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CHAPTER FOUR

John

We’ve been taking photos for an hour to get the exact angle Stella wants.

I admit she’s a beautiful woman, and the sex is good.

I wouldn’t say the best I’ve ever had or earth shattering.

But at this moment, when the rest of our friends are throwing frisbees or running with Roscoe, Harper and Logan’s dog, I’m taking a million photos of my girlfriend in almost the exact same pose.

I don’t want to be a photographer. I want to be on vacation.

“I’m done. I’ve taken hundreds of pictures. Surely one is good enough.”

“This is my job, John,” Stella snaps. “If you weren’t a professional athlete, I would probably make more money than you.”

My brows lift, and my mouth hangs open. “Maybe. But by pimping yourself. Making it seem like you’re one hundred percent fulfilled.

Like you’re living your best life. Are you living your best life?

Are you happy?” I don’t wait for a response, opting to get this shit off my chest. “You obsess over tiny details when your followers would probably appreciate honesty. If you were real. If you didn’t have a face full of makeup while at the beach. ”

“Oh, like your precious Becca? All fresh faced and manipulative? Needing you to carry her because she scraped her leg. Please.”

I trail my fingers through my hair. “As a matter of fact, I think they would love to see what you look like naturally. You’re pretty without all of it.

I’m just saying that we’re here to have fun and blow off steam.

Hockey season starts soon, and we won’t see each other as much.

Speaking of which, I’ve decided to stay in Dallas.

I’m accepting the contract extension with the Rattlers. ”

Her eyes round, and she pops her hip out as she folds her arms over her waist. “Your dad will be pissed.”

“It’s not my dad’s life; it’s mine.”

“You’ve never been serious about me. I’m a trophy girlfriend who you love to have on your arm at red carpet events. I create buzz for you. And have you ever thanked me? No. You don’t care.”

“Exactly. I don’t care about being famous.

I care about being the best hockey player I can be, not the hockey player with the best arm candy.

I want more than that, Stella. I want love.

Someone who finds fun in sipping a glass of lemonade on the porch or wants to hike for the experience of being with nature and the person they’re with, instead of hiking to get that one photo that will be the envy of social media. ”

She spins her head toward my friends. “I don’t want the simple life.”

I gasp then let out a booming fake laugh.

“That’s not a simple life. It’s living in the moment.

You’ve had life handed to you, going to the most expensive private high school.

You have a trust fund, so you didn’t have to go to college or worry about money.

Yes, you learned to monetize your social media but Stella, you’re the very definition of simple.

Social media drives every decision you make. It’s that simple.”

“Ha! Look who’s talking. Your dad is a multi-millionaire.”

“I always had what I needed, but he never gave me what I wanted. ”

“What did you want? A daddy who hugs you and takes you to get ice cream. Or did you want a dad who stepped in to save your ass in college?” She pushes my chest.

How dare her. She doesn’t know what happened.

“I paid the price for Dad’s help. You have no idea what happened.

All you know is what you’ve read or what my dad has told you.

And while we’re talking honestly, answer me this.

How often do you see my dad? How many nights are you accompanying him to his dinners and formal events using me as cover?

Thomas Basilio’s escort is Stella Saccone, girlfriend of Basilio’s son John.

You’ve been seen with him more than me.”

“Well, at least he desires me.”

What?

Did she admit to screwing my dad? The thought has crossed my mind several times but I had brushed the thought away. A father wouldn’t screw his son’s girlfriend, even if we were on a break, would he?

My stomach doesn’t sink like it should.

My fingers move slowly over my bristled chin.

It takes everything I have not to laugh in her face, but instead, I grab my phone and pull up my travel app.

“You’ve been fucking my dad? I suggest you take this flight home,” I say as I forward her the flight information.

“Are you being serious?”

“Tell me that my dad hasn’t been inside you.”

Stella stares until her eyes fall to her bright pink toes wiggling in the sand.

“I’m waiting.”

“We’re over. And when your dad finds out, he’ll ruin you,” she says, snatching her ten-thousand-dollar designer beach bag while slipping on her one-of-a-kind sandals. She faces my friends on the beach, “Bye, have fun losers.”

I follow her back to the bungalow to make sure she doesn’t steal my clothes or worse yet, set them on fire. And no, I’m not going overboard. When Stella is angry, she lashes out .

“You know what’s funny, John? You’re not even upset that your father has fucked me. That he has taken what was yours. Unbelievable.”

I throw her luggage onto the golf cart.

“Stella, you were never mine. And I was never yours. We were using each other for whatever reasons. I sensed something off about you and my dad. Every time we had sex, there was always something keeping me from enjoying myself. Oh, and when you run straight to his bed, remember he’s using you too.

