Page 17 of Broken Promises

“I know. That’s how I became acquainted with your farting and snoring.” She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

“I do not snore!” I yell. Do I? She’s the only person I’ve ever slept next to.

“You didn’t deny the farting!” she calls back, and I laugh.

“I’ll work on clenching my cheeks while I snooze,” I promise.

“See that you do,” she says as she steps back into the room. Any smart ass reply I have dies on my lips as I take her in. She’s just in sleep shorts and a tank top, but it’s the way it all hugs herbody. Willa is fucking beautiful, and her body is killer. I seem to be just now realizing I have a wet dream for a best friend. And I asked her to sleep in my bed until I move into her house.Fuck me.

“Hey, Princess?”

“Yeah, hockey boy?” she says, getting comfortable on her side of the bed and turning to face me.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Willa smiles. “Stop thanking me and go to sleep.”

Turning the light off, I snuggle down into my bed. It’s a really expensive mattress to help with all the aches in my body after a long skate or a rough game. It’s the only piece of furniture I took with me from San Diego. It also usually puts me to sleep within minutes, but instead I’m staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of the woman in my bed with me.

“You don’t really snore. Stop thinking so loud so I can get some sleep.”

I laugh in surprise. “I knew it!”

“Good night, hockey boy,” she says. Her breathing evens out soon after.

“Good night, Princess,” I whisper and follow her into oblivion.

NINE

willa

I needto either get rid of the purple hair or get a less itchy wig. The hair has become part of my whole image, so it looks like the wig is getting an upgrade after this game.

“I look ridiculous,” I mutter as I shimmy sideways into the row and find my seat. The woman in the seat next to me laughs. She’s cute and looks about my age.

“Are you Willa? I’m Maggie Banks.” She points at one of the players. “That one is mine.” I look at who she’s pointing at.

“Your husband is Gideon Banks?” I ask, surprised. Dec said I would be sitting with one of the other wives, but I kind of assumed it would be one of the guys that don’t see a lot of ice time. Not the captain of the team. I thought she would be up in the WAGs box.

Maggie is around my height with curly brown hair in a bob around her chin. Her brown eyes are big and round on her small face, making her look sweet.

“He sure is. I have to wear the giant jersey too,” she laughs, gesturing to the Boston Bruisers jersey she’s wearing that matches mine. Declan insisted I couldn’t wear the type available in a store. I had to wear one he’s actually worn. It seems Maggieis in the same boat. Except hers is number 27 with Banks on the back, and I’m wearing Monroe with a 14.

“Possessive hockey players,” I say and shake my head.

“I know who you are,” she whispers, causing my whole body to stiffen. “Gideon saw you at the training center last week. Don’t worry. Your hubby swore him to secrecy.”

“That obviously didn’t work,” I say, but I’m laughing because she’s just so sweet.

“Gideon told me so that I could help you steer clear of any press. Your secret is safe with me.” She winks and then turns to watch the warm up.

Maggie asks a few more questions about the band and what’s going on with Ezra. She’s apparently a huge fan and is excited for the first episode of Harlow and Jo’s podcast,Melt the Ice, to drop. She even introduces me to the people around us. They’re all-season ticket holders that Maggie knows by name. I guess the seats we’re in belong to her parents, but they’re on a cruise. They have four tickets, and we’re only using two of them.

“You’re my security, aren’t you?” I ask the large and bored looking man sitting next to me.

“Yes, Mrs. Monroe,” he says, eyes scanning the area continuously.

“That one too?” I ask, pointing to the large man next to Maggie.

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