Page 2 of Play Your Part

Alexei Volkov was thelastperson I would want to get involved with, but I couldn’t get into the reasons without revealing my connection to Justin. And if I told her…with the way she liked to gossip, everyone in my mom’s Wolves superfan group would know within an hour.

“Oh, to be young again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Youareyoung.”

She flicked her wrist, dismissing my statement. “I’m turning forty this year. And I might still turn heads”—she flashed a dazzling smile and shifted her weight from one hip to the other—“but I’ve been locked down for a long time. Please don’t waste this dress tonight. I need a good story.”

Connie dotted a kiss on top of my head as she said goodbye. I closed my eyes, the gesture transporting me to two years ago, the last time I put on a fancy dress. My dad had insisted on hosting the season-opening party that year, even though he’d suffered a heart attack two months earlier. I put college on hold before my senior year because of his heart attack, so instead of being tucked away in a dorm at Prescott College, I was with my mom, setting aside our nerves and blasting music while we dressed for the party.

My mother had slipped her necklace around my neck and kissed the top of my head after securing the clasp.I’m so proud of you. You know that, don’t you, Kennedy?

I slammed the car door hard, trying to snap myself out of the memory and focus on tonight. I needed to hear Justin’s voice, to think about our future rather than my past. I dialed his number, but without a ring, it went to voicemail. We’d agreed to meet at the party and walk in together, but before I knew it, my car headed to his house along the route I knew by heart.

I never doubted my decision to drop out of school to be there for my father. But I never went back—at first because I didn’t want to leave and have something else terrible happen while I was far away, then because something terribledidhappen, and ironically, my presence hadn’t made the least bit of difference. After six months of rarely leaving the house or doing anything following my mom’s death, Justin made his way back into my life. We picked up where we’d left off, as if nothing had ever separated us. Every day, I felt grateful he’d pulled me out of my self-imposed grief bubble.

My smile at the memory of us slipped as his house came into view. A massive moving truck was parked in his driveway.What the fuck?I called Justin again, and again, only his voicemail greeted me.

Screw this. I charged toward the truck. “Where are you going?” I demanded of the first mover I saw standing beside the truck with a clipboard.

The man looked at me, cocking his head to the side. I wasn’t sure if his confusion stemmed from my formal outfit or my question. Perhaps both. “Who are you?”

“Justin Ward’s girlfriend,” I answered before firing the question again. “Where are you going?”

“Aw, hell,” he muttered. He cleared his throat, then dropped his gaze to the clipboard. “We’re going to Florida.”

Florida.My stomach sank as a roar filled my ears, blocking out the noise of the movers loading the truck.

I rummaged around in my purse for my cell phone as I backed away from the truck and moved toward the front door.

Still no answer.

Where the hell was Justin? And why was he moving to Florida without telling me?

I flopped onto the bench in the foyer and dropped my chin into my hands, at a loss for what to do, other than wait for him to come home and explain. When I checked the time, I saw a notification from our local paper.Wolves captain unloaded in shocking trade.The article announced Justin had been traded for two first-round picks and a defenseman. The team couldn’t come to terms with him on his extension. Rather than lose him next year without a return, they cut their losses and traded him away.

My father traded Justin.

“We taking this chair?” The words pulled me from my thoughts. A young mover stood in the doorway, flashing his toned stomach as he wiped his brow with the bottom of his company shirt.

How the hell would I know?They had seen my shocked face and heard my confusion when I first arrived. Since then, I’d watched them carry away the remnants of my relationship as if I weren’t there, ignoring me aside from a few pitying glances. I couldn’t imagine what they thought of me, wearing a dress fit for a gala and enormous heels, on the verge of tears.

“It stays.” Justin’s cool voice hit me before he stepped inside the house. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted me.

Like the first time I met him, those eyes of his—the most unbelievable blue I’d ever seen, just like the song—snagged my attention. Justin had a presence people couldn’t ignore, not with the way he took up entirely too much space in any room. It wasn’t only his height, which forced me to look up at him, but also his bulk, a bit more than most hockey players. But he always did like to stand out. This was why I imagined he liked to wear those tight shirts, the ones showing exactly how much time he spent in the gym.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, as if he hadn’t given me a key to come and go as I pleased, as if I hadn’t basically lived here the last six months.

“When did all of this happen?” I motioned around the house with my hand.

Justin’s jaw ticked. “When do youthinkit happened, Kennedy?”

“You told me contract negotiations were going well.”

His agent and the general manager of the team were quibbling over money and years. Or so I thought. Once Justin knew the contract wasn’t getting extended, that they couldn’t resolve their differences, he must’ve known a trade was possible.

I followed him to the kitchen, watching his brown hair bounce in its mesmerizing way.

“Contract negotiations ended two weeks ago,” he said.

---