Page 3 of Lost the Handle

Shit, I don’t know.

I draw in a few more deep breaths before my ringing phone fills my space once more. I reach for it, seeing that it’s Benson. One of, in all the ways that matter, my siblings. The dream has me so fucked up, I can’t even be excited to see his name. Benson has been a constant in my life for the last five years, and we were also roommates before he left. He’s been gone for over a month, in Chicago after getting drafted to the Blackhawks. While they are the rivals of my family’s team, the Nashville Assassins, weare all very proud of him. I’ve always wanted the best for him, and now he is off living his hockey dreams with his dream girl.

Meanwhile, I’m here marrying someone I don’t love, not a hockey star like my twin brothers, and wishing my bride was my dream girl.

Life is weird.

“Bro,” he says when I answer, and I drop my hand from my face.

“What? You good?”

“Yeah, fine?—”

“Cameron?” I ask about his fiancée since he sounds a bit off. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” he says, his voice less panicked when he speaks of her. “But listen, I fucked up.”

My brows draw in even more. “What happened? Do you need me to come to you?”

I’m already getting out of bed before he can answer. “No. Listen, don’t get mad.”

Why do people say that? For me, any time someone asks me not to get mad, I get fucking mad. I head to the kitchen for a bottle of water. “What did you do?”

“Emery called me.”

My heart skips a beat in my chest as I pause in my kitchen. “Okay?”

This isn’t out of the norm. Emery grew up with us; we all talk to one another, so I don’t understand what the issue is here. “What of it?”

“She asked if I was living with you, and I said no,” he says slowly, and my brow furrows further as I open my water bottle.

“Okay? I’m confused. You aren’t.”

“She then asked if Ava was living with you.”

Fuck. “And you didn’t lie?”

He groans softly. “No, she caught me off guard. And I knew as soon as she said ‘Fantastic’ that I’d fucked up.”

I groan loudly as I close my eyes. “Fuck, man.”

“Yeah. Um, Quinn…”

“What?” I ask slowly, hating the hesitation in his voice.

“She’s in Nashville.”

And as soon as the words leave his lips, there is a knock at my front door.

“And that’s probably her. I’m really sorry, dude.”

Emery Brooks is here.

I don’t even have to see the future to know I’m fucked.

Chapter

Two

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