Gavin

20

" W hen you bringing Quinn back around, Vaughn?" Letty asks when we get off the ice after morning skate. "I miss her."

The coaches kicked our asses today, the price you pay when you lose in spectacular fashion like we did last game. We're usually a cohesive unit, but something was off. I chalk it up to the holidays approaching, life always feels busier from Thanksgiving to New Years, and even though we've all been doing this for so long, it's never easy to not be home with our families.

"I'm trying to get her to come with me tonight," I answer. Willa is hosting a bowling night for the team and families. A way to get together, have some fun, blow off whatever funk we've been under.

I can't see Odette bowling, but she hasn't said no. She hasn't said yes, either. But a win is a win, and I'll consider it that, unless she declines. It's been a good couple of weeks with her; I haven't seen her, but she's answered all my calls and texts.

We've been talking like friends. Little by little, I'm gaining ground. Regaining the trust she once had in me that I shit all over.

She laughs more with me now, though. There's less defensiveness in our conversations and she's starting to tell me of her escapades over the years. Like the first time she met George Clancy, one of the biggest A-list actors of our generation. She immediately disliked him, saying he was the epitome of a nepo-baby. He hated that she didn't swoon for him and pursued her for weeks, until she told him she had an STI so he would leave her alone.

Or how her first summer in the City she'd gotten an internship and couldn't go home but didn't have the money to stay, either. She slept on the floor of a friend's closet-sized apartment in Harlem. It was infested with roaches and had a single shared bathroom for the entire floor. When it got to be too much for her, she'd find some random guy at a bar to take her back to his place so she could sleep in a bed and catch a shower uninterrupted.

I hated that story, but she said it made her more determined and driven, she called it her "blood in the cut" summer. Basically, she was overwhelmed with so much anguish that she learned how to own it and focus it into another direction.

There were also the tales of the first client that she dressed for the Oscars, and the first time she released a limited collection of her own designs, something she's only ever done four times.

Odette always downplays her success by saying anyone could do it if they just keep their head in the game, but that's not true. Not the way she has, anyway. Anyone in the public eye for any length of time gets bad press or has to maneuver through a scandal or two.

Not her.

I searched and couldn't find a single negative comment about her online. Everyone that knows her, loves her. She's an enigma. Stoic, but funny. Posh, but kind. Relatable, yet unattainable…the kind of woman other women want to be and be friends with. The kind of woman men want to befriend, fuck, and wed.

"Great, she can be on my team. Her ass is going to be amazing throwing the ball," Letty says, side-eyeing me.

"Keep running that mouth and you won't make it to tonight," I grumble to his uproarious laughter.

"Lock that shit down already, man. Is your game that dead?"

"Yes," I admit. "I haven't used it in two fucking decades, asshole."

"Want some tips?"

"From you?" I laugh. "Hell, no. I've seen you slapped by more women than I've seen you checked into the plexiglass, my friend."

"Rude," he mumbles.

"Hey, take it as a compliment," Blom tells him. "I always do."

"Of course, you fucking do," I say and he gives me a grin. He doesn't have his bridge in, so his missing canine is the focus. "If Ode does come tonight, she might have Britton Macy with her."

"Fuck yes," a few of the guys say simultaneously.

"Don't be assholes," Cillian warned. "Isla and Willa like both Odette and Britton. Don't run them off."

"Run them off?" Letty asks, appalled. "We want them to be part of the family."

"You haven't even met Britton yet."

"If Odette likes her, so will I," he tells me.

"You're a chucklefuck."

"You know it and you love it about me."

I can't argue. We give each other a lot of shit, but Letty is one of the best of us. He'd do anything for any one of us, no questions asked. I wink at him, and he throws a towel at me. Then I text the woman this whole conversation is centered on.

Me:

Letty misses you.

Odette:

He misses looking at my ass.

I smile at how well she knows him after only spending one day with him.

Me:

That's all of us, pumpkin.

Odette:

I'll be there. Bringing Britton so they can obsess over her instead.

Me:

I'll pick you up at six.

I text before tossing my phone in my locker and heading for the showers, trying not to get too big of a head over her saying yes. It's a slow walk with Odette. A marathon, not a sprint. Good thing I have great stamina.

"So, you're Vaughn?" Britton Macy says when she opens the door of Odette's house to greet me. She's shorter than I expected. Otherwise, she looks exactly like what I expected, thin, with long wavy blonde hair. The type of woman you'd think of when you think of California beaches and hanging poolside under the sun.

"I am. Nice to meet you, Ms. Macy."

"Ah hell, call me Britton so I don't feel like I'm at work and you're the new make-up artist intern trying to impress me," she says.

"Last thing I want anyone to be thinking about tonight is work."

"I bet. Your last game was brutal," she says, stepping aside and letting me in. "Odette will be right down; she's finding me a coat. She didn't approve of my choice."

"Occupational hazard, I'd guess."

"Has she tried to dress you yet?" Britton asks.

"No, but I know she's helping some of the wags with dresses for an event we have coming up."

"Sounds like the Odette I know and love. I was worried Seattle would change her too much."

"You know, I think that all the things that really make her who she is have never changed," I muse. "She's still strong, vivacious, fun loving, determined. I can't see that ever changing. Or her love for fashion."

Britton stares me down for a few silent moments, the corners of her mouth slowly curling up.

"You'd treat her well, wouldn't you? If she ever gave you another chance."

