Brooke

Cami’s teaching me more hockey as they play, and I think I’m getting it slowly, like when Adam gave Grant an assist for a goal, I knew what that was before Cami pointed it out.

I’ve nervously bounced my knee for most of the game. The Drop had launched two hours before, and I hadn’t checked it since I was so focused on the game. Also, because I'm a scaredy cat, I don’t want to face the reality that it might flop.

My attention is pulled to Grant on the ice, who has caught the puck along the boards. He doesn’t rush, just waits for the perfect opportunity and slides a perfect pass across the crease. Gunnar intercepts and taps it in like a well-oiled machine the two work in sync to secure a goal.

He turns with that quiet, satisfied grin and a tap of his stick against the ice as he claps Gunnar on the back and. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t flashy. He made it look easy. Like he always does.

He passes by us, and I swear he winks at me, making my cheeks warm under my scarf, which I pull up a little higher to hide the smile he’s put on my face.

After the guys secure the win 3-1.

We head straight to the bar to meet them there. We order some drinks and grab a standing table up by the pool tables. The bar is packed after the game, and when a cheer goes up all around, we know the guys have arrived.

“Bear, you blocking that last goal was amazing,” Cami exclaims, hugging him as soon as he walks over.

He picks her up, making her laugh and walks to the bar with her to get a drink, shouting, “My good luck, charm everybody!”

“Congratulations,” I grin, hugging Grant, who had walked up behind Bear; he wraps his arms around me, lifting me off my feet and making my heart do cartwheels.

“Thanks.” He releases me to step back, but my hands linger on his arms, and his stay on my waist. We both just look at each other for a beat before he gives me the trademark cocky Grant Anders smirk. “Did you enjoy my goal?”

“I enjoyed the game!” I laugh, pushing his shoulder and picking up my drink off the table, taking a sip.

People start to come up and congratulate him and the surrounding team that have settled around our table.

I expect Grant to drift off and talk to other people, but he sticks by me, introducing me to people.

The glares I’m getting from the girls waiting for their chance to grab his attention are distracting, but I decide to just roll with it and ignore them, who keeps shooting me that smile now and then.

Just friends , I repeat in my head, but it’s nice to spend more time with him and see him interacting with his team. When certain guys mention something about what happened on the ice, he’s quick to acknowledge and praise or give advice.

He also talks them through the weak points of their opponents; he includes me in explaining more of the game I haven’t grasped yet, and I’m hooked on his every word, just like his teammates.

He’s so good at this, I can see why he made captain this year; you can tell these guys have so much respect for him by how they hang on to his every word.

My phone buzzes in my purse, and I decide to take the plunge and step away. As I finally check my phone, I see that the notifications tab for the sale has gone wild.

I open it and scan the listings. Every item is SOLD.

I stand in shock just looking at my phone, and Cami comes over to me and flings an arm over my shoulder, so I angle the phone toward her, biting my lip nervously, and she screams, grabbing the attention of everyone near us.

“Oh my god, that's amazing! And this is only the first sale.” She jumps up and down, dragging me with her until I give in and jump along with her.

She grabs my phone and shows it to the guys who have all moved over to look at what's gotten us so excited, and soon the entire team huddles around my phone to look.

“Can we find out how quickly they sold?” Adam asks, holding my phone and scrolling through the list. “I must have outsold these guys,” he scoffs, jabbing a thumb towards his teammates, who start shoving him in retaliation.

“Er, even if I could, I don’t think your ego needs it.” I shake my head and laugh as I take my phone back from him and turn toward the bar.

“I can get you another drink,” Grant says, moving toward the steps down from the pool area, but I wave him off, pushing him by the arm back towards the pool table.

“I’m good; you can call the next game.” I receive a smile and a nod, and I turn to the bar again.

It’s thinned out now, so I make it up to the bar straight away.

As I wait to be served, I finally let it all sink in.

This was all me. My idea and I had made it happen.

It did well, I mean I don’t want to get ahead of myself there was probably a lot of tweaks that need to be done and still a lot to do but I feel positive for once since this whole mess of the last month had started I was finally feeling like I was more my authentic self than ever.

Sighing, I bite my lip to hold back the huge smile trying to take over my face.

