Page 46 of The Love You Win

“Tell us,” that same reporter calls as we pass her, “are you worried that Maddox will break your heart like he’s broken his previous girlfriends’?”

My chest tightens as we step into the arena’s massive foyer. Am I worried Maddox will break my heart? Of course, I would be. If there was anything between us. But her words, spoken so casually, are like a splinter in my palm I can’t quite see. It burrows under my skin and stings. Could she so easily see that I’m the kind of girl who ends up broken-hearted and left in the dust? Are the words stepping stone blinking in neon over my head? If my dating life were a horror movie, would the audience know the first moment I stepped onto the screen that I’m not final girl material?

“Hey.” Nevaeh tugs me over to the side of the coat check so we’re not in anyone’s way. “Where’d you go?”

“What? I’m fine.”

My best friend eyes me skeptically. “You sure?”

“Totally. Should we grab a glass of champagne from one of those servers before heading upstairs?” Please don’t call me on my deflection.

She and Jess stare at me for another moment before deciding it may be best to let whatever’s bothering me go. Hopefully, they assume I’m just overwhelmed by being recognized. Maybe they think I’m panicking that the world is curious about my dating life. And that’s all true. But I don’t need them to know the core of it. They’ve been worried enough about my headspace since Alex broke things off with me.

My mind wanders to the strands of blonde hair in his Instagram post. I never should have looked at his feed. Even if he’s not with someone else, it’s clear he’s moved on. I should move on, too.

The problem is, I’m terrified of being hurt like that again. If anyone asks, I’m happy to list out the myriad reasons I’m not ready to date. They all sound healthy and empowering, and usually, it gets people to back off and stop asking. Which is what I want.

But the real list? The real list has only one reason on it. One paralyzing reason I haven’t started dating again.

I can’t shake the fear that Alex left me because I’m not enough. Because I’m unlovable. And if he could see that, someday everyone else will, too.

twenty

ISLA

We make our way upstairs to a massive, open area. It’s filled with circular tables covered in ivory tablecloths, hockey-themed centerpieces, and twinkle lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s surprisingly beautiful for the inside of a hockey arena. All along the outer edge of the space are long rectangular tables covered in signed paraphernalia, plaques describing services you can bid on, tickets to games, and so much more. People dressed in designer clothes linger before each display. Some scan QR codes with their phones and bid while others window shop.

Jess and Nevaeh ooh and ahh over everything while I scan the room for Maddox. Or any of the other guys. They should be here, and it’ll be nice to see them again. Except, I can’t find any of them. There are so many people crowded together. They may be mingling. Or maybe Maddox changed his mind and isn’t coming after all. I inwardly kick myself for how disappointed that thought makes me, and my shoulders sag.

“Who are you looking for?” A deep voice whispers in my ear, so close that the hot brush of his breath on my neck makes me shiver.

I try to hide the massive smile tugging at my lips because the last thing Maddox Graves needs is something else to inflate his already generous ego. “No one,” I lie, only turning my head toward him enough to be heard over the hum of the crowd.

“So you’re not hoping to spot a devilishly handsome center in an Adidas tracksuit?”

I laugh, turning to take him in, because if he’s really wearing a tracksuit, I’m going to demand he go buy me a set, too. Sparkling brown eyes meet mine, and those full lips of his quirk when I look him up and down. I can’t decide if I’m more disappointed that he’s not wearing a tracksuit, or startled when I notice the color of the tie he’s paired with his fitted navy suit. Emerald green. My favorite.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs. There’s no denying the heated appreciation of his gaze as he takes me in. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve become more beautiful.”

My cheeks flush hot, and I drop his gaze. I thought I’d gotten over the embarrassment his flirting brings on, but I guess that only applies to text flirting. In the real world, I can’t play it cool to save my life. “Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

And he does. God, he does.

He’s wearing expensive brown leather dress shoes without socks. On any normal man, I’d think it a strange stylistic choice, but on Maddox? It somehow works. His pants are fitted and slim, hugging every defined muscle of his legs. His shirt is a crisp, bright white, and perfectly tailored. The jacket he’s wearing is open, showing off that green tie. Swallowing hard, I do my best to ignore the pulse of desire throbbing between my thighs. When I summon enough courage to look up at him again, he’s smiling knowingly. It’s not a smug smile, though. No, I’d almost call that smile affectionate.

We stare at each other for a beat longer than could be considered normal before I hear my name being called enthusiastically from a few feet away.

“Damn, Isla, looking good!” Griffin offers me a blinding smile. He jokingly elbows Maddox out of the way so he can steal my attention. Of course, this has my friends turning around. I try not to giggle when Nevaeh’s mouth drops open and Jess’s eyes widen. Because it’s not just Griffin who’s wandered over to say hello, it’s Sebastian and Logan, too. And while none of them hold a candle to Maddox, I can admit they all look damned good in their suits.

“Oh. My. God,” Nev whispers as she stares at Griffin. He grins but has the good sense not to draw attention to her blatant fangirling.

“Hey, Griffin. Hi, guys. You all look pretty good yourselves.” I lean in tentatively when Griffin opens his arms to hug me. Maddox makes a disgruntled sound low in his throat, and my stomach flips. Sebastian and Logan don’t offer hugs, no doubt sensing their friend’s displeasure, but they do offer bright smiles and nods.

“Who are these lovely ladies with you?” Logan asks. “Are these the famous best friends we’ve heard so much about?”

“Yes, these are my best friends. Guys, meet Jess and Nevaeh.” I motion to my besties before pointing at Griffin. “Jess and Nev, this is Griffin, Sebastian, and Logan. And this”—I tug Maddox from behind Griffin—“is Maddox.”

They all exchange pleasantries while Logan waves a server over to replace our now-empty champagne flutes with fresh bubbly. The guys are sweet, engaging my friends in animated conversation until they’re pulled away to speak with other guests. Maddox rubs his jaw, clearly unhappy about being summoned along with them.

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