Page 65 of You, Again

“Good idea.”

“Sienna says you’re outta here in the morning too,” Trunk continued conversationally.

Vinnie furrowed his brow. “Sienna?”

And right on cue, a beautiful woman in a slinky floral sundress flew into Vinnie’s arms, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulder in elegant waves as she molded herself to his chest.

“Hey, handsome. Surprise.”

Oh.

Fuck.

A twitter and hum rippled and cameras flashed. I moved to give her room and found myself relegated to a spectator status while my secret boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend kissed him in front of…everyone.

And thatwasa kiss.

Not a sexy one—more of a mash of lips than anything, but it was still a kiss. It was the possessive kind that drew lines and staked claims. It was a reminder that Vinnie Kiminski belonged on a bigger stage with celebrities, sponsorships, fans from around the world, and infinitely more glamorous friends.

When she finally released him, she slinked her arm through his, beaming as she extended her hand. “I’m Sienna. You must be Nolan. Congratulations on your win.”

Oh. Fuck. September was here early.

13

VINNIE

Igently untangled Sienna’s arm from mine and caught Nolan’s wrist just as the photographer for the Fallbrook Daily cleared some hockey revelers out of the way to snap a few pics.

“This is wonderful! Our readers are going to go bonkers. Now can I get Mr. Thoreau, Ms. Montrose, and—don’t you dare go anywhere, Zimbo! Front and center, please,” she directed.

Another professional photographer descended. This guy wanted team shots with Trunk and Sienna, me, and…Nolan, but he was off to the side.

Then Ronnie and me with the coaches from all of the teams, plus Trunk and Sienna…and Nolan, off to the side.

And more of me and Sienna. A lot more of me and Sienna.

I couldn’t find Nolan in the mass of bodies anymore, but I smiled and tried to tell myself the social media frenzy was almost funny. Our tiny town was on the map for the first time ever and Ronnie was over the moon. Hell, everyone was.

The beautiful model and NHL players mixing with the locals was news. And after an epic win, it was almost too good to be true. Everyone sensed it and fought to capture the moment for Instagram likes and TikTok reels.

That was okay. This was all…okay. It wasn’t about me. Or Nolan.

It was about the kids.

I would have loved a minute or two alone with Nolan, but that wasn’t in the cards. Celebrations sprouted up all over Elmwood, even at the diner.

So I concentrated on being the life of the party. I congratulated the boys, schmoozed their parents, and shook hands like a politician, smiling till my cheeks hurt. I kept an eye out for Nolan too, but he was suddenly elusive. I’d spotted him earlier, helping his staff serve burgers, fries, and shakes by the dozens while Ronnie and I held court with the team and our celebrity guests on the back lawn.

“Your friends are cool,” Ronnie commented, fiddling with the bill of his Slammers ball cap. “And Sienna’s…very pretty.”

I glanced over to Trunk and Sienna chatting amicably with Mrs. Moore and nodded absently. “Yeah. Hey, have you seen Nol?”

“Not recently. He’s probably in the kitchen, but I—where are you going?”

I set my empty glass on a table and strode inside where one of my new favorite waitresses was busy with the counter crew. I had two things going for me just then. A, Dierdre liked me and B, she was too distracted dealing with a posse of teenagers ordering complimentary shakes. Those were the only reasons I made it to the kitchen without getting yelled at.

And then I bumped into JC.