“Don’t you?”

  “God, no, but after I tell you what I’m about to, you might want to break up with me.”

  He’d cheated. That was my first thought. Of course he had the opportunity, he must have them all the time, but I had learned to quiet that voice inside me and trust him. Even when he’d go out with the guys, he’d take the time to message how much he missed me and couldn’t wait to be by my side again. He’d cradled that seed of doubt in his palms and starved it little by little with reassurances. And now it was as if he’d put it in a pot with Miracle-Gro soil.

  “And this is why you’ve been off?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Tell me. Just say it.”

  He turned to face away from me.

  “You can at least look me in the eye when you tell me.” My anger was rising even though I really wanted to put on a mask of indifference when he told me that he’d ruined us by sleeping with someone else. That wasn’t something I could ever get past, ever put behind us.

  He faced me and separated my fingers until he held just my left ring finger. His two fingers ran up and down it, his eyes studying it. “I’m not ready. I know we’ve been dating for a while and the guys have been giving me hell, and you make me so fucking happy, but I just can’t.”

  I tilted my head, allowing his words to run through my mind again. “I don’t understand.”

  He dropped my hand, rose from the bed, and walked over to the window that looked out at the Gulf. It was dark, but the stars were out with a half-moon hanging in the sky. “You know how screwed up I am from my dad. I wish I was one of those guys who could just say fuck it and fall on bended knee. Take my chances. You deserve a guy like that.” He circled back around. “I’m not him.”

  Tweetie had confessed a few things to me over the years about his youth. How his dad would weave in and out of his life until he just stopped coming around altogether. How, as a result, Tweetie lashed out when he was a teenager, unable to process the anger inside him. But he’d gone through therapy and found an outlet, but I guess not all of his demons were dead and buried. How could I fault him? I had demons of my own.

  “That’s all well and good, but I don’t understand what changed between us. Why have you been so distant?”

  He broke the distance between us and fell to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and putting his head in my lap. “I don’t know how to keep you.”

  I closed my eyes, my fingers weaving through his hair. “Why would you lose me?”

  He picked up his head and rested his chin on my thigh. “I can’t marry you, Tedi. I tell myself that it’s no different than what we’re doing now, but then this fear rises up and says if I marry you, I’ll destroy us.”

  One tear came and then another until I couldn’t hold them back. His arms grew tighter. I hated to see him hurting so much.

  “It’s okay.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could really process them. “I don’t need marriage.”

  He peeked up at me, hope filling those gorgeous baby blues, and I wasn’t lying. I didn’t know what I wanted either. I had my own hangups. “You don’t?”

  I shook my head, and he rose to his knees again.

  “I just need you,” I said, and all that worry and torment washed from his eyes.

  “Really?”

  I nodded.

  “Because I do love you, Tedi. I love you so fucking much.”

  I knew he did, and I trusted that everything he could give, he gave me. I loved him just as much, and I didn’t want to lose him either.

  We didn’t need a marriage certificate to prove our love to anyone, but even as he kissed me and toppled me to the bed, situating himself between my thighs, one thought haunted me—would his hangup about marriage eventually be the end of us?

  Nineteen

  Tedi

  It’s about three-quarters of the way through the third period. I told Coach Buford I wouldn’t interfere during the game, but I need to get some footage when they’re coming off the ice.

  I lean over and whisper to Decker, “I’m going to go, thanks again. I’ll call you this week.”

  He nods, more enthralled with Rowan skating down the ice, passing to Henry than with what I’m saying.

  Tweetie skates by, and I decide to get the hell out of here. He already scored two goals, and I don’t want to see him get a hat trick in the first game of his I’ve been to in years.

  I’m halfway up the stairs when I catch everyone’s eyes glued to the ice with expressions of awe. Unable to stop myself, I circle around as Tweetie shoots the puck and the buzzer goes off. The entire arena is on their feet, cheers and roars and screams blaring. They chant Tweetie over and over again, all the fans throwing their hats onto the ice.

