Page 104 of Put a Rink on It

“Hasn’t stopped people before. Until the ‘I do,’ you don’t gotta be committed.”

All our gazes train on him, even those not in committed relationships.

Or in my case, a fake one.

“Bullshit.”

“You know nothing.”

“Keep your ideas to yourself.”

“No wonder you’re still single.”

“Gross.”

Everyone speaks at the same time, and he holds up his hands. “Message received. Cheating’s frowned upon.”

Someone throws a wadded napkin toward him, which he deflects well.

“I’m gonna settle my tab and take off. I’ve had enough of your faces today.”

“See you in the morning. Get home safe and text when you’re home,” Markou says, the “mother hen” of our group.

“Absolutely. The minute I walk through the door, expect a text,” I mock.

I take care of everyone’s drinks so far and pull up Raul’s contact and head outside. The night air is chilly, but spring is on the horizon. New England in the spring is going to be an experience. Should be interesting.

The car pulls up to the curb a minute later, and I climb into the back seat.

“Fun night out?” Raul asks as he pulls out onto the empty road.

I contemplate how best to answer his question. I feel better than when I arrived—the good fans will do that for me—but I’m not sure I’d call it “fun.”

“It was meh,” I finally decide on. And then, I spill about the rest of my day, talking Raul’s ear off the entire twenty-minute drive to my apartment.

When the car’s idling next to my front door, Raul spins toward me. “From where I sit, seems like you already have your answer.” When I open my door, the light shows off the smile filling his entire face.

I’m not sure he’s completely right, but unleashing my wayward thoughts has lifted the weariness.

“Thanks. See you next time.”

“You got it, boss.”

As I let myself into the empty apartment, I note the time. It’s early enough for a FaceTime call to Marina. I doubt she’ll be up for phone sex depending on where she’s sleeping, but seeing her face is the ending I need for this day.

We’ve got some things to discuss, but my outlook on everything is brighter.

CHAPTER 33

marina

Nero’s FaceTime call comes in as I’m settling into bed in my old bedroom.

“Hey, handsome. How was the bar?” His torso is bare, resting against the headboard in our bed. He’s on my side, which tugs on my heartstrings in too many ways to name, but the leading one is joy.

“It was fine. Wasn’t feeling the beer or the company. Wanted to see your face.”

“Aww, he’s so sweet and swoony.” I cheese into the camera, the effects of seeing him, the cookies, and the martinis I drank earlier all playing a part. “I miss you, too.”