Ignoring the problem is healthier than facing it, right?

Okay, I’m not that ridiculous. But seriously. What’s wrong with going with the flow instead of overanalyzing every single thing in one’s life?

Honestly, I’m going to go with nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. Nothing’s wrong with sleeping with the same guy over and over without needing to discuss a future or a label or anything else at all. Only when the next hookup will be, and if we should grab food before or after.

This is why I most definitely should not have my feelings hurt over something as stupid as hockey.

But if hockey’s as stupid as I’m trying to make it out to be, why do I care Colt didn’t tell me he was on the team again?

Oh, I know. Maybe because I stuck my head in the sand more times than I can count when I was with Logan, and I don’t want my––whatever I have––with Colt to end up the same way.

Which means I need to be assertive. I need to express myself. Even when it’s hard.

Collapsing onto the couch, I send Colt a text before I can talk myself out of it.

Me: Hey. Are you still coming over after practice? I kind of miss you.

I hit send, drop my cell onto my lap, and reach for the remote as the front door opens.

“Hey,” Kate greets me.

“Hey,” I return, glancing over my shoulder. “You’re home early.”

“Yup. Gotta get ready for my date.” She bounces her eyebrows up and down.

I clap my hands and pull my knees under my butt so I can face her fully, grateful for the distraction. “You have a date?”

“Yup. He’s cute too.”

“And his name?” I ask.

“Wes.”

“And how did you meet mister Wes?”

“He likes to come to the restaurant.”

“Ooo, is he a good tipper?” I ask.

She laughs and nods. “Yes. And when the last tip had his number on it, I had no choice but to text him.”

“Obviously,” I agree as I glance at my darkened cell phone screen, revealing zero texts from a certain someone. But I shouldn’t be expecting one. He’s at practice.

I shake off the thought and add, “So. How do your parents feel about this little date?”

With a sigh, she rounds the couch and collapses onto the cushion next to me. “They don’t know yet.”

“Ooo brave,” I note. Kate’s relationship with her parents is complicated. While mine are absent most days, her parents are hands-on with a capital H. But I don’t blame them. Not with her history.

“Or stupid,” she counters, resting her head in her hands.

“You gonna tell Wes about…everything?”

“Discussing chronic diseases on the first date might be a bit much, don’t you think?” she mutters into her hands.

“Good point.” I bump my shoulder against her, causing her body to sway while alleviating a bit of the weight in the room. “You should go get ready. Don’t wanna be late for your date.”

She sits up and presses her hands to her knees, her fingers flexing against her black tights as she pushes herself to her feet. “Right. Or I could stay with you, and we could watch the Kardashians.”