Page 106 of Hockey Wife

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

A carefully curated collection of snacks from Trader Joe’s Game Night section was laid out on the coffee table: mini quiches, jalapeno and cream cheese wontons, garlic and asiago cheese dip, and three types of popcorn. With one eye and ear on the game, Georgia caught up with her friends. Paris was dating a DJ—her third in as many months—while Skye had landed a PR assistant job in her dad’s company and lost it a day later. (“They expected me to show up at 8:30 in the freakin’ a.m. and now Mom’s furious with me.”) In the same breath, she complained of her poor financials, the connection completely lost on her. That Hermes purse was this season, and Georgia suspected she’d be asked to float her friend before the night was through.

The fissure between them had expanded to a gorge. She wanted to think it was because she was here, married, suddenly in a different stage of her life—or on the cusp of it. But it had been happening for longer than that. Since Dani had died.

She had credited pulling away from her friends to grief, but losing her sister had changed her more fundamentally. Put her on a different path, though the destination was still a mystery.

“How’s Savannah doing?” she asked Oliver.

“We broke up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was just casual.”

She felt his eyes on her, especially when her focus turned to the game. Watching Banks play with such skill and effort gave her a thrill she had a tough time hiding. That was her husband on the ice! He had held her hand when she was hurt. Made her tea to soothe her. Come inside her.

Her body heated at the memory, and she grasped a glass of iced water to cool down. The game continued along with her friends’ chatter, and ninety minutes later it was over. The Rebels lost which meant the series was back on even standing at 2-2.

She sent a text to Banks:

Sorry, Big Guy.

He didn’t answer, probably because he was getting ready to come home. She wanted to call him, hear his voice, and let him know she was in his corner. She would always be here for him.

More than anything, she wanted her friends to leave. The shallow gossip and catty commentary no longer appealed to her. Over the next forty minutes, she stretched and yawned, praying it would be contagious.

The doorbell chimed. She looked at her friends. “Kind of late for someone to be stopping by.”

Skye laughed. “Listen to the old married woman! That’ll be Callie and Fortnum.”

“And JoJo and his boy.” Paris held her phone aloft and headed to the door. “It’s been ages since we had a Georgia party, girl.”

A party? Before she could object, Paris opened the door and a steady stream of people started to trickle in.

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No one would leave.

Georgia could turn off the music or kill the lights or go to each person individually and tell them the party was over, but the people pleaser in her hated the idea of being a buzzkill. Mere weeks ago, she was a party queen. Now she was wishing everyone would scoot so she could clean up and ready the place for Banks’s arrival in the morning.

As it stood, she had spent the last four and a half hours following people around, telling them to use a coaster or take their smoke out to the patio or not pick up Cheddar who didn’t like anyone touching him except for Banks. After a while, she placed him in the laundry room and locked it behind her.

Which made her think that she should lock the rest of the rooms. Knowing her friends and acquaintances as she did, open bedrooms were like catnip. She bounded up the stairs, stepping over a couple mid-make out, and did a circuit. None of the rooms featured anyone banging, thank God, so she happily cut off those avenues with locked doors then went to Banks’s bedroom for a breather. Their bedroom.

The steady thump of music sounded distant but not distant enough. Time to shut this down, even if it made her a party pooper. Goodness, she was a married woman.

She opened the door. Oliver stood on the other side, his fist raised pre-knock.

“Hey!”

“Could I have a word?”

“Sure. But make it quick because I’m about to call time on this gathering.”

He gentled her backward and shut the door behind him. “I’m worried about you, G.”

“You are? Why?”

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