Page 29

Chapter 28

Rina

" F or the record," Keelan shouts into his headset. "This isn't what I had in mind when I said anything."

The helicopter dips down into the New York skyline, and suddenly, we're plunging down near buildings where people are busy at work.

"You said anything," I remind him, laughing as the g-forces from the drop tickle my stomach.

Keelan screams, and the sound makes me laugh even more.

Okay, maybe an extreme helicopter tour of the city wasn't exactly what he had in mind. But Keelan and I have never been on a real date and it felt like, maybe being in a different city, we should give it a try.

"I'm so glad we're waiting until after to e-e-at," he says, drawing in a sharp breath as the helicopter pilot pushes up and out of the area. He grabs onto my thigh and squeezes, and I put my hand over his.

"You know… I thought quiet, nerdy girls enjoyed things like reading in the park," Keelan says. "I was very, very wrong."

"Quiet and nerdy doesn't equal boring," I inform him.

"Clearly," he says, nearly dry heaving.

Once we're back on solid ground and no longer at risk of falling out of the sky. We sneak into a little hole-in-wall brunch spot I found online. It used to be a speakeasy and has now been converted into a local's reprieve from the big city.

"Just act normal," I whisper to him as the waiter seats us in a dark corner table for two. "We have to blend in with the locals."

"Ey, fo-get about it," Keelan says obnoxiously loud, and I bury my face into my hands and try to disappear.

The waiter gives him a look and tells us he'll be back with the menus, and when he's finally away from us, I throw a balled-up napkin at Keelan, laughing.

"That's you trying to blend in?"

"What? Isn't that how New Yorkers talk?"

I shake my head at him and try to conceal my embarrassment when the waiter suggests something that everyone from out of town tends to order.

I shoot Keelan a look that lets him know he did this to us, and he just shrugs and orders what the waiter suggests.

"Well," he says, taking a sip of his orange juice. "I gotta admit. You do know how to have fun. I honestly didn't think you had it in you."

I kick him under the table. "Of course, I know how to have fun. I just have to keep my business foot forward at work and you happen to almost exclusively see me at work. So…"

"So maybe we should change that," he says casually.

"Change what?"

"Don't just see me at work. Be my girlfriend."

I almost instantly deflate. I've thought about it. I really have. But I've had the conversation with Mack. I am not to fraternize with the players. A relationship with Keelan means the end of my career, clear and simple.

"Maybe one day," I say, pulling out my phone and replying to a text from Toby.

"Like… after we secretly elope in a Vegas wedding?"

I shoot him a glare because that's how Redmond and I got married.

"What? No… like when I feel like I've done everything I can do at my current position, and I'm okay with letting it go."

"Your current position?"

"I can't date you, Keelan. It's in my contract. I can't have a romantic relationship with any of my players."

He is about to take another sip of his drink but stops midway and sets it back down.

"According to who?"

"Didn't you hear me? My contract. This—" I motion between us. "Is a conflict of interest. And if it were to come out that I had a relationship with you… Keelan, I'd be fired."

"What? Mack wouldn't do that to you. She'd fire me before she'd ever fire you."

"Please," I say. "You're Houston's golden boy. The man with the master plan on the ice. She's not going to let go of her star center. It's me. I'm the dispensable one here. Which is total bullshit because we've both worked hard to get to where we are. But I'm not the one with the skills on the ice. I don't have a job without you."

I sit back as the waiter comes by with our food and sets it in front of us. We mumble our thanks but don't move to eat. We just stare at each other.

"So… we're just back at square one. Like we always are. Something is always going to keep us apart. If it's not roommates, it's exes. If it's not exes, it's work. It's just never the right time for us. Ever!"

I look around the small restaurant, grateful that it's dark in here as we have this very public exchange.

"No," I say softly. "It's never the right time for us."

He sighs heavily and reaches for his fork. I reach for the syrup and pour it over the stack of pancakes I ordered.

His fork clatters to his plate.

"This is bullshit, Rina. I knew you before we ever started working together. Would it make any difference if we came to the Heatwave already married? Because that could've been a very real possibility for us."

"It could've been. Once upon a time," I say, holding his gaze.

He shakes his head. "Well, maybe, if you would've told me the truth, it would have been," he says.

"The truth? About what?"

"About the baby, Rina. About you being pregnant with my baby."

I drop my fork, and the sound is even louder than his. Heads turn in our direction because he isn't exactly being quiet.

"How did you—"

"Come on, Rina. You really think I wasn't going to find out? That was a really big deal. A really big deal. It would've changed everything. Absolutely everything."

I scoff. "I'm sorry, are you shaming me for not telling you I was pregnant with a baby on the day you got invited to NHL training camp? Your actual dream come true. I came to tell you that day," I say, my voice rising in anger. "I came to tell you—even though I was scared. Even though I knew it was going to change things for us. But at the end of the day, Keelan, I couldn't take that from you. I couldn't take your shot at the pros away because I was having a baby. A baby that never came to be anyway, so what does it matter now?"

His chest heaves. "What does it mat—everything, Rina! Everything matters because of that. I would've gladly let go of that opportunity. I would've picked you."

