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The camera cuts to a close-up image of the player they’re speaking about, and my stomach bottoms out.
“Damn. Now that I’m here for.” The sound of Emma’s voice reminds me of talking underwater, muffled and hard to understand.
It’s him.
Sure, I had a hunch it could be him. It’s not like I didn’t know he went pro. I even figured this day would come. But that hasn’t stopped me from spending the years since he left avoiding any reminder of him. It was pointless.
His memory is etched into my soul, burrowed so deep that no matter what I do, he’ll always be there. And that pisses me off.
He broke his promise.
He left and never thought of me again.
He didn’t protect me.
I watch for a second, and I’m not sure I even blink. Now that my carefully constructed plan to erase him from existence is foiled, I can’t help but hang on to every word as they discuss their guesses for what will happen during the playoffs.
The image on the screen changes to a video of him skating across the ice with effortless grace—the hockey player I had come to know so well.
Glad to see he’s fared better than me.
“You okay over there?” Emma’s tone is careful and concerned.
Am I that obvious?
Shaking my head, I turn to Emma. Her eyes meet mine, narrowing slightly to study me.
“Yeah. Why?” I answer as I hug my knees to my chest.
Real smooth, Cass. Now it’s totally obvious you aren’t.
She inclines her head. “Well, for starters, your shaking head, body language, and words. Everything seems to conflict.” She widens her eyes in an Are you going to argue? expression. When I don’t, she continues. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s the deal?”
A part of me wants to make up some lame lie in an effort to keep this one thing to myself. If for no other reason than to attempt a second try at erasing him from my thoughts.
Never gonna happen.
I take a deep breath and go with the truth. “I know him.”
She blinks and splutters before finally getting herself together.
“Hold up.” Her hand lifts. “You know who?” Her nose is scrunched, and her eyes are narrowed.
“Him.” I drop my legs back down to the floor and point at his picture frozen on the screen as they continue to talk about just how incredible he is.
I once thought he was, too.
Two minutes later, Em still looks like a deer caught in headlights. Her green eyes are wide, and she shakes her head back and forth in disbelief. It looks like she has a halo around her thanks to her swaying honey-blonde hair. “You know that man? The absolute hottest guy in hockey.”
I roll my eyes despite my turning stomach. “What do you know about hockey, Emma?”
“Answer the damn question, woman.”
“Yes,” I mutter before reaching toward the coffee table, grabbing my glass, and taking a long swig of the now warm tequila.
I don’t even react as it burns, sliding down my throat. I’m officially numb.
“You know a professional hockey player?” she questions.