  I watch him on the ice, celebrating with his teammates, and I smile because I do love to watch him play even if I hate it just the same. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he’s worked so hard to be so prominent this far into his career.

  I turn back around and run up the stairs, unable to watch. His love for hockey is part of the reason we didn’t work out. It’s hard to remember that, though, when I see him on the ice.

  With my pass, I get into the back tunnel, and I’m ready with my phone as the third period ends, and the Falcons win three to one.

  They all file through the tunnel, ecstatic from their win. It’s the different reactions that I love capturing as they pass me—the goofballs on the team always sticking out their tongue or saying something into the camera, while the quieter guys just give me a nice smile and keep walking. The Trifecta and Conor are the last to come off the ice, and they’re all congratulating Tweetie on his hat trick.

  “I think that solidifies our theory,” Conor says.

  “Definitely, your best game of the season.” Henry draws back when he sees me holding my phone up for a video, but he smiles and nods, continuing to walk.

  “I’ve had plenty of good games this year,” Tweetie says, stopping altogether when he sees me.

  “Just admit it, you wanted to—” Rowan stumbles into Tweetie’s back, and I wonder what this theory of theirs is.

  “It was just a good game. There was no other reason for it. It’s dedication and hard work,” Tweetie says, eyeing me and not the phone. “I was bound to get a hat trick this season with all my offseason work, unlike you slackers.”

  He continues walking, and Conor dips his head at me with a small smile.

  There goes that footage to use on socials. I can’t show Tweetie calling his teammates out for being slackers.

  I stop the video and pocket my phone, walking down the hall. The locker room is loud and boisterous, and I continue my trek down the hallways, having learned my way around a little more this last week. As I’m about to leave and go back to my lonely apartment, the wives and girlfriends and Decker step off the elevator.

  “Hey, I bet they’re so happy.” Jade beams. “Did you get some great footage?”

  They start down the hall the way I just came, so I walk with them. “Um… a little. I’m sure there’s something I can use.”

  “Did you see Tweetie?” Bodhi asks me.

  He is so adorable.

  “I did.” I feign excitement.

  “He stopped smiling when he looked at the stands and you weren’t there. Did you tell him good job?” He rises on his toes and lowers his voice. “He hasn’t scored in three games.” His cringe makes me smile, and I ruffle his hair.

  “I guess his luck is turning around.” I ignore the idea that maybe Tweetie was upset I didn’t see his third goal because that’s not anything I’m ready to dissect just yet.

  “Daddy says it’s not good luck,” Bodhi says. “It’s practice.”

  Jade wraps her arms around Bodhi, and he squirms out of her hold before running over to a little girl standing with her mom on the other side of the room.

  “Is this the girlfriends’ and wives’ room?” I ask Jade.

  “It’s the family room. Welcome.” Eloise envelops me in a hug.

  “I was just about to go.” I peer over her shoulder and give Decker a “what the fuck” expression.

  We’d both already planned to sneak out of here and not have to go to the club with them. The only reason I got Decker here was for the game, since I can get him that close to the glass.

  “No, we’re going out,” Eloise says.

  “Yeah, if I’m going, you’re going.” Jade points from me to her. “We just have to drop Bodhi off at my parents’.”

  “I say we suggest going to Peeper’s Alley. The last place I want to be tonight is a club with loud music and a bunch of girls trying to get into our VIP section because they want our men. I’m not in the mood.” Kyleigh looks really tired.

  “Don’t mind her, she’s cranky. There’s a bride at work who’s giving her hell.” Eloise thumbs in Kyleigh’s direction.

  “Oh, what do you do?” I ask.

  “I’m a wedding dress designer.”

  “She has her own shop and everything.” Eloise puts her arm around her friend’s shoulders, looking so proud.

  God, I miss Saige so much.

  “Oh, I’d love to see it. Not that I’m getting married.” I laugh, and they all smile but don’t say anything. Okay, tough room.

