Page 111 of The Love You Win

Sebastian watches me, and I know he didn’t miss Isla’s text. Hell, the nosy bastard probably read the damned thing over my shoulder. Not wanting to deal with his questions, I type a quick response.

Me

I’m fine.

Isla

Facetime?

Out with the guys. TTYL.

Oh. Okay. Have fun. Miss you.

I don’t respond. Shoving the phone in my pocket, anger begins to overpower the pleasant buzz I’d been working on. My mind replays her callous words, even though I don’t want it to.

I had no idea they’d win a date for me with a rich professional athlete. Talk about luck, right?

Luck. What a fucking crock of shit. She probably planted the idea in their heads. I can’t believe I fell for her innocent act. For her good-person act.

“Is everything okay with you two?” Navarro’s voice is just loud enough for me to hear over the din of the bar, but quiet enough that no one else will hear it.

I hate the look of concern in his eyes. The pity.

“Don’t worry about it,” I snap.

Bash frowns, but after considering me for a few moments, he nods. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it.”

This time, when our server comes by, I order something stronger than beer. Turning to my friend and goalie, I give him a brusque nod. “Don’t think that’s gonna happen, but I appreciate it all the same.”

Navarro’s lips twist to the side, thinning out into a firm line. “Take it from me, Madds. Sometimes you think it’s better to hold things in, but is it? Or will your secrets eat you from the inside out and leave you even more broken than before?”

Fuck. I’m not drunk enough for this.

“I’m out of here,” I say to my teammates. Well, slur is probably more accurate. I’m not sure if what I’m doing can be considered actual speech.

“I’ll walk with you,” Navarro says, rising from the table as I do. He has to steady me with a hand on my elbow when I wobble.

“Nah. Stay. Have fun.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Coach will kill me if I let you wander, drunk, around a strange city.” He nods at the other guys. “See you guys tomorrow morning. Don’t get shit-faced and do something stupid.”

That’s usually my line.

Griffin and Logan roll their eyes. Griffin’s chatting animatedly with one of our rookies, Ryder Hanson, while Logan has two women perched on his lap. I snort. Maybe he’s got the right idea. Relationships are pointless and bring nothing but pain. Hot, meaningless sex with a different woman every night could be the answer.

Or it could make your dick fall off.

I laugh quietly.

“All right, Chuckles. Let’s get you to bed.” Navarro pushes on my shoulders to guide me out of the bar. My laughter cuts off and I scowl at the goalie.

“Don’t fucking start calling me that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Graves. You’re a grumpy drunk tonight.”

I have a right to be grumpy. Fooled again.

What’s that saying? Fool me one, shame on you. Fool me twice and it’s clear I’m a stupid fucking idiot?

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