Page 140 of On the Breakaway

Wesley snorts, turning to me. “Do you remember when you met Liam?”

I laugh, thinking about the awards ceremony last October where he’d tried to hit on me.

Wesley giggles again. “She looked right at him, said ’I don’t fuck hockey players’, and then she just walked away.”

“No, you didn’t.” Becca gasps.

“That’s iconic.” Haley grins.

The room dissolves back into laughter.

Haley moves onto the bed with Becca. “I just don’t know that I could ever do the meaningless sex thing.”

“You should try it sometime.” Becca talks around her mouthful of popcorn. “It’s great. Especially if he’s a star player on an NHL team who knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“I can actually attest to that, too,” Wesley says quietly.

“Did Wesley Miller, a woman who wouldn’t even look at a man six months ago, just tell us about her sex life?” I ask.

She tosses a pillow at my head. I catch it and immediately throw it back when she sticks her tongue out at me.

Haley glances between the three of us. “So, what you’re saying is I should have a one-night stand?”

Wesley groans. “Considering my casual fling turned into a serious relationship, I’m not the expert on that.”

I take a sip of water to hide my grin. Unfortunately, that’s the exact moment Becca points at me.

“You’re the real expert.”

I immediately choke, water going down the wrong pipe. “On what?”

“No-strings hookups.”

Haley nods immediately. “That’s true.”

“You guys make me sound like I’m allergic to relationships.”

“You are.”

I groan because I can’t even deny it. That’s what I planned to be. The irony is that I haven’t thought about no-strings hookups in a while. Not since a certain man started taking up entirely too much space in my head.

Haley grabs a fistful of popcorn. “To be fair, I don’t really see you as the settling-down type anyway.”

She’s not saying anything I haven’t said myself, but it stings coming from her. Maybe because a part of me wonders if that’s exactly how everyone sees me. Or maybe because another part of me wonders if that’s who I want to be, and if it’s too late to change it.

The conversation carries on, but despite all the teasing and laughter filling the room, my eyes slide toward my phone sitting beside me on the bed.

Still nothing.

An hour ago, Wesley made us watch the Blades’ home playoff game because of Nathan.

Atlanta had forced overtime, so it ran long. I knew that afterward there would be interviews, media, and whatever else hockey players do after games.

I know Grayson doesn’t owe me a text after a playoff game, but I keep checking my phone anyway.

Somewhere along the way, he’s become important to me, and that’s a problem because everyone in this room still thinks I’m the girl who can walk away from anything.

My head’s a fucking mess.