Page 21 of My Best Bet

“What’s the one link between us all?” JP asked, staring at me with his bright blue eyes.

I shook my head, not knowing what he was getting at.

“I’ll give you one clue.” He cocked his head to the side. “He’s about eighty years old.”

My neck fell back and I squeezed my eyes shut.Fuck. The old man set me up.

“Hans always liked the girls better than us. We’re being punished!” Kappy yelled, pointing at the ground. Then he looked up at us with round, panicked eyes. “Guys… I can’t see her. I’m gonna be sick.”

I scoffed. “You had zero sympathy for me, like, five minutes ago.”

“Piper is different!” Kappy threw back.

JP grimaced. “He’s right.”

“How?” I demanded.

“Mer Bear just wanted toloveyou. Piper wanted to crush my manhood,” Kappy said, covering his eyes.

He could’ve just speared me through the heart with those words. I rubbed at my chest.

“Yeah, Piper the Viper scares me,” JP said. “Mer is gentle.”

She wasn’t gentle when she ripped my fucking heart out,I wanted to snap, then thought better of it. I needed to stop this, to stop thinking about her. Allowing myself to ruminate on her and our past would just be torturing myself.

All that shit was a decade behind us.

I didn’t know her anymore, and she didn’t know me.

But I couldn’t stomp out the little voice in my head arguing back at me.

Then why did seeing her make all the emotions rush right back? Why did I suddenly have to struggle to hold onto my anger? Why did I want more than anything for her to walk straight into me? Why did I wish she still wanted me?

I shook my head.

I couldn’t go there.

I couldn't afford to lose focus. I had Lucy and hockey. More than enough to keep my mind busy.

Breathing out a sigh, I threw the water bottle at Kappy. “You’re never allowed to call me dramatic ever again. We’re 32. Act like it.”

“We’re actually 14-year-old adults,” JP countered, moving to open my freezer. “Can I have this?” he asked, holding up ice cream.

“No, it’s Lucy’s. Fourteen? What?”

He ignored me and rummaged around for a spoon. “Well, eighteen is the first year of adulthood, so we’re just little freshmen adults when you think about it.”

“Who’s sick?!” Lucy yelled then, bounding down the steps that led into the kitchen.

“Hi honey, you want dinner?” I asked, feeling a rush of relief that she wasn’t locking herself in her bedroom anymore.

“Not yet, Dad! Someone is sick! Who is it?” she practically hollered as she jumped down the last three steps.

The three of us shared panicked looks.

“No one, honey.” I forced a smile, probably looking crazed.

Her little eyebrows drew together in determination. “Someone is! I heard it. Someone said they were going to barf!”

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