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“Try me, my favourite colour is pink,” I whisper, popping the P before standing up to hug Cami and ask her how her competition went.

Brunch continues, much the same, with me and Cami catching up with Mrs C while the boys continue talking sports before we all get ready to leave. The boys have to head to the rink for practice.

“You want to come watch?” Gunnar asks his dad. “Coach won’t mind. A couple of the other parents are here too.”

“I’ll never say no to seeing my boy skate.” He claps Gunnar on the back and looks at Mrs C. “You going to be okay back at the hotel?”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” She laughs at him, linking arms with Cami and me. “The girls and I are going for cocktails, and then you can all join us for dinner.”

Cami and I giggle at the plan we knew nothing about, but agree immediately, while the boys say thank you for the invite.

“Guess we will need a bigger table for dinner then,” Gunnar mutters, pulling his phone out. “I'd better call Sasha.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll do it; she can join us girls if she’s feeling better.” Mrs C says before walking out front to make the call.

“That’s going to go well,” Gunnar groans, and his dad throws his arm around his shoulder.

“Your mom’s never going to stop trying to crack Sasha, son.”

“She doesn’t need cracking. She’s not safe,” Gunnar sulks, and Cami and I exchange looks.

“To your mom, she is.” Mr C ends the conversation and follows his wife out the door.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Brooke

We head back to the apartment after cocktails to freshen up before dinner. The boys are going to head straight from the rink.

“You seem close to Gunnar’s parents?” I point out from the floor of my closet as I dig around for heels to wear with my dress, as Cami sits at my vanity finishing her makeup.

“Yeah, I guess we kind of are.” She shrugs, putting down her mascara. “They check in with me and ask how Gunnar is doing when he gets distant?”

“Didn’t sound like Gunnar knew about it.” I finally find some heeled boots, slipping them on over my tights.

“He doesn’t. I think they worry about him with Sasha, so I don’t mention it to him, and they don’t either.” She bites her thumbnail, which she does when she worries. “Do you think he doesn’t like it and is mad at me?”

I take a moment to look at her worrying, and it’s so unlike her; Cami doesn’t worry about what people think. She’s the kind of girl you take as you see her. So I’m a little thrown.

“I’m sure he was just surprised and will be fine with it,” I decide to reassure her, grabbing a scarf. “Ready?”

We head out of my room, and we hear someone shouting outside the apartment.

“Shh,” Cami hisses as we grab each other’s arms in the hallway.

“Did you lock the door behind you?” I whisper, and she turns to me, looking sheepish and shakes her head. We both groan, knowing Grant will lose his shit on us. “Okay, let’s move toward the door and lock it.”

We shuffle over, still holding each other out of fear, and I deadbolt the door as quietly as I can before I let go of Cami and drop to my knees and crawl toward the balcony.

“What are you doing?” Cami hisses, following me.

“I can’t hear properly; I want to know what’s going on.” I throw over my shoulder as I slide the door open slowly and crawl out.

“I’m so proud,” she whispers behind me. “We should have brought wine.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” a girl screeches from the divide of our apartments.