Page 77 of Three Hockey Hotties

His breathing is still fast and ragged, but he lets out a laugh. “Jesus Christ, woman.”

I simply snuggle closer, with a smug smile on my face.

I let my eyes finally roam around my new bedroom.

But even as I take in the details and realize how lovely it is, there’s a niggle at the back of my mind that tells me it’s not really mine, and I won’t be spending much time here.

CHAPTER 16

ABBY

“You know how every time I doubt why something good is happening, my mother says to me ‘you deserve everything because you had childhood cancer?’” Sadie asks me, my phone in her hand watching the video I took of my new apartment.

The new apartment Benjamin is paying for. I made the mistake of looking the building up online and he’s not just helping out with the rent. What I can pay is a token gesture toward the unit.

“Yes, I remember that because it always made me wildly uncomfortable each and every time she said it.”

“I know, because you have fucked up feelings about worth and guilt and ever just accepting that you don’t owe your parents or your sister anything. Cancer happened to you, you didn’t go out and get it.”

We’ve talked extensively about our different reactions to our shared experience and how different our families are, but this is not something I want to talk about right now. We’re at the Willow Bay Arena, waiting for the Mutts game to begin. Sadie has a beer the size of her head in her left hand, my phone in her right.

“What does that have to do with what your mother said?”

“You deserve this apartment,” she says, finally looking up from the screen as we sit at the ice arena waiting for the Mutts game to begin. “Something good is happening. Not because you had childhood cancer. But because you’re you. And if you don’t believe that, then just believe that you’re allowed to have good things happen to you, Abby. I promise. It doesn’t come with a price you have to pay.”

Now I’m squirming a little on the hard plastic seat. Sadie thinks I inadvertently punish myself for taking up so much attention and time and money as a kid.

She’s not wrong.

I think about Dash, coaxing me to really look at myself in the mirror. To ask for what I wanted. It’s not often I allow myself to do that.

If Sadie only knew that the minute Kane made the assumption I would be living with the three of them, I instantly pulled away, she would chastise me.

“I do believe that I’m allowed to have good things,” I say. “I moved into the apartment, didn’t I?” I add, lightly. “It’s way above my paid grade. Benjamin is supplementing the rent.”

“Lawyer Boy is a solid boyfriend,” Sadie says. She uses her finger to move the bar back to the beginning. “Does he have a co-worker you’d like to throw my way?”

She doesn’t look particularly worried about it. She takes a huge slurping sip from her beer and sets it down in the cupholder on the back of the seat in front of her. Sadie is a brunette with a wolf haircut that suits her loose curls. She is one of those who had straight hair until chemo then it came back curly. She rocks it well, along with the silver horseshoe septum piercing.

Sadie is a cool girl. I’ve never been envious of that though. I’m fruity and pink. It’s just who I am and I embrace it. Why wear black when you can wrap yourself in pink?

“If I thought you were serious I would ask him, but I know you. You don’t want a boyfriend right now.”

Sadie shrugs. “Never say never.” Then she hands me my phone back. “I’m not just here for moral support as you ogle your many men. I might be on a fishing expedition myself.”

She slaps my knee. “Oooh, here they come.”

She means the players. They are stepping out onto the ice, one by one, skating in a circle around the edge of the rink. I strain to catch a glimpse of Kane and Dash, but I realize immediately they’re not out there.

“Wrong team,” I tell her. “This is Grand Rapids, not Willow Bay.”

“Wrong team to you,” she corrects, lifting binoculars to her eyes. “I’m an equal opportunity fan girl.”

I glance around at the seats surrounding us to see if anyone else has binoculars. “Where did you get binoculars?” I ask, a little embarrassed, though I’m not sure why. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a closer look.

“My dad got them for me to look for UFOs. But they’ve honestly come in handy when the guy who lives in the building across the street from me walks his dog every morning in gray sweatpants.”

That makes me snort. “That seems a little intrusive.”