Page 51 of Hockey Boy
“We can chat about that later,” Ryder says, his focus aimed solely at Lennox. “I’d love to hear about how you went from his wedding planner to his girlfriend.”
Lennox ducks and pushes a pink wisp of hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t like that.”
“It actually was,” I cut in, stealing the group’s attention again. I lift Lennox’s hand to my lips, drawing her attention too. Hers is the only one I actually want. If the entire room faded away, and for the rest of my life, she was all I could see, I’d be a happy man. It’d be an incredible existence.
With my focus solely on her, I speak the truth. “When she walked into the office for our first appointment, I took one look at her, and every feeling I’d had for her a decade ago came rushing back. And when she smiled”—I shake my head, brushing my lips against her knuckles as she stares at me, dumbstruck—“when she smiled, it felt like the earth shifted beneath my feet. I knew in that moment that the only person I could ever marry was my beautiful Lex.”
“So then what?” Nick’s wife asks, her hands clutched over her heart.
I turn to her, but in my periphery, I can’t help but notice that Jackson is about as red as a fucking tomato. Her mother has her hand to her mouth like she doesn’t know what to do with her face. Ryder is too damn enamored with Lennox, and Nick is just as captivated as his wife.
“I ended my engagement as soon as the appointment was over.”
Nick’s wife’s eyes light up. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Her husband nods in agreement. “That’s beautiful, man. I’ve got tears in my eyes.”
“So you guys used to date?” Ryder asks, still zeroed in completely on Lennox.
“We were high school sweethearts,” I say, my chest puffing out proudly.
“What happened?”
For the first time tonight, my throat grows tight, and I’m left speechless.
Beside me, Lennox tenses. “Oh, you know, college.” She shrugs.
I side-eye her, my heart sinking. To this day, I still don’t know what the fuck happened.
“I’m actually thirsty. Are you thirsty?” she asks me.
Clearly, she wants to get the hell out of this situation, so I give her a simple nod. It’s all I can manage, since words are still hard. With my hand against her lower back, I guide her toward the bar.
“Holy shit, it was like the Spanish inquisition just now,” she mutters.
No one is standing in line at the bar, so we order drinks quickly, then I lean against it while we wait.
“Also,” she says, her lips turning down, “what the hell was that over there?”
“What the hell was what?” I avoid looking at her. It’s taking all my self-control not to ask her what really happened all those years ago. Or to ask why the hell Ryder thinks he has a shot with her.
She straightens, pulling her shoulders back. “The story. The possessiveness.”
“What would you have had me do differently? Your father was practically offering you on a platter to skinny pants.”
The snort that escapes her is loud. “Skinny pants? Is that an insult?”
Annoyance floods me. Is she seriously defending the guy? “Men who wear cigarette pants are tools. But I’d never get my thighs into pants like that, so you don’t have to worry about me wearing them.”
Lennox assesses my fabulous thighs and shrugs. “Fine. So we don’t like his pants. You know I only stayed to talk to him the other night because I need him to agree to perform at that wedding.”
I let out a derisive huff. “That shouldn’t be a problem for you now. It seems he’ll be happy to make time for anything you ask.”
The bartender places our drinks in front of us, and Lennox immediately brings her wine to her lips and takes a sip as she studies me. Her assessment carries on for so long that it feels as though she’s dissecting my every thought.
I don’t like it one fucking bit. My thoughts are spinning out of control, and if she could see inside my brain right now, she’d know all I think of these days is her.
“You’re jealous.” She says it like it’s just occurred to her. Like she’s surprised by it. “Oh my god, you were jealous because Ryder talked to me.”