Page 30 of The Rebound Plan

“We’ll have to go in the hot tub after dinner.” Her gaze lingers on my face, searching.

“I’m fine,” I insist.

Of all of my new friends, Kiley is the most likely to see through that lie. We’ve gotten closer over the summer as she’s used her experience in theatre and live performance to help me develop my podcast ideas, and while she’s not nosy about my marriage at all, I know she also doesn’t have rose-coloured glasses when it comes to the WAG life. When she met Ty, she was recovering from being cheated on by her ex, and she was reluctant to take the leap to officially dating and all that this life involves.

She would be the first person to tell me that life is too short to stay in an unhappy marriage.

If only it were that simple.

And given how strongly she feels about infidelity—rightly so—I need to be extra careful this weekend. Whatever just happened with Russ cannot happen again. I can’t give anyone the wrong impression. Not Russ, not Kiley, and definitely not my jealous husband.

Even if he’s the only one who has broken our vows.

And Emery… I can’t be disrespectful of Emery, either. Maybe most of all, because I remember what it was like to be twenty-four and idealistic, convinced that learning how to feed a team of hockey players heading back into training was the way to a man’s heart.

“I was sent in to get the last of the salads,” Kiley says. “There’s apparently one in the fridge, too?”

I take a look, and sure enough, there is.

“Emery really is amazing,” I murmur. Time to believe that as the actual truth it is, even if it makes me feel small.

“Isn’t she, though?” Kiley says brightly. “I wonder if we’ll see more of her once the season gets underway.”

An uncomfortable pang zaps through me. I should want that for Russ.I do want that for Russ.

But there’s something about their dynamic that set me on edge earlier. I don’t see them as a couple in the long term. They aren’t right for each other.

His words clang again in my head.I’m definitely not a good boy.

I’ve never before thought about the type of woman Russ might need, and I’m not a matchmaker in general. On paper, Emery Granger actually sounds perfect.

But does she know what to do with a man who growls under his breath that he’s not a bad boy?

I know that temptation well. Once upon a time, I thought I was smart enough and sexy enough to handle anything—and I almost drowned in the storm.

Max saved from all of that.

When we get outside, I’m not surprised to see Max has parked himself next to Emery at the table, and he’s pouring her a glass of white wine. He’s drawn to pretty girls. I can’t blame him for that—it’s what saved me, once upon a time.

He glances up and gives me a quick smile. “Wine, hun?”

“I’m still working on a cocktail.” I slide into the chair beside him, which puts me in the centre of the table. On my left is Hiro Watanabe, and on the other side of him is Ty, who is still standing behind his seat, chatting with Russ at the grill.

“Emery was just telling us about the program in Boston.” Max slings his arm over the back of my chair, drawing me into a conversation he love—collegiate sports.

College in general. For Max, who has since gone on to incredible career highs, his college years were the best years of his life.

I’ve learned not to take that personally.

But those are conversations I struggle to relate to. Emery, it seems, doesn’t have that problem.

“You liked it, I gather?” I ask her.

“Best years of my life,” she gushes. “Did you go to Michigan like Max?”

Max answers for me. “Shannon didn’t even graduate high school.”

The terrace falls silent, fat sizzling on the grill the only sound for a moment.

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