What I don’t understand is why he wants us to get married. ”

“You might find out sooner than later as to why. You’re an asshole.”

I’ve been called worse.

When the golf cart disappears from the tropical lined path, I sit on the patio in the cushioned rocker, thinking of my next steps.

Me: Send the contract here overnight. I’m signing the extension.

Ewan: It can wait til you get back.

Me: It can’t. My father may try to stop it.

Ewan: He wouldn’t go that far, would he?

Me: Have you met my dad? He would go that far and farther considering he’s been sleeping with Stella.

Ewan: What?

Me: Exactly. Send the contract.

Ewan: No need to overnight. We can do it digitally. I’ll email it over as soon as it’s ready.

Me: Good.

I pop the top off a beer and walk down to the beach. From this point on, I’m being true to myself and letting the chips fall however and wherever.

The blistering late-afternoon sun has the Stallion crew sitting under a large cabana with aqua-green striped curtains draping the outside, keeping the sun at bay. The front panels are pulled back and tied, offering an oceanfront view. When they see me, everyone quiets.

Corbin asks, “Is she coming back?”

“Nope. Stella’s gone for good.”

My friends mull it over that my girlfriend is on the next flight out after being here less than twenty-four hours.

“You are an asshole,” Reed jests.

They all join in razzing me.

“Yep. The worst.”

“So annoying.”

But Corbin gets out of his seat and slaps me on the back. “You’re a good guy. Don’t forget it. I know Becca and I never will. You were there for us when we needed it most.”

He pulls me into a bro hug right as the waiters bring in trays of food and drinks.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m good. It’s a relief that she’s gone. I couldn’t stand ten days of taking her photo and feeling like I can’t have fun because she isn’t.” As we fill our plates with fish tacos and the freshest pineapple and blueberries you’ve ever had, Becca sneaks between me and Reed.

“If you need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

I nod, not wanting to create more drama on day one. “When’s Madison’s plane coming in?”

“Her flight has been delayed out of Chicago, so who knows. She’s hoping by tomorrow.”

“Looks like we’re the only two loners so far. ”

“I’m not a loner. I’m by myself. There’s a difference,” she says, peering up at me with her pastel blue eyes.

“True. How’s your leg?”

“Good. Harper said it should be healed up by tomorrow.”

When we turn around, our friends have shifted around their seating arrangements, leaving two open spaces, side by side, for Becca and me. I gesture for her to sit first, then I swing my leg over the bench of the picnic table.

Food is the great equalizer. We’re all so hungry, no one says a word except, “Mmmm,” or “So good.”

The chatter begins when everyone is full, and Logan says, “Do you all remember how Harper and Hagan’s family have pajama parties for game night?”

“Yes! We should have one this week. Although they aren’t the same without Hagan and Adalee. I thought they were coming,” Brooke says as she pops one more blueberry into her mouth.

Harper perks up, “They’ll be here in two days. They’re presenting their idea for the renovation of Kodiak Stadium today to the management team. You should see the architectural drawing. It’s high tech but somehow, it resembles an old-time baseball park. I’m getting tingles.”

Hagan, Harper’s twin brother, played baseball for the Stallions and lived with Logan, Pearse, and Mac his first year.

Then Pearse went to the NFL, and Mac moved into the baseball house, making room for Harper to move in with her brother and Logan, which is why this isn’t only a Stallions Hockey reunion.

It encompasses many from different sports.

We partied at the hockey plex during baseball season, at Logan’s house during hockey season, and at the Home Run House during football season. Everyone knows everyone.

Reed throws his arm around Harper. “Remember when this guy hated me?” He hooks his thumb at Logan. Harper and Reed are besties. They were all roommates, then when Brooke and Reed became a couple, they bought a house next door to Harper and Logan, then the next house down was Hagan and Adalee’s .

“Still do,” Logan jokes.

“You love me.” Reed ruffles his hair, then hops up, slapping him with his beach towel, and Logan takes off chasing Reed.

“Boys will be boys, even when they’re men.” Becca chuckles as our friends follow them from the cabana, watching Logan chase Reed into the ocean.

But I hang back with Becca. “We’ll always be young boys at heart. At least when we’re all together.”

“Now that everyone is gone, you can tell me if you’re hurting.”

“Well, if you mean am I mad that my dad was fucking my girlfriend… I’m mad at him, but I could care less what she does.”

Her hair is in a bun on top of her head with two tendrils brushing over her temples. I wrap a piece around my finger, holding it steady without looking her in the eyes. “She was just a fill-in for the woman I’ve been waiting for.”