"Like she always deserved," I say instantly. I'm not surprised Britton knows our history; she's been staying here with Odette since she got to town. I imagine there has been talk about the men in Ode's life. I only wish it excluded the stuffy dude.

"Well, may the odds be ever in your favor, or the force be with you, or whatever. You'll need it."

"I'm up for it," I say. "I'm not giving up without a fight."

"Have you met the other contender? Preston? He's pretty," she says, slyly.

"I have," I confirm. "I'm not worried."

"No?"

"No. She fell in love with me once. I wasn't worthy of it then. But I'm not the same person."

"Neither is she. I've never known her to give a man as much of a chance as she has him."

"Her heart is the same. That hasn't changed."

"Quit talking about me," Odette says, striding into the room looking like she's going anywhere but a bowling alley. She hands a jacket to Britton, something sparkly and multicolored. It looks straight out of a disco movie. "Here. If the paparazzi gets word of you tonight, at least you'll look the part."

"Holy shit, is this what I think it is?"

"Yes, and if you spill beer on it, I'll never speak to you again."

"I'm afraid to even try it on. There are only, like, what? Six of these left in existence."

"Four," Odette says. "Put the coat on. You may not have been born when it was made, but I think it's designed for you nonetheless."

I have no idea what the importance is, but Odette is right, Britton wears it well as she spins around after donning it.

"I need a protective bubble."

"You'll have a whole hockey team, it's sort of the same thing," I say. Odette finally turns her attention to me.

"Hi."

"Hi," I greet back, stepping up and kissing her forehead. "You look great."

"Of course, I do," she says, playfully acting scandalized at the idea that she doesn't always.

"Well, let's go then," Britton says. "I'm ready to meet these men I've been hearing so much about."

"What have you heard, exactly?" I ask, following the women out the door.

"That goalies are a little weird. Lehtinen is a handful but a sweetheart, and it's hot when y'all fight."

"Who told her that last bit?" I ask Odette as I open the car door for her.

"Probably Willa," she lies.

The guys instantly fall at Britton's feet when we get to the small bowling alley that Fane and Willa's partner has rented out for us. Britton expresses her gratitude to them, saying how much she misses going out to normal places without being swarmed by fans and people who hope to catch her doing something worthy of going viral.

She's still being crowded by Oliver, Axel, and Hugo, but she doesn't seem annoyed by it. I think she's enjoying the attention of my teammates as they play against each other on one lane.

Odette and I have been playing with Cillian and Isla, none of us taking it nearly as seriously as the rest of the group. Isla says she won't even play with her sister anymore because she's that good and it's taken all the fun out of it. But Willa's boyfriends seem to be as competitive as she is.

"We haven't seen Tori the past couple of games," Isla says. "How's she doing?"

"Great," I answer. "Loving school and living on her own. She's been busy, though, trying to get caught up on a project before her mom gets to town for Thanksgiving."

"Caroline's coming here?" Isla asks, and Odette's head turns away as if she's watching the other bowlers.

"Yeah, bringing her boyfriend to meet Tori."

"You think she'll like him?" Cillian asks.

"I do. I met him on the last trip to New York and there isn't anything not to like about the guy. He's basically head over heels for Caroline, so that's good."

"Excuse me," Odette says. "I need the restroom."

She walks off, and Cillian winces.

"Did we fuck up?" he asks.

"Nah, just some unresolved issues. I'll go check on her." I leave the couple and wait in the hallway for her.

We can't keep dancing around the situation. Whether she wants to talk about it or not, we need to, if this relationship is going to progress. Even as just friends. I can't pretend like the past didn't happen. That I didn't hurt her or have a wife for decades.

I don't want Odette to relive the past, but she needs to face it. I need her to face it.

She's startled to see me when she exits the restroom, her face still a few shades paler than I'd like it to be. She stops, and I crowd her, placing my hands on the wall behind her, one on either side of her head so I can lean in low and close.

"I'll never do anything to hurt you again, Ode. I promise that with my whole chest. Whatever you need to do to move forward with me in your life, you do it. You want to rage at me? Hit me? I'll take every bit of what you dish out," I say, rubbing my nose against hers when she tries to look down. "What I won't do is continue to play as if the past twenty years didn't happen. I know it's upsetting for you to hear me talk about her. I can't help that any more than I can help how much it kills me to know you're still seeing Preston. Or how it fucking guts me to think that you might still be having sex with him."

She does look away then, a clear confirmation that she is. I take a step back, squatting while I rake my hands through my hair a few times.

This isn't the right place for this conversation. It's not what tonight is supposed to be about for my team.

I blow out a long breath, then stand back up, staring her down.

"I deserve that, I guess," I grit out, pulling my shoulders back and craning my neck until it pops, relieving a miniscule amount of tension.

"It's not about you," she says.

"Isn't it, though?"

"Fuck off, . As if you and Caroline didn't have sex all this time. As if I owe you anything…we aren't dating. We're barely friends."

"It's more than friendship and you know it," I say. "Is he married?"

She blinks, surprised at my question.

"Separated," she says so quietly.

"Fucking hell, Ode." I clasp her chin, pulling her face to mine. "I'm right here. Right fucking here, offering you everything I have. I'd cut my own heart out and drain myself dry for just a shot at a second chance with you. Can he say the same?"

"I've never had to ask."

"Will he divorce for you?"

"Would you have?" she snaps. She has me there; up against the boards, fucked either way.