Page 28 of Good Pucking Luck

“Though he never really said it.” Donovan sits down at the table. “He was just good at making me feel it without saying the words.”

Anthony moves from his chair to sit beside Donovan. He takes his drink and a muffin. My feet itch. My skin feels too tight. The urge to walk out hits me again. I don’t want to sit around and talk about Malcolm.

Donovan glances up, and seeing me lingering, asks, “You work in hospitality, right, Hayes?”

That’s something I can talk about, so I join them.

*

We only stayfor about forty-five minutes. We’re still trying to feel our way around each other, and I’m not sure switching from Jilted Exes to friends—if that’s even what Donovan wants—is going to work, or if I want it to work, but I came, I stayed, got distracted from all things Rylan, and for today, that’s enough.

“Do you want to exchange numbers?” Donovan asks as we’re getting ready to leave. What’s the deal with people asking for my cell number lately? The only time anyone usually asks for it is if I’m going to be paying them a bill.

“Did either of you have to change yours after everything went down?” Anthony asks. “I don’t know how the media found mine, but they did.”

“Me too,” Donovan and I reply in unison. Not for the first time today, we have one of those moments where we all look at each other, realizing that someone else has been through the same thing we have. It makes me shift uneasily, though, rather than feeling comfortable.

The thing is, I’ve been very protective of my number since this all went down, but as I stand here watching Donovan and Anthony pull out their cells, I realize I didn’t hesitate to give Rylan mine. Not really.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want, Hayes. I can email you,” Donovan says, briefly taking my attention off Rylan and the strange things he’s doing to me. Do I want to share my info with them? This has been weird and awkward, but…do I want to be the only one not giving my number? That makes me a bit of a dick.

“I don’t mind.” And maybe that’s true or maybe it’s not. Sometimes I’m too up in my head about things to really understand how I feel about them.

There are missed texts on my phone when I pull it out. That’s not unheard of. My mom likes to message me, and there’s always reminders and dumb shit like that coming through, but the fact that I haveeightunread messages isn’t normal.

We swap numbers, and then I get the hell out of there before I lose it…and maybe before anyone sees us together. All we need is for word to get out that the Jilted Exes are spending time together.

I make it as far as my car before I’m thumbing the screen because I have a suspicion who it is.

Two words. Magic cum.

Did you watch the game?

I bet you didn’t. I’m really hot when I play.

I killed it tonight!

Hayes! Stop ignoring me. I need to gloat.

Though maybe it’s you who has the right to gloat. You’re the one who’s good pucking luck and all.

Oh! I have an idea.

My phone buzzes with another message, only this time it’s a video. I don’t even pretend I’m not going to watch it when Rylan’s pecs fill the screen because I’m a glutton for punishment. The way this man turns me on can’t be good.

It’s short. Just five seconds of bouncing pecs before some guy wraps his arms around Rylan from behind and the video cuts off. And…who was that? Do hockey players go around hugging each other like that? No way I’m jealous. I don’t even know the guy. We’ve only met twice, and those were both for sex, and I’m never getting in a relationship again, so I don’t have to worry about being cheated on. But Iama little curious.

Me: Coincidence.

Rylan: Come out with us tonight.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I nearly choke. Go out with them? What in the hell is he thinking?

Me: I can’t go out with you.

He can’t really want that anyway.

Rylan: Why not?

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