Page 7 of Across the Boards

“Athletic,” Sarah corrects, her tone appreciative. “Very athletic.”

“Stop ogling my neighbor.”

“I’m married, not blind.” She turns to me with a grin that spells trouble. “So, how long has this been going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” I bite into my croissant with more force than necessary. “He locked himself out. End of story.”

“Mmhmm.” She settles onto a barstool, clearly preparing for a lengthy interrogation. “And the fact that he’s the gorgeous hockey player next door who happens to know my husband has nothing to do with why you’re blushing?”

“I’m not blushing. It’s...” I search for an excuse. “Coffee flush.”

“Not a thing.” She leans forward. “But you know what is a thing? The way he looked at you.”

“With desperation for caffeine?”

“With interest.” She emphasizes the word like it’s something scandalous. “The kind of interest Tommy had when he first saw me.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” I reach for another pastry. “He’s probably like that with everyone. Plus, he’s too young.”

“He’s twenty-seven, not seventeen.” Sarah’s expression turns serious. “And not all athletes are like Jason.”

The name hangs in the air between us. Jason Martinez. My ex-husband. Star forward and world-class cheater.

“This isn’t about Jason.” But even I can hear the lie in my voice.

“Isn’t it?” Sarah’s tone softens. “Elle, it’s been three years. Not every hockey player is going to?—”

“I know that.” I cut her off. “Logically, I know that. But?—”

“But emotionally, you’re still waiting for the other skate to drop.” She reaches across the counter to squeeze my hand. “I get it. I do. But maybe it’s time to stop assuming the worst.”

“Says the woman who married the exception to the rule.” I soften the words with a smile. Tommy Harrington is one of the good ones—loyal, kind, and completely devoted to Sarah.

“Exceptions exist for a reason.” She waggles her eyebrows. “And one just climbed over your fence looking like a Men’s Health cover model.”

A crash from next door, followed by muffled cursing, makes us both laugh.

“A slightly clumsy Men’s Health cover model,” I amend.

“Perfect for you, then.” Sarah sips her coffee, eyes twinkling. “Since you appreciate a man who isn’t too perfect.”

“I appreciate a man who stays on his side of the fence,” I counter.

“Liar.” She grins. “Now, do you want your birthday gossip or not?”

“Hit me.” I settle in, grateful for the change of subject.

“So, you know that charity gala I’m planning next month?” Sarah leans forward conspiratorially. “Guess which team just committed to full attendance?”

My stomach drops. “Please don’t say?—”

“Yep!” She nods, confirming my fears. “And their left defenseman specifically asked if you would be there.”

“How does he even know about me?” I demand. “We literally just met!”

Sarah’s expression turns guilty. “Well...”

“Sarah.” My voice holds a warning. “What did you do?”

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