I get the bartender’s attention, ordering another vodka cranberry, and as I’m about to hand over my cash, a hand shoots out from behind me.

I roll my eyes, annoyed Grant didn’t listen to me, but turn to say thanks anyway and tease him for not listening to me.

But the words die on my lips, as it's not Grant's blue eyes flecked with grey; I stare into Josh's murky brown ones.

Josh, my ex of a month. Josh, the guy who let my mother pay him to date me.

When I texted him, I couldn’t have made it any clearer that I did not want to see him ever again.

Still, here he was, after I blocked him, after Cami blocked him, and the hundred roses that arrived at the apartment complex a couple of weeks ago, which went ignored, and I also told no one about it because it was embarrassing.

Josh is the type of guy who’s never been able to take a hint if it hit him in the face.

“No need to thank me, I figured you can drink that while we talk.” He smirks, and I frown. It's more rehearsed than real, doing nothing for me. I can't help but compare it to Grant's smirk, which is lazy and a little cocky, as if he knows exactly what it will do to me.

“I don’t have a lot to say,” I regain my voice and reply, moving to slip by him.

“Come on, Brooke.” He huffs, turning with me as I slip past people on their way to the bar. “I get your upset, but you won’t talk to me or your mom. What are we supposed to do? We both apologised.”

“First, my mom didn’t apologise; she asked me to apologise to your parents, which, if I’m being honest, they should apologise to me.

That hill outside your house is a health and safety risk that someone should look into.

” I turn around to face him again once we are in a clearer area away from people and poke him in the chest. “Second, just because you apologised doesn’t mean I need to forgive you.

” Josh is rubbing his chest where I poked him, potentially a little too hard and staring at me with his mouth open like a fish.

“I don’t have to or want to speak to either of you. ”

I finish and stare at him. I realise it’s like looking at a stranger. I haven’t seen him in a month. I thought when I saw him, I would be heartbroken and crushed all over again, but I just feel like I’m staring at any other guy.

I mean, I’m waiting for the sadness, and I’ve got nada.

“Just give me a chance to explain. It’s not as bad as it seems,” he pleads with me, taking a step forward, and I take one back, making it clear I don't want him near me. “I was planning our lives together. You’ve got to understand it’s not what it seemed like.”

“Seriously? I don’t think there is anything you can say that would make me understand how you could do that to me.” I say with an indifferent shrug, I'm done talking with him. I turn to scan behind me, up by the pool tables, my friends and the hockey team are having a good time.

“The hockey guys? Seriously, Brooke, they are bad news,” Josh scoffs, noticing where I’m looking. “When I heard you were hanging with them, I thought you were just trying to get my attention, but you enjoy spending time with those assholes.”

He’s so delusional, he thinks I would block all his messages and calls, but still try to get his attention?

“It’s a good thing what I do or don't do is none of your concern anymore, huh?” I say before I turn around to walk up the steps.

“Those assholes have been there for me every day since you ruined us, and I promise I’m not trying to get your attention, Josh, so quit bothering me. ”

“I’ll be waiting when you get bored with this little project and friends,” he fires the hurtful shot as I walk up the steps to the raised pool area away from him, and I try not to let it sting after my conversation with Grant’s conversation about pressure getting to me this week.

“He give you any trouble?” Grant nods behind me as I approach, setting my drink on the table and not touching it. I don’t need Josh’s tainted drink.

“Oh, so you could see the damsel in distress,” I tease, smiling, trying to shake off my talk with Josh, my bravado having left me when I walked away.

“If I didn’t think you could hold your own, I would have been over in a heartbeat,” he says, looking concerned, and I draw my lips in and turn away so he can’t see me blush.

“Anyway,” I sing, deflecting. “He didn’t give me too much trouble, just told me to stay away from hockey guys. Did you guys know you’re all assholes?”

“Ah, of course.” He sidles up next to me, giving me a nudge as I smile, not looking at him, pretending to ignore him while watching Cami and Gunnar play Adam and Bear at the pool. “Are you going to listen to him?”

“Of course,” I say seriously, finally looking him in the eye. “I always listen to my ex-boyfriend’s advice.” Smirking up at him, he slowly smirks back at me, and there it is. I swear, if I weren’t leaning against the table, my knees would have given out.