on, Renee. Spill. What”s up? The new job should be great news. Something”s up with it.”

”Come on. You know you can tell us,” Michelle encourages.

It”s a slippery slope, inducting Danni and Michelle into the menagerie of migraines that is My Life. The words start to slip out before I can think, Fuck it, I”m already here.

”I wanted to have some… independence from the guy I”m with now,” I say.

Michelle”s eyes narrow and she glances at Danni. ”Why”s that such a big deal? He”s not some, like, weirdo trad guy, is he? Does he chain you to the radiator in the kitchen at night?”

I shrug. ”He has… opinions about women.”

They exchange another look. Another silent conversation. ”You better start explaining,” Michelle says at last with a grimace.

Danni nods again. ”Yeah, blink twice if you”re in a hostage situation.”

Oh, if you two only knew. I don”t ‘fess up to being locked in a prison I put myself into, though. Instead, I shrug. ”He”s a guy my parents really like, so I was down for giving it a chance, especially after Weston,” I hedge. ”But he… doesn”t really vibe well with the idea of his wi—his girlfriend working.”

”Sounds like a him problem and not a you problem?” Danni huffs.

Meanwhile, Michelle folds her arms. ”So, what”s the rest of his deal?” She susses out that there”s more to the story I”m not telling.

”He might have… gotten rid of my camera.”

”He ”got rid of it?” The fuck”s that mean?”

”He…” I sigh. ”He… trashed it, I guess.”

”What the fuck you mean, ‘He trashed it’?!”

I tell them about the argument, leaving out the parts that I can”t talk about. The baby, this deal, my family nightmare. I make it out to be a young lover”s quarrel. Only one of the lovers is an irredeemable chauvinist, and the other is—me.

”Renee, I don”t know about all this,” Michelle warns after I finish.

I force a smile that comes off more like a wince. ”It”s just growing pains.”

”Growing pains, my ass. Is he gonna replace your camera?!” Danni exclaims.

”He didn”t say. It’s fine; I can get another one.”

”That”s not the point, Renee.” Michelle puts her hand on my shoulder. ”I know things didn”t end well with Weston, but this… isn”t any better. I don”t think this is good for you.”

Ya don”t say. ”It was a one-time thing. Don”t worry about it. I”m not.”

Michelle frowns and Danni looks like she”s about to say something else. Then Michelle shakes her head at Danni, stopping whatever heated, feminism-fueled support rant she was about to launch into.

I”m grateful for them; I really am. I just can”t do anything about it.

”Why don”t we just put this on the backburner for now, and go back out there? More drinks—and dancing.” Michelle suggests.

Danni perks at the idea of both, even though she gives me one last glance that says, We”re circling back to this later.

We can do that, sure. I just don”t have the spoons for it now.

There”s a small line outside the bathroom when we get out. I ignore the angry, I”ve-had-to-pee-for-ages glares we get. I feel less claustrophobic out here. The bathroom was starting to feel like an interrogation cell.

I hear a chorus of triumphant roars as we step back into the main part of the bar. Male voices bellowing, ”WHOOOO! LET”S FUCKIN GOOOOOO!”

As we sit back at our table, shouts and cheers erupt from the other side of the bar. Over there, TVs are mounted on the walls. And what just so happens to be playing on them?

The current Firebirds game.

Ugh. Mood-killer.

”Aw, shit. I didn”t realize they”d be blasting this shit here tonight,” Michelle mutters. She squeezes my shoulder. ”We can leave?—”

”No, no, it”s fine,” I insist. ”We”re already here and I want to enjoy our girls” night.”

She eyes me like she”s not sure about it, but nods and lets it be. Silently, I”m grateful.

I realize the irony. When we first met, Weston had called me a stalker. Thought I was some puck bunny looking to ride his stick all the way to the bank. I hadn”t even known who he was. Now, I can”t help but take this random opportunity to just watch him.

I miss him.

Shit.

He”s a beast on the ice, like he always is. I can”t quite call it “grace,” but there”s something powerful and controlled in how he glides and commands the whole arena from goal to goal.

I want to be there. Camera in hand. Weston in the sights of my lens.

But I have no camera. And I have no Weston now, either.

So actually, never mind.

Everything seems to be going well, until Weston”s called off the ice. We”re too far away to hear what”s happening. It doesn”t seem bad. Weston”s got a grin on his face. I can”t help but feel a pang in my chest. He”s so happy, and I”m not there.

But as Hud calls him over, that grin slips off his face. It”s like someone dumped ice cold water down his spine.

Disbelief, and then panic, freeze side-by-side in his expression. Somewhere, deep down in my gut, my own nerves freeze, too.

What happened?