Page 17

SEVENTEEN

“Look at this.” I place a coffee and my phone in front of Ada, then perch on the corner of her desk. I’ve never been more thankful for a new friend. We already had plans to meet this morning, but I practically sprinted to Paws Chicago as soon as the doors opened.

“Is that him ?” Her eyes ping-pong between the image on the screen and me, each time her brows rise higher.

Yep, that’s him with a gorgeous brunette tucked under his arm. Jace is grinning at the camera, while the woman plants a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek. It’s his newest post, and the caption reads: Scored big time with this one! #NewRoster #StartingLineup.

And the pretty brunette tagged in the post? None other than Rebecca Solera, Ryan’s ex, or whatever he wants to call her.

Hashtag WTF.

“That would be him, yep.” I opt not to get into the details of the woman in the photo.

As she analyzes the picture, zooming in and then scouring the comments section, I take in her organized desk and the still-empty ones she shares the space with. It reminds me of the administrative office at the shelter back in Dallas.

“Wow, what a dick. What has it been, like, a month?” she asks, bringing my attention back to her.

“Just about, yeah. Why is this bothering me so much?” I take a sip of my tea, trying to clear the lump that’s been growing in my throat since I saw the post last night.

“Probably because you were with him for a long-ass time, and with lightning speed, he’s dating someone new? I think that’s a normal reaction. You’re actually pretty calm.”

Am I? Calm is the last thing I feel. The weight of it still hangs heavy on my mind. I barely slept last night, tossing and turning, replaying the sight of them together over and over like some kind of twisted punishment.

The whole day had been perfect with Ryan, finally feeling that flicker of hope, like we were back to “us” again after the whole All-Star kiss-gate. But then I got into bed and opened that stupid app. Seeing Jace with her felt like someone knocked the wind out of me.

Why does it still hurt? He shouldn’t have this hold on me anymore, not after everything. But still, it stings, like salt in an open wound.

But I’ve gotten so damn good at pretending, haven’t I? Good at showing people what I want them to see. It was practically a job requirement. Post the perfectly curated shot, while behind the scenes, everything is unraveling.

“I don’t even care if he’s dating someone,” I say, but it feels like a lie. “Okay, maybe I care a little. But it’s not because I still want him. It just feels… rude, right?” I ask as I slip into the chair beside her desk.

Ada nods and sips her drink. “Very rude.”

“I know it’s petty, but why does he get to be happy? I thought he was trying to sow his wild oats, but now it seems like he just wanted to replace me. He has a brand-new, full-fledged girlfriend.” My gaze drifts down to my hands, fingers twirling the gold band around my thumb. “What’s wrong with me?” I mutter, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Ada places a comforting hand on my knee. “Oh, honey, there’s nothing wrong with you. There’s clearly something wrong with him.”

“This is exactly why I’ve sworn off hockey players. Actually, no, I’m swearing off all athletes. They’re all egotistical jerks. They can have whatever they want, and the people left behind are just irrelevant collateral damage.”

“Amen, sister!” she says exaggeratedly. “How does that work with your roommate slash best friend?”

“That’s different. He’s not like that.” A blush creeps up my neck.

“Interesting.” Ada takes a loud slurp of her coffee.

My phone vibrates across the desk where it still rests, an incoming FaceTime from Natalie lighting up the screen. I prop it up so Ada can fit in the frame, accepting the call.

“Oh my God. Have you replaced me, Han?” I hate when she shortens my name. At this point, I’m convinced she does it just to annoy me.

I roll my eyes and introduce Natalie to Ada. Natalie could make friends with a wall, and with Ada and me becoming fast friends, it’s no surprise the two of them hit it off right away. Nothing brings a group of women together quite like a shared hatred for the same person, my ex in this case.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking. We need to find you a new boyfriend. Fight fire with fire,” Natalie dives right in. Of course she’s seen the post and has already come up with a defense plan.

“I love that,” Ada says, at the same time I practically shout, “No way.”

Natalie looks at Ada. “Don’t worry, we’ll convince her. At the very least, to a date.”

“Or hear me out; what if we get you a faux boyfriend? You know how social media works. It’s all an illusion. If you don’t want a real boyfriend, that’s fine. I get it. You’re in your independent era. But we can craft the perfect story online, something Jace will see, and it’ll drive him crazy.” Ada’s face breaks in to a sly grin. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of it.”

Since the breakup, I’ve kept my page radio silent, never giving in to his suggestion of a tidy breakup post. Would he even care? He’s the one who ended it, but based on how he acted during All-Star Weekend, I think it would rattle him. And the thought of that makes me giddy. I’d deny it to anyone who asked, but at least I can admit it to myself.

Ada looks pleased with herself, clearly expecting me to be on board. Sure, it’s a better proposition than jumping into a real relationship, and the karmic appeal is tempting, but the thought of going on a date makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Why don’t we table this whole plan until you’re here, Natalie?” I suggest, hoping they’ll drop it, at least for now.

“She thinks she can change the subject and we’ll just forget about it.” Natalie gives Ada a knowing look before turning back to me. “Sure thing, Hannah.” She winks, and I let out a sigh.

“We’ll let you go, Natalie. I have to get back to the real reason I came to the shelter. I’ll talk to you later.” I’m eager to end this call and topic of conversation.

“Think about it!” she pleads before her face disappears from the screen.

I slump into the chair as Ada asks, “Should I introduce you to Debbie now?”

I nod, and we make our way down the hall into another office. Unlike Ada’s shared space, this office has just one desk. A woman that looks to be in her forties sits behind it, tapping away on her computer.

“You must be Hannah.” Debbie stands and extends her hand.

