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My breath catches in my throat, and I look at him. “That’s in, like, seven months.”

His eyes search mine, a touch of uncertainty behind them. “Would you not want me there?”

I look down at the bubbles as they pop in my soda. So much of what I’ve been doing has been about living in the moment. So much of my life has changed dramatically in the past couple of months, to the point where I don’t really recognize it anymore.

But none of it feels wrong. There are no red flags when it comes to this boy, and I have to trust that he won’t screw me over like my ex did. I flick my eyes to his sister as she continues to laugh and joke around at the bar. I barely know his family, but already, I trust them. I trust her judgment of her brother.

But mostly, I trust my own.

Turning back to Jack, I hold his handsome face in my palms and pull his mouth down to mine. “I want you there.”

Me

I think I might be heading to the World Cup in June. Nothing is confirmed yet, but I’m being told it’s as good as done!

Ollie

You act like you’re surprised.

I am! There are so many strong options for center back. I thought I’d be last on the list.

You’re that good. Which is also unsurprising since you’re my sister and all.

Careful. You might trip over your ego.

It’s not the size of my ego that’s the problem.

Gross.

How’s my favorite hockey player?

Jack’s good. Jon is also fine. Other than the beating they took tonight.

The battery symbolon the top right of my screen flashes with a warning.

I gotta go. Are you still flying home for Christmas?

Yep. One of the benefits of playing in La Liga: they actually give you a rest instead of playing you into the ground like the Premier League.

Catch you later, superstar.

“Argh! Fucking bars, fucking phones.”

I hear boots cross the restroom as I lean against the side of the stall, and the hand dryer fires up.

“But most of all, fuckingmen!”

I don’t make a sound as the girl continues to ramble to herself in a mock voice.

“All I’m asking for is one drink, babe. I’m not like the other men who messed you around.” The hand dryer cuts out before immediately starting up again. “And fucking useless dryers!”

Kind of intimidated by what I might find on the other side of the door, I slide the lock open and peer around the corner.

Wavy light-pink hair is the first thing I see, followed by all black. Like, every item of clothing she’s wearing is black—from her boots to the skintight black dress that rides high on her thigh. Even her shoulder bag is black.

When the dryer cuts for a second time, she must hear me asI approach, and she spins around to face me, her striking black eyeliner skillfully applied.

“Oh, sorry!” Her cheeks pinken to match her hair. “Didn’t realize I had company.”