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My phone buzzes immediately. Sebastian's name lights up the screen, his text an inquiry in black and white:
Sebastian
Victor, noticed you canceled the investor meet.
Everything okay?
Sebastian's always been a low-level investor in my projects. All four of us have raised capital for each other when needed from time to time.
My thumb hovers over the keyboard. What can I say? That Avery and a bunch of kids have inexplicably become my priority?
Victor
Conflict with another appointment
I hope he buys the vague excuse.
He doesn't, and my phone rings, and it's like an alarm in my head. Sebastian doesn't waste time with pleasantries.
"Canceling investor meetings now? Since when do you put anything before business?"
I take a deep breath, the weight of his words heavy on my chest. "It's... I have to lead the hockey practice tomorrow."
There's a pause on the other end, and I can almost hear Sebastian's brain ticking over. "Hockey practice?" he finally echoes, skepticism lacing his tone. "You're getting too caught up in this community thing, Victor."
"Maybe," I admit, running a hand through my hair. It's a mess right now, much like my thoughts.
"Listen," Sebastian says, his voice taking on that older-brother edge I've come to rely on, "you need to distance yourself. You're there for a job, not to play Good Samaritan or relive your childhood dreams."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." But my heart hammers 'Avery' with every beat.
"Victor, don't let this derail you. Remember who you are—what you've worked for. You're the guy who never lets anything get too close."
"Understood," I say, but his words feel like stones in my belly. I hang up, knowing he's worried about me. Hell, I'm worried about me.
I sit there in the dark, staring at the black laptopscreen. The silence of the apartment echoes back at me, mocking, taunting. Avery's face flits across my mind's eye—her smile, that fire in her when she talks about her daughter, her community, her life.
"Damn it," I mutter, standing suddenly. No more. I shove the images away, lock them down. Tomorrow, I'll find someone else to take over the coaching gig. Sebastian's right: my judgment is clouded, and I'm losing sight of why I'm here.
With a resolute click, I turn off the lights and head to bed. The sheets are cold, and I shiver as I pull them up to my chin. I vow, right then and there, not to get any further involved with Avery Bennett, with the community, with anyone.
"Time to refocus," I whisper into the darkness, though the truth is, my focus has never been so blurred.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Avery
The chillfrom the metal bleachers seeps through my jeans, but I barely notice it. I’m annoyed because I feel nervous as I look out at the empty rink, knowing that Victor will be on the ice in a few minutes. Samantha elbows me gently, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes.
“Okay, spill. How was your ‘definitely-not-a-date’ dinner with Victor?” She air quotes with her fingers, making Erica and Jessica lean in closer, eager for the gossip.
My cheeks burn hotter than a summer afternoon. “It wasn’t a date,” I mumble, fiddling with the hem of my jacket.
“Come on, Avery. Dinner. With a man. Sounds like a date to me.” She nudges me again, her smile wider now. “Details, girl. We need details.”
I huff, crossing my arms. But who am I kidding? I’ve been dying to talk about it all week. It’s like this weird puzzle in my head that I can’t piece together. His silence since then just echoes louder every day. I shouldn’t care, but I do.
“Fine,” I relent. “But keep it down, okay?” I glance around to make sure no one’s within earshot. I wouldn’t want rumors spreading before I even figure out what’s going on in my own head.