“Yes, thank you for taking the time to meet with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. I’m always happy to help a fellow rescuer. I hear you’re hoping to launch a foster-based dog rescue?”

“That’s right. I’m getting ready to fundraise and file the paperwork to incorporate. I could really use some help making connections in the city, though. I just moved back to Chicago.”

“I’d be happy to help,” she says, massaging her temple. Then, as if a light bulb goes off, she adds, “We’re actually hosting an event this coming weekend. It’s our big annual fundraiser. I know it’s short notice, but why don’t you attend? I can introduce you to some people.”

“I’d love to. Thank you so much. It’s really kind of you to offer.”

“Of course. The more dogs that are rescued, the better I sleep at night. Should I put you down with a plus-one?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that would be great.”

Ada nudges my side and mouths, fake boyfriend. Great, more fuel for her “get Hannah a date” fire.

“Would you like a tour of our facility while you’re here?” Debbie asks.

“That’d be great. Ada has told me so many great things.”

I spend a couple of hours at Paws Chicago, meeting the animal residents and volunteers. I get a crash course in the organization’s history, how they’ve refined their processes, and the impact they’ve made in reducing euthanasia rates year over year. I take mental notes, thinking about what I can implement in my own rescue.

As we’re wrapping up, I check my phone for the time. Ryan was out of the house before I woke up this morning, but he should be done with his morning skate by now.

Knowing his schedule should probably freak me out, but it doesn’t. Unlike with Jace, I don’t feel like my life revolves around his. With Ryan, it feels mutual. Besides, he’s my friend. It’s normal for friends to know each other’s schedules.

I shoot off a quick text to him, too curious to wait until later to know what he thinks about Jace and Rebecca dating.

Me:

Hey, can I stop by the arena?

Ryan:

Always. Is everything okay? I’m heading to training, but I’ll let the front desk know to expect you. They’ll direct you to the weight room.

Me:

Perfect, see you in a few.

The Saints’ training center is pretty similar to the Dallas Spurs’, who just happen to be Ryan’s opponents tonight. Needless to say, I won’t be attending that game. The large room is filled with weight equipment, stationary bikes, and treadmills. The clink of crashing weights competes with the blasting music. It smells like the sweat of twenty-plus men, and I’ve got to admit, it’s not pleasant.

I spot Ryan pedaling on a stationary bike, with Ilya, their starting goalie, next to him. He catches sight of me and waves me over.

“Hey, Sunshine. Want a hug?” he asks, grinning wide and spreading his arms open, still pedaling away. His hair is damp with sweat, his gray shirt darker in patches, and his exposed arms glisten with perspiration.

I know the offer is teasing, but the thought of hugging his sweaty body isn’t as unappealing as it probably should be. Still, I say, “No thanks, I’ll pass.” Turning, I greet the scowling man seated one bike over, “Hi, Ilya.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, and Ryan slaps his arm. “Ouch, hi, Hannah,” he mutters before turning back to Ryan, asking, “Better?”

Ryan shakes his head, stopping the bike. We were almost the same height while he was sitting, but now, as he stands, he once again towers over me. “Let’s go over there.” He guides me toward a door that leads to a small room with a massage table. After closing the door for privacy, he turns to face me and smiles. “This is a pleasant surprise, you being here. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know if you saw what’s circulating online… you know, about… you know who.”

His brow furrows, clearly having no clue what I’m talking about. “Who is ‘you know who’?”

I laugh, but it’s forced. “Jace and Rebecca are apparently dating.”

“Oh.” His expression stays fixed in confusion, and when he doesn’t say more, my nerves spike. I start pacing the small space, unable to stand still, my mind racing as I try to figure out what he’s thinking. I’m usually pretty good at reading him, but right now, I can’t make sense of his expression. Is he upset that Jace is dating his ex-whatever?

His eyes track my movements, but he still doesn’t say anything. I pull out my phone and show him the post I shared with Ada earlier this morning. For a second, his face is blank, and then amusement spreads across his features.

“Well,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “that’s the stupidest caption I’ve ever seen.”

Laughter breaks the tension, easing the knot in my stomach. “Right? I thought so, too.”

“Does it bother you?” His voice is softer now.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bruise to my pride, I guess. Does that even make sense?” I pause, searching his face, but I’m still coming up blank. “What about you?”

He nods. “It makes sense. Does Knolls dating Rebecca bother me? Nah. Like I told you in Florida, it wasn’t serious with her. She was never my girlfriend or anything like that.”

“Have you ever had one?” The question comes out before I can stop it.

“A girlfriend?”

I nod wordlessly.

His brows scrunch together in thought. “I guess not. Unless you count high school.”

“Oh, okay. That’s good,” I say before realizing the implication of my words. “Not good that you’ve never been in a relationship… good it doesn’t bother you about Rebecca.” Welcome back, awkward Hannah.

He chuckles, but his expression quickly turns serious again. “I don’t like it because it’s hurt you.” His tone is relaxed, though it feels like he’s putting in effort to keep it that way.

His simple statement makes a tight knot form in my throat. I can’t remember the last time someone supported me so completely, someone who genuinely cared about the things that affect me, outside of Natalie and now Ada.

Not knowing how to respond, I close the distance between us and take the hug he offered earlier, sweat and all. He cups the back of my head, pulling me closer.

“Thank you for being such a great friend,” I murmur.

He tenses ever so slightly, something I wouldn’t have noticed if my body wasn’t pressed so tightly to his. “Of course.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “I’m guessing you won’t be coming to the game tonight?”

“I’m going to sit this one out.”

“Probably a good idea.” A mischievous grin pulls at his lips.