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CHAPTER 6

RUSS

ONE MONTH LATER

Happy one-month best friendaversary!

Red

A good morning would suffice, bestie.

It’s not a good morning.

Why? Is my brother being an ass?

No. It’s not a good morning because I didn’t wake up next to you.

I should have seen that coming.

You would indeed be coming.

Promise

Absolutely.

Good luck in your final interview today! Let me know how it goes.

I’m still nervous about it, but I’ll text you when I’m done.

A m I obsessed with a woman I can never have? Fuck, yes, I am. We text daily— all day . I’ve been selfishly hoping she gets the job. If she signs on with Québec, there’s a chance I’ll see her when they play Vancouver.

And yeah, I lied to my little vixen when she asked about her brother. It’s been a fucking nightmare since I met his sister. He doesn’t suspect anything, but he’s been on my ass ever since that night.

Once practice is over, I check my phone, disappointed there’s no message from Scarlett. As I’m about to pocket it, an incoming text has it vibrating in my hand.

Red

I got it.

I knew you would. I’m so fucking proud of you.

Should we celebrate?

Fuck, yes! Give me thirty minutes and I’ll be home.

Vodka?

Nope! We’re breaking out the good stuff.

I don’t have aged whisky, bestie.

Leave it to me.

I place a quick delivery order that should arrive at her place in the next hour, then pack everything up and make my way home, hating that I’ll be walking into an empty apartment. Beav and Dixon invited me out for drinks, but my priorities are focused on exactly one thing. One person, really—Scarlett. From the moment I saw her, I knew she was special, and the tug I feel toward her hasn’t faded since that night.

As soon as I have my duffle stowed away, I call her, anxious to hear her voice. She picks up on the first ring, and I can’t help the smile spreading across my face. ”Hey, bestie,” she sings, and my heart finally slows for the first time since I woke up.

“Hey, Red, tell me everything.”

Scarlett recounts her interview, including several hard-hitting questions I knew—without a doubt—my girl would obliterate. Truly, she’s overqualified, but I’m loving the excitement in her voice as she tells me how she schooled them on arthritis in older athletes. Thankfully, I haven’t experienced many symptoms myself, but I love that she’s passionate about the care of her patients, even after retirement.

“So… are you really going to do it?” The hint of teasing in her voice is undeniable.

My grin hasn’t left my face, but it widens at her question. “It’ll be a rough three or so months, but I think I can manage.”

“Please tell me you’re not doing this for me.”

“One piercing for every month I can’t see you is a torture I’m willing to endure, Red.”

Fuck! I didn’t just admit that…

“What did you say?” she asks with a quiver.

“Nothing. Only that I’ll be tortured for a few months.”

She doesn’t buy my horrible save and sighs, “Russ, why are we doing this?”

My heart stops at her question, refusing to acknowledge our shitty predicament. Neither of us have admitted to anything beyond friendship. Sure, there’s fun banter and flirting, but I’ve always wanted more. Losing her altogether is a fate I’m not willing to consider. We may hide behind our friendship, but I’m hers. We both know it.

Her doorbell dings, and she excuses herself for a minute. When she returns, she laughs, “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?” I stifle a chuckle.

“You don’t happen to know anything about a mysterious delivery of your favourite whisky appearing at my doorstep?”

“Nope,” I reply, popping the ‘p.’ “Innocent until proven guilty.”

“The receipt literally says ‘from your best friend’, and there is no way Rachel sent it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she laughs, and the sound fills me with warmth like I’ve never felt before—except with her. “Did you send it?”

“You know I did.”

“I know,” she sighs. All of the levity has been sucked out like a vacuum.

Treading carefully, I offer, “We’re supposed to celebrate your new job.”

“You’re right.” There’s a faint sound of the wax peeling from the bottle, and I’m almost positive she’s taking a drink directly from it. She coughs, confirming my suspicion. “Bottoms up, bestie.”

“Hey, be careful! That’s not a beer.”

“I know what I’m doing, Russ,” she snaps.

“And what’s that exactly?”

Scarlett pauses for a moment before she answers, “Drowning my feelings.”

“Because you’re in love with me and wish you were here?” I tease, but hope blooms in my chest that I’m right.

“Yes.” The small word takes me by surprise, but my whole world crashes down around me when she corrects, “I mean no. We’re just friends.”

That fucking F-word.

I can’t bring myself to admit that I’m falling in love with her, especially with her putting up walls between us. I default to what has always felt safe—humour. “Friends who kiss and stay the night together.”

“Why are we doing this?” she echoes her question from earlier.

“Because no one can be best friends for just one night, like you suggested. You know me better than my therapist I’ve been seeing this past year. I don’t care what you want to call this, Red, but I’ve been all in since the moment the hotel door clicked shut behind us that night. I know how important this interview was for you, and I’m so fucking proud you got the job. Let me celebrate with you, even if it’s just as your friend.”

Scarlett blows out a long breath, then chuckles to herself. “We will… should. I’m sorry for questioning this, it’s just?—”

“I know. Should we also celebrate my new jewelry I’m getting?”

“To be clear, what you do with your body is your choice. But… I selfishly love that no one will touch you if you get pierced.”

Scarlett is the last woman I’ve been with; I don’t want anyone else. Keeping my tone light, I ask, “You like the idea of staking your claim?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I think I do.”