Page 76 of Off Season

I tell them all about my dad leaving when I was seven, about my mom struggling to keep me playing hockey, about my name change and the pressure from scouts when I was only fourteen.

I tell them all about Ian and the way I’ve protected myself ever since, even by keeping them at a safe distance. By the time I’m finished, no one says anything for a while, but they all look shocked.

“Fucking hell, man,” Blaine says, breaking the silence. “I had no idea.”

“Kendrick and Peyton were the only ones who met Ian. I worked hard for you to see me as a decent captain, a good teammate. I didn’t want you guys to see me any differently or feel sorry for me.” I run an aggravated hand through my hair.

I’m not annoyed at them.

No, this is all on me.

“I’m sorry for not letting you guys in sooner. For allowing you to feel like you never really knew me. I wanna get better at being more open. It’s tough, especially when I’ve been keeping everyone out for most of my life, but you guys mean the fucking world to me.”

“You know we wouldn’t have looked or felt any differently about you, right?” Elliot says, worried.

“I suppose I always knew, but it was hard to trust that feeling. My past really did a number on me. Jacob was the one who helped me see things a little differently—that I’ve been allowing the ghosts of my past to dictate my future.”

Blaine’s eyes widen slightly. “Jacob knows all this?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I told him everything while we were in England. He even met Ian. And I also fell in love with him in the process and then fucked it all up when I couldn’t tell him how I feel.”

Elliot’s jaw drops open. Everyone seems to be in shock.

“Holy shit,” Kendrick blurts out.

Peyton sits to my right, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“The real question is—what are you going to do about it?” Jackson asks.

“I’m gonna get him back,” I confess.

Blaine and Elliot share a look, mirroring bright smiles.

“I think this calls for an Olsen plan of action.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jacob

With summer having well and truly arrived in Chicago, I’m making the most of my day off and enjoying the warm weather. I wiggle my freshly painted toenails, watching as the dark purple glitter sparkles under the bright sun, and take a sip of the frozen pineapple and cranberry mocktail I just whipped up.

Leaning back into the sun lounger, I let out a contented sigh and close my eyes.

This week was crazy.

From carrying out interviews for another member of staff as Aria is heading back to college in the fall, to completing some incredible wedding cakes and juggling my ever-evolving emotions when it comes to Ethan, it’s easy to say my brain has been feeling a little overwhelmed.

I know the pace I’ve been going at is unhealthy and that burying my head in the sand is only effective for so long.

One day, I’m going to need to bite the bullet and confront Ethan. I can’t believe I haven’t heard from him at all since we returned home ten days ago. He hasn’t stopped by the bakery at all or even sent a single text saying hello, but then again, I haven’t tried to reach out either.

I want to regret going to England. For getting on that plane, for agreeing to be his fake boyfriend, for meeting his mom and standing up to his asshole ex—but I can’t.

As much as I’m hurt and upset right now, it was still one of the most incredible trips of my life.

“No point crying over a real man when you can lose yourself in a fictional one,” I mumble to myself as I open my book where I left off, losing track of time until a loud knock at the door steals me away from the chapter I’m reading.

Slipping my bookmark inside to keep my place, I make my way inside. When I open the door, the last person I expect to see is standing there.

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