  “You’re welcome to come anytime. I’ll give you the address.” Kyleigh gives me a warm smile.

  We talk a little more about what the rest of them do. Eloise is a stylist, and it’s a new venture for her. Jade is a photographer. I suddenly feel like the least creative of the bunch. How do I fit in? Then again, I don’t have to. I’m not Tweetie’s girl, so it doesn’t matter. Maybe he’ll find himself a baker, and they can all live happily ever after.

  Okay, I’m bitter. This isn’t good.

  “Excuse me,” I say, heading over to Decker, who is standing against the wall with his phone in his hand. “Why are you here?” I whisper. “You were supposed to leave.”

  He glances up. “They’re like a cult. They wouldn’t let me even go to the bathroom on my own. They were waiting for me when I finished. And then Bodhi talked to me the entire time about my baseball season, asking me about Easton Bailey and stuff. I couldn’t sneak off.”

  “Then I guess we’re going out with them,” I growl and lean along the wall with him.

  “I’m not sure I understand this charade you’re putting on. I mean, you two were at each other’s throats the other night at dinner. If you don’t like each other, don’t be around each other, then I can go live my own life.”

  “Boo hoo, Decker. If you don’t know what that fight at the table was really about, then you’ve obviously never loved anyone. Just play along.”

  “I’m done with this. You want to let out my secrets? Go ahead, I was a kid.” He pushes off the wall.

  “Okay, how about the time you stole the good rum from my dad’s bar? The one he got in Mexico and couldn’t replace?”

  He narrows his eyes at me.

  “Right now he assumes it was Toby or Theo. But maybe I will enlighten him.” I shrug.

  “Your dad wouldn’t care. I’ll get him a case and send it to him to make up for it.”

  I hum and shake my head. “You could, but then my dad thinks you’re a thief. Your reputation will be forever tarnished.”

  I almost feel bad because Decker is an all-around great guy, and he cares what people think about him. And now I’m using that against him. But I need him. I’m a desperate woman.

  “This entire thing is demented.” He huffs next to me. “This is the last thing I’m doing.”

  We stand in silence, and I bury my head in my phone, replaying the footage on slow speed to see what parts of it I can make work. I pause the video right as Tweetie came off the ice. There’s no anger, almost happiness to see me there, but it vanishes right away into a hard glare.

  “I think he still wants you,” Decker whispers, knocking his shoulder to mine.

  I look up at him. His whole face softens when he looks at me. “No, he doesn’t. Our time is over.”

  “The other night at the restaurant, he asked me about your boyfriend before he knew I was him.”

  “Of course he did.” I roll my eyes, but Decker’s face only shows sincerity.

  “He asked me if you were happy.”

  Warmth spreads through my body, and my heart picks up pace. I have no idea what to say, but I don’t have a chance because Tweetie and the guys burst through the doors, and everyone claps, congratulating them on the win.

  “Next time, don’t tell me things like that.” I hate that I’m taking it out on Decker, but I don’t want to know that Tweetie wants me happy. It just makes everything harder.

  “I just⁠—”

  I shake my head. “Let’s just get tonight over with.”

  I watch Tweetie pick up Bodhi, swinging him around, and I ignore the pull in my ovaries that says it could’ve been our son he was swinging around the room after a great game, but that wasn’t our destiny, and it never will be.

  Twenty

  Tweetie

  I got outvoted. Of course I did, because all these couples want a chill night at Peeper’s Alley rather than to go to a club.

  Which leaves me in the back room, sitting at a table and watching Decker and Tedi play darts against the reigning champs, Jade and Henry.

  There are pitchers of beer on the table and glasses of wine sprinkled around. It’s casual, and no one is getting drunk.

  Tedi winds her arm around Decker’s neck, hugging him to her body, and the urge to grab a bottle of whiskey and find a dark corner is greater than ever.