"No," I shake my head. "You don't know that."

"I do," he says sternly. "I know that with everything that I am because I loved you, Rina, and I would've gladly given up that dream for another."

I'm still shaking my head.

"A life with you," he says, softer now.

I push my seat back and get up.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't do this."

"Rina, sit down. You haven't even touched your food."

"Don't tell me what to do. And don't sit there and pretend like you would've gladly done anything. Just admit that it would've been hard. Admit that the choice wasn't so cut and dry because we both know that at that age, nothing is. So stop pretending like it was the obvious choice—like I was the obvious choice. Because you had me, Keelan. I was there. I was with you. But hockey was always going to come first to you. Baby or no. Okay. So don't fucking pretend it was that easy. Nothing is that easy."

I grab my wallet, toss a wad of cash onto the table, and storm out. Keelan doesn't follow me. I don't hear him call out for me.

He just sits there as I walk away in tears, crushed, yet again, by the boy I could never have.

The only one who's ever truly had my heart. Even if only just to continuously devastate it.

"You're back early," Jenny says from her desk in the corner of my office.

"Hey, yeah. I just… I had a lot to catch up on."

"Well, I'm glad you're here because, oh my god, that indie bookstore fiasco. Gold, pure gold. Season ticket sales are through the roof."

"Mmhmm. Wow, that's… yeah, that's really great," I say, opening up my computer.

"Rina?" Jenny asks.

I look up at her. Not now. I don't need to break down now.

"What is it?" she pushes out from her desk and walks over to me. "Rina."

"Nothing," I sniff. She grabs a tissue from the box on Toby's desk and hands it to me.

"Honey, this isn't nothing."

I sniff again. "It's fine, Jenny. You don't have to do that. You don't have to be nice to me."

"Nice to you?" She scoffs. "Rina, you and I are way past pleasantries here. I'm serious. We were friends once."

I look up at her. And I see it. There's no animosity. There's no betrayal. Just a history. Two girls who met in college and fell for the same boy once.

"Ugh," I breathe out, looking up at the ceiling and trying to pat dry my eyes so my mascara doesn't run.

Jenny sits on the edge of my desk. "I'm assuming it's about a boy?"

I nod.

She hums. "Well… this sounds like a job for a mimosa. Come on."

"It's the middle of the day, Jenny."

"Up, up, up," she pulls my arm up and gets me to stand. "We are hardworking women, Rina. And if we want to have a mimosa in the middle of a workday, then dammit, we're going to have one and there's nothing anybody's going to get to say about it.

Three mimosas and a box of tissues later, Jenny is sitting next to me in the booth at Reggie's Eggies and squeezing my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you," she nearly cries.

"Oh, please. I was the bad friend. How dare I not even consider your feelings? I don't deserve your apologies."

"Shut up. Shut up right now. I knew that Keelan had a thing for you. I knew it the second you walked into class wearing his jersey. He claimed you. The first day he saw you, he left his mark on you. I had been talking to him on and off for weeks, and the second I saw that jersey on you… I just had to win. You know why?"

She holds onto my shoulders and looks at me. "Because I'm a bitch, Rina. That's why."

"Don't do that. You are a good friend. You got me out of the dorms and to actually have a life when all I wanted to do was hide away. You did that!"

"I mean, you were a little brown recluse," she admits.

I laugh. "Are you saying that because I'm Hispanic?"

"You know I didn't mean it to sound like that, but… yeah?"

She chuckles, and I laugh, too.

"Okay, okay," she says. "Obviously we both made mistakes. We were young and we were dumb. But look at us, Rina. We are women, dominating in an industry that used to only be reserved for the male species." She hugs me to her side and squishes her cheek against mine. "We are badass bitches."

"Badass bitches," I repeat.

"Um, would either of you badass bitches like a refill? Or water. Or a ride share, maybe?" Our waiter says, approaching with our check for the third time.

We both reach for it, but Jenny gets to it first. She pulls out her card and hands it back to the waiter. "Right now, all we need is a box for our food and the directions to the bathroom because I'm about to burst."

I turn to her. "Oh my god! Me too."

"Let's blow this popsicle joint," she says, scooting out of the booth.

"Uh, ma'am, you'll need to come back to sign," the waiter calls, waving her card.

"Right!' She says, helping me out of the booth. "I'll be back for that and my boxed-up food. And then, we're blowing this popsi-sicle joint," she slurs.

I burst out laughing as we go in circles, looking for the bathroom.

"It's that way," the waiter says dryly. "And I'm going to go ahead and call you a ride-share," he adds.

"You do that, Ernie," I say, patting him on the shoulder as I walk by.

"I-It's Eric," he corrects.

"Yeah, you do that, Ernie," Jenny says, stumbling behind me into the bathroom.

And as I stand with my palms on the bathroom counter, looking into the tarnished mirror, I start to sober. I know in my heart what this badass bitch wants. I fight it time and time again. I find excuses time and time again.

But no amount of mimosas can rid me of the truth.

I want Keelan Landry.

I always will.