Page 212 of On the Breakaway

I snort. “It was good, though.”

“Put me out of my misery.” Sloane slides the small box labeled kitchen utensils across the counter. “There’s a knife in there somewhere.”

Laughter echoes through the room, settling into an expectant quiet while they wait for me to answer Wesley’s actual question.

“Honestly? Damon fucked me up. And I know I’ve told you about what happened now, but it wasn’t really about what he did as much as it was about how it made me feel. Stupid. Embarrassed. Unlovable.”

Harper opens her mouth, but I shake my head and keep going.

“I told myself I didn’t mention Grayson because telling people we were casually hooking up could screw with the friend group, but that’s really only a small part of it.” I tap my fingers on the counter. “I was just scared. Scared that it would be exactly like it was last time. Scared that I’d have to admit for a second time that I just wasn’t the kind of person anyone good would actually want.”

“We’d never think that.” Wesley’s voice is quiet, her hand landing on my own to stop my nervous tapping.

“Yeah, but I did. My parents never loved me unconditionally, at least not in any sort of healthy way. Then, Damon didn’t either. Then Harper got married, and you found Nathan, and I was so unbelievably happy for you, but I also took it as a sign that I wasn’t the kind of person who could ever have that.” I pause, swallowing past the lump in my throat before continuing.

“I think once I realized that Grayson was nothing like Damon, it scared me more, because if he was actually good and he didn’t want me, it would prove everything I already thought about myself.”

“And now?” Harper asks.

“And now, I realize it wasn’t about me at all. It was about them. It was always about them, and I deserved better.” I swallow. “Grayson is that for me. He’s more than I ever thought I’d have, and he saw right through every thorn and loved me anyway.”

Tears prickle in my eyes, and I wipe them away.

Sloane pushes off the counter. “When my mom died and Wyatt adopted me, Grayson was there every step of the way, helping Wyatt figure out the paperwork and processes. He started bringing us to family dinners and never once made us feel weird about it. He told us that it’s what family does, treating us as if we’d always belonged. He’s pretty amazing.”

“Did you say Wyatt adopted you?” Harper asks, brows furrowing.

Sloane shrugs, but I can see something behind her eyes. “Long story for another day. My point is that Grayson really is one of the good ones.”

“The best one.” I smile.

“It’s nice seeing you so happy.” Harper pulls me into a quick hug, and I let her.

“You know, he might be good for you, but you’re just as good for him,” Sloane adds while emptying one of the kitchen drawers.

“I think his coach would disagree.”

“Okay, yeah, that sucks. But I just mean in general. Grayson has always been so straight-laced and controlled as if he’s never been allowed to relax into himself. And yes, he shouldn’t make brawls on the ice a regular occurrence, but I’m not sure he’s ever felt passionately enough about anything to lose himself in it. I think it’s good for him to really feel things to the fullest extent.”

I turn the idea over in my head, remembering what Katie said about him living in a box. Two of the people who know him best think that I’m good for him, and while normally I would ignore the idea entirely, I decide to take them at their word.

“What ended up happening with hockey?” Wesley asks, taping a box shut.

“He’s there now. I don’t know yet, but whatever it is, he’ll be okay.”

I say it as much for them as for myself.

“I love this for us.” Wesley spins around the kitchen. “You’re in a relationship. I’m moving in with Nathan. Harper’s married. Who would’ve thought when we were twenty that this is how things would pan out?”

“At twenty, I wasn’t thinking about the future. Probably just Jello shots.” I tease.

I glance at Harper, but she doesn’t even grin.

Sloane sighs. “I’ve made three friends here. Wesley is coupled up. Now Avery’s coupled up. And Harper is happily married. What about me?”

Harper’s face tightens.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, cutting through the chatter.