Page 118 of Rinkmates

Rosalie doesn’t appear to mind as she casually loops her arm through Jayce’s, causing him to tense up like a soldier ready to fight. What’s up with him when she’s around?

I asked Riley at some point, but he didn’t think he acted any differently. I put it down to a man’s brain failure. They usually aren’t the greatest empaths. But there is something between them. I just know it. The way both of them act around each other. Riley asks her if she wants to give him a heart attack by dating such idiots, and even though she responds with a cocky answer, she flashes Jayce a flirty grin at the same time that either Riley doesn’t want to see or he ignores on purpose. But I think they have a thing for each other.

We go inside, Rosalie and Jayce walk in front of us and I watch how her fingers trail along his arm. Jayce is so stiff though, not one flicker of a grin or anything.

“Did they ever date?”

“Who?” Riley asks as we go inside. We don’t have to show any badges, everyone seems to know Rosalie and Riley, since its their mother’s gala.

“Jay and Rosie.”

Riley tenses up. “Jesus, no. Why would you think that? He grew up like a brother to us. He’s known her since she was thirteen.”

Well, tell me about young girls falling for older guys…

“It’s just…they act strange.”

“You’ve said this before.” Riley watches them and shakes his head. “But no, Jay just hates Vaughn as well. He’s very protective over Rosie.” Okay, he either got one or two too many slap shots against his head or hereallydoesn’t want to see it. I get a feeling he would hate seeing them together. “Also, Jay knows my sister is off limits. And he’s almost thirty, ready to settle. My sister’s not.”

The grand hall is dripping with low hanging chandeliers, a bizarre contrast to the modern barnlike structure. The glimmering lights almost seem out of place in this rustic setting. Yet, they cast a warm and inviting glow over the opulent furnishings. It’s like stepping into another world entirely.

Crisp white linens adorn several long tables, topped with silver place settings and decadent floral arrangements in rich hues of white and blue. Famous athletes from every major sport mix and mingle, dressed in designer suits and gowns. They flutter around like peacocks, clutching flutes of champagne, not even thinking about sitting down just yet.

Some years ago, this would have been everything for me.

Now, I can’t wait to get home.

“You’re almost thirty too. You looking to settle down as well?” I ask, throwing on a cocky grin, trying to keep my words in check, not wanting to get my hopes up too much.

A waiter carrying a tray of champagne passes by, and I take a glass with alcohol, while Riley opts for the nonalcoholic version. Their coach banned them from drinking before the finals.

“In two to three years, maybe, yeah,” he says and my stomach sinks. “You’re still young, so I wouldn’t rush anything.”

I don’t hear him talking about us as if we’ll still be a thing in three years.

I just grin up at him and take a big, big sip of my champagne.

My gaze shifts to the commanding presence of Eleonore, who effortlessly dominates the room, and then to Rosalie, standing with Jay a few feet away. She finishes her drink and sets the glass on a passing waiter’s tray before excusing herself.

I watch her saunter to the bathroom.

Jayce and some athletes come over to us. They don’t seem to recognize me and I’m glad. I don’t always want to answer questions about quitting the Olympics. Maybe disappearing without a word wasn’t the smartest move—I should have comeup with some white lies to keep them quiet. But then my sponsors might have believed me even less. Who knows where I’d be now?

Riley is chatting with a sports broadcaster when I see Rosalie come out of the restroom again. She’s subtly sniffing and dabbing at her nose. It hits me like a lightning bolt when I catch a glimpse of something white glittering under her nose, just before she wipes it away.

Vaughn meets her outside the bathroom and gives her a kiss.

I pull my hand away from Riley and make my way to Jayce. It’s clear he noticed too—he can’t seem to take his eyes off her.

I lean in close and whisper, “Did…did Rosalie just do coke?”

He sighs heavily, resignation etched on his face. “Probably. She’s constantly acting out, seeking her dad’s attention. But no matter what she does, she’ll always be the good child in his eyes. The perfect daughter she hates to be.”

I watch him watching her, leaving for the garden with her hand clasped on Vaughn’s, her head thrown back laughing.

“Don’t tell Riley,” Jayce says.

“What. Why?”

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