  Ruby comes in and eyes me sitting here and not really talking, but she detours over to the smaller tables, picking up the empty cups. Decker is in her way, and she stops and glares at him. “Why are you here?”

  He laughs and draws back. “I’m Decker,” he says, holding out his hand.

  She just stares at his outstretched hand, then looks at me, then at Tedi before her gaze settles on Decker only. “I know who you are. That wasn’t my question.”

  “He’s my boyfriend,” Tedi answers for him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  She used to do that to me all the time, and it sometimes made me feel like a childhood stuffed animal she could never part with.

  “Boyfriend?” Ruby clarifies.

  Tedi nods. “Do you want me to help you clean up the empties?”

  “Be nice, Ruby,” Kyleigh singsongs from next to me.

  Ruby can be protective. She knows who Tedi is to me. I got drunk one night and spilled my guts to her about the one who meant the most to me, who I couldn’t keep. So when Tedi showed up here, Ruby already knew who and what she was to me, so her back was already up. I almost feel sorry for Decker. Almost, but not quite.

  “I take offense to that, Kyleigh.” She never looks in Kyleigh’s direction, keeping her eyes on Decker. “You’re the new guy, so you get to help me clean up. Take some glasses.”

  Decker glares at Tedi, and she looks back at him somewhat sheepishly. What the fuck? I hardly ever got that look from her.

  “I’ll help,” Tedi says.

  “No, you won’t. He plays the hot spot well. He can surely handle a few glasses.” Ruby turns around without saying anything else.

  Ruby is like a bossy grandma, and it’s just easier to do what she wants than to argue. Decker must realize that, so he picks up the empty pitchers and a few glasses, following her out.

  Tedi watches him as though he’s on his way to the electric chair. What the fuck is that about? He can handle himself. She doesn’t need to baby him.

  “Come and sit here,” Eloise says, patting the spot next to her at the table.

  Tedi grabs her glass of beer and sits down, purposely avoiding any eye contact with me, though I know she can feel my gaze on her.

  “So, tell us a little about you. You live in New York?” Eloise leans back, allowing Kyleigh into the conversation.

  Soon, Jade kicks Rowan out of his seat, and the four women are all talking to one another.

  This is the problem with the back room. It’s too quaint, too close of quarters, so now I have to hear about Tedi’s life as an eavesdropper rather than her telling me alone over an intimate dinner like it used to be.

  Decker comes back holding a tray of shots and sets them down in front of us. He sees there’s no chair by Tedi, so he takes the open one between Conor and me.

  “Is she always so pushy with the shots? She just made me do two at the bar. Said it was some ritual because I’m new?” Decker looks between the two of us.

  Conor laughs. “You never know with Rubes.” He smacks Decker on the back. “She warms up eventually.”

  “Well, she wants us all to take a shot.” Decker picks up the shots and passes them around. “She said this is for you, Rowan.” He puts one that was set away from the rest on the tray in front of Rowan.

  “Why are we doing shots?” Henry asks. “I have a kid who’s going to wake my ass up at six tomorrow morning.”

  “Just do the shot,” I say, lifting my shot glass.

  All the girls pick up theirs.

  “Welcome to Peeper’s, Tedi and Decker,” I say.

  We all clink and down the shots. I probably love the burn a little too much. To be honest, I would love to numb my mind tonight, so when Ruby comes back through with another tray of shots, I don’t groan and complain like the others.

  “Fuck, I feel like I’m at my twenty-first birthday,” Decker says, picking up his beer.

  “You should feel honored. She didn’t do this to me when I joined the team.” Conor shrugs.

  Tedi is making all the girls laugh with her stories, as she always does.

  Wanting to crawl out of my skin, I head to the bathroom. Peeper’s isn’t busy, since it’s a weekday night, so there’s no line and no women waiting to get a glimpse of us when we leave the back room.

  Ruby flags me down at a table she’s cleaning. “I have another round of shots for you guys.”

  I stop and cross my arms, staring at her. “What are you doing, Ruby?”