Page 77 of Friendzone Hockey
By the fifth week, I let my brain break the news to me. They’re serious. Maybe not boyfriends, but at least dating regularly. I don’t know what to do with myself. Baking’s not cutting it anymore. Even Casey can’t keep up with my level of cookie production, and they’re rotting on the counter like my heart.
Maybe it’s time I do the same and find a someone too? At least a someone for the night.
What’s the protocol in this situation? Fucked if I know.
As soon as it gets dark, I slide into my leather jacket. Maybe I spend too much time obsessing over Dash and not enough time moving on.
“You going anywhere fun? Can I come?” Dash’s voice stops me before I can get a foot out the door. Did he know what I was up to? Nah, he couldn’t have.
“Thought you were with Gator?” Do I sound as resentful as I feel? Probably, but I hope not. I don’t have a right to. I’m the one who keeps drawing a hard line between us.
“He went home about an hour ago. We’ve been a little too hot and heavy—if you know what I mean.” Unfortunately, I do. “We decided to take a break.”
“Are you over?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
He shakes his head. “But we’re not serious either.”
Sure doesn’t look that way, but I swallow the bitterness threatening to foam its way out of my mouth. He needs this. It’s good for him. But it’s also his first real relationship since everything that’s happened with Robin. We should check in.
“You can come with me, but we’re gonna talk about things,” I warn him. He’s got his therapist now, I’m not his official mentor anymore, but I still look after him. That’s the deal. It’ll always be the deal.
His brown eyes brighten. Don’t think I’ve seen them that bright in a while, come to think of it.
We head over to Rodney’s, Kelowna’s Oyster Bar and Pub, to catch the Vancouver Orcas game on the big screen. I order his favorites and mine. I take a cool sip of beer, letting the foam cover my upper lip before I lick it away.
“Alright, lemme have it,” he says.
I frown. “Have what?”
“I can tell you don’t like him. And honestly—because I promised you honesty—you’re the reason I told him to go home. Um, he doesn’t know that, though. I told him I wasn’t feeling well.”
Shit. A terrible sensation crawls into my stomach—relief, blooming like a brand-new fucking day.
And that’s so unfair.
“I never said I didn’t like him. I served him coffee and everything. Did you miss all the cookies? I’m the supportive best friend.” It’s my new role dammit. If I can’t be with him, I’ll be there for him in every other way possible.
Dash plays with the condensation on his glass, drawing little circles, avoiding my eyes. “You did all those things, but I know you too well. You don’t think he’s good enough.”
I have to do so much fucking better. “Dash, your choices can’t depend on me, okay? If Gator makes you happy, I want you to pursue things with him.” I mean it, too. I hate it, but I mean it.
“I kinda like him,” he admits. “And he’s made me realize you were right.”
“I was?”
“Yeah, dumbass. I was heartbroken and angry when you said we’d never be a thing.” He finally looks up and reaches for my hand, squeezing it. All that relief I was feeling? Yeah, that’s gone. I already know it’s something I don’t want to be right about before he says it. What dark-ass timeline did I stumble down? “I trust you an unfathomable amount. Dating’s helped me realize how much I don’t trust others. Because I trust you, I latched onto you—you would have been an easy solution, but probably not the right one.”
Breathe, Alderchuck. Just suck in some air. Slowly. I do, but every prickle of oxygen is a shard of glass embedding itself to the inside of my lungs. This is sheer fucking hell. Just because Dash moving on is right, doesn’t mean it’s easy.
I place my other hand over the top of our joined ones, sandwiching his palm between both of mine.
“You don’t trust him?”
He shivers. It’s not cold in here. “I don’t, and it has nothing to do with him not being a stand-up guy. He’s been nothing butkind. Gator’s probably one of the sweetest giants I know. It’s a me thing.”
“But Gator stayed over. You slept in the guest room alone with him.” It takes all my willpower not to grind my teeth.
“Which was a pretty big fucking deal in and of itself, but what he wanted was me staying at his place. Stace? There’s just no way I’m ready for that. And in case you need me to spell it out, the only reason I could sleep in a room alone with him, was because I knew you were a stone’s throw away. Let’s not kid ourselves, I’m a fucking mess.”
