Page 80 of Scarred

“Aren’t they all,” Sophia snorts.

“I met him a few weeks ago when he dropped his daughter off at my dance studio. She was the new student I was telling you about at Rusty’s.” They nod their heads, fully invested in my story. “I felt something between us even then, but could tell he was guarded. Plus, I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, so I ignored it.”

“I can tell you from experience that ignoring it never works,” Sophia laughs.

Sophia was Max’s kindergarten teacher. Travis was a single dad back then and had just moved to Crystal Isle. They had a wild night together, not knowing they were already connected by Max. Things definitely got complicated when they finally realized it, so I know she gets where I’m coming from.

“I already figured that part out,” I chuckle, continuing my story. “It got more impossible to ignore when he walked into the yoga studio because he also happened to be my new private client.”

“Oh, my God,” Emma giggles, flying a hand to her mouth.

“This just gets better and better,” Sophia laughs.

“What did you do?” My sister gawks, failing to keep the humor off her face.

“I had to keep reminding myself to be professional, which was very hard to do in such close proximity to a shirtless god sprawled out on my yoga mat.”

The girls giggle into their wine, clearly enjoying the discomfort I must have been in.

“Anyway,” I say, waving my arm, “it continued for a couple of weeks, and we both did our best to ignore the sexual tension that wanted to spiral out of control every time we were in the same room together.”

I take a sip of my wine and brace for the next part.

“Then, Connor came to town. He surprised me with Bolt tickets, right behind the goalie net, I might add, and that’s the first time I realized who he was,” I swallow, remembering that exact moment all too well.

“Wait, you didn’t know who he was all of this time?” Sophia asks, shocked. “How could you not? His picture is blasted all over the internet.”

“You know I don’t follow hockey, and I don’t have time to scroll the internet. Any free time I have, I’m either working on my own dancing or escaping in a book,” I scowl when the girls laugh harder at my ignorance of not knowing who he was.

“Oh, Luna,” my sister chuckles. “That must have been quite the shock to see him on the ice.”

“Shock is an understatement,” I mutter, while I wait for the girls to settle down. “Between periods,” I say, once I’ve got their attention back, “I run into Savi, and she invites Connor and me to join them at Breakaway after the game.”

“Isn’t that place amazing!” Sophia explains. “We always have so much fun when we go.”

I knew Sophia and Travis shared season tickets with his brothers and their families. They switch off bringing the kids, and squeeze in couples’ date nights when they can. It makes sense that they would end up there because Knox and Travis’s brother, Miles, have been best friends since grade school.

“It is a nice place,” I agree. “I was having a really great time until Cayden walked in, acting all broody that I was there. He took it all out on poor Connor, thinking he was my boyfriend,” I giggle.

“He was jealous,” Sophia grins. “That’s a very good sign.” And Bella and Emma nod enthusiastically in agreement.

I fill them in on the rest of the night and finally get to the part about seeing him at the wedding.

“I hadn’t heard from him in three weeks, and suddenly we’re at a wedding together. He had no clue I was Noah’s sister. I guess they became friends at Knox’s wedding,” I say, wondering if I could have gone if we would have still ended up here. A huge part of me knows we would have been inevitable either way.

“They did,” Bella nods. “Noah and Maverick talked most of the evening with him. They really like him.”

“So you guys know he lost his wife almost three years ago,” I say quietly.

“Yeah, it was all over the internet,” Emma says with a soft sigh. “It was heartbreaking. His daughter was just a couple of weeks old.”

“I can’t even imagine the pain he must have gone through,” Sophia whispers.

I nod my head, unable to speak, and they all reach over to pat my leg.

“He’s very guarded, which I understand completely. He’s been through something unimaginable and is afraid to give all of himself to someone again. But we also have this connection that has bonded us, and neither one of us can walk away from it. At least for now, so we’ve sort of made this agreement,” I swallow, picking some lint off my black leggings, to distract myself from the pair of eyes directed my way.

“What kind of agreement?” Emma asks cautiously.