Page 105 of A Little Jaded
Shit.
“In two weeks,” I force out.
“Two weeks.” He nods. “Got it. Which brings us to our next order of business.”
“What’s that?”
He pauses, and I swear I can feel the shift in the air, like he’s preparing himself for a kick to the crotch. “We, uh, we play the Grizzlies next weekend.”
My abs tighten on reflex, and I exhale slowly in an attempt to cover the flight or fight response flooding my system from the mere mention of Drake’s team, let alone the devil himself. Surprisingly, Drake isn’t a usual topic of conversation between me and Everett. Bringing him up twice in a two-minute span is more than I can handle.
My mouth feels like it’s been coated in cotton, but I force out, “Oh?”
“On their ice,” he adds.
My stomach bottoms out, and I stare at my hands, clicking my nails back and forth as I fight back the urge to yell at Everett when we both know he doesn’t deserve it. Still. The timeline makes sense. Why Everett’s been begging his coach to get back on the ice. He wants to play against Drake. To prove whatever shitshow Drake put him through a few weeks ago means nothing and he’s still the better player. The better man.
It shouldn't terrify me, but it does. The idea of them facing off. The idea of anything to do with Drake, in general. I wish I could take it back. Every moment with him. Wish I could erase it from everyone’s memory, including my own.Wish I could’ve been stronger. Could’ve seen who he really was.
“Stormie,” Everett murmurs.
The warmth in his voice cuts through the ice in my veins, and I peek up at him. “You’re going, I assume?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course I am.” He squeezes my calf again. “You think I’d stay away when I finally have a chance to legally beat the shit out of the guy?”
My expression falls. “Ev?—”
“Sorry, Stormie, but I wouldn’t miss this game for the world.” He leans forward and kisses me again, though I’m too frozen to reciprocate. “Have you heard from him lately?”
I shake my head. “Not sinceSpin the Bottle.”
“Do you want to come?” he prods.
My lips part on a staggered breath as I carefully consider showing up. Of facing him again. It’s stupid. He’s merely a person. A shitty person. A shitty person I want nothing to do with yet can’t seem to escape, no matter how much I try.
Do I want to see him again? No. No, I really don’t. But do I want to give him the power to keep me from attending a game my boyfriend’s playing? Not really. He’s already stolen enough moments from me. Adding this to the list feels…wrong. In a way, all of it does.
“Raine?” Everett prods. “Do you want to come?”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” I whisper.
It’s so weird. Talking about this. How easily Drake can completely taint a conversation, let alone a pretty awesome evening together.
“My parents are coming, too,” Everett adds.
“To the away game?”
He nods. “Yeah. You could sit with them. If you want.”
Sitting with his family? Why does it feel even more intimate than actually holding hands and snuggling on the couch with the guy?
Because it’s the next step. The next phase. Making this even more real. More…more.
I never got this far with Drake. In a way, I’m not sure I ever wanted to, even though it was so easy to blame him for not being interested in crossing that particular bridge. The truth is, I’m not sure either of us wanted to cross it. To move our relationship to the next level. But with Ev? Am I crazy for considering it? Maybe.
“Is it a bad idea?” he asks. “You sitting with my family?”
“Do you want me to sit with your family?”