“I think so, too.” I release a glum breath. “We were in the lead for most of the first period, until you guys left the game. We had it.”

“We had it,” he echoes, before taking a hasty sip of his beer. “And then we lost it because of me.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t get injured on purpose.”

“No, but my off-the-ice behavior cost us the game. I spent the last couple months banging my way through campus. And then when that got boring, I started hitting the bars in Boston and picking up strangers, and look what happened.” He groans. “Apparently Violet was aiming to get back at Hemley because they got in some fight. She knew who I was when we met.”

“Really?” I gasp.

“Oh yeah. And the first thing she did after I left was call him to taunt him about it. So the moment Hemley got on the ice during the finals, he started questioning me, and, well, you know the rest.”

Hunter shakes his head in disgust. It’s clearly self-directed, though.

“I never used to be like that. I hooked up, sure, but I didn’t make it my mission in life to sleep with any chick that crossed my path. I lost my head, became a ‘pussy posse of one,’ as Hollis likes to call it.” He offers a dry grin. “I need to clean up my act, get my shit together. I want to take the team to the Frozen Four next season. Nate’s graduating, and I don’t know if Coach will be choosing the next captain, or if the guys will vote on it, or what. But I want it to be me.”

I whistle. “That’s a lofty goal.”

“I know. And I plan on working hard to reach it. So…no more fucking around. Literally.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m taking a vow of celibacy.”

A gust of laughter flies out. “Um. That’s never going to happen. I give you one week, tops.”

“You think I can’t keep it in my pants longer than a week?” He looks mildly insulted.

“You’re a twenty-year-old hockey player. No, I don’t think you can keep it in your pants longer than a week.”

Hunter smirks. “Alright, then. Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

38

Brenna

“Holy shit!”

Dad, who’s cooking breakfast for us at the stove, turns sharply to look at me. It’s Saturday morning, and my phone screen is currently displaying the most shockingly unexpected news since that Toronto player Ryan Wesley announced to the world he was gay.

“Everything okay?” Dad barks.

“Holy shit,” I repeat as I reread the message. “Tansy got engaged.”

He blinks. “Your cousin, Tansy?”

“Yup.”

“Engaged?”

“Yup.”

“To who?”

“Lamar, that basketball player she’s constantly breaking up with. According to this, he got down on one knee at a nightclub last night and popped the question. He had a ring and everything.” I flip the phone around so Dad can see the picture she sent. The diamond on her finger isn’t enormous, but it’s much bigger than I’d expect from a college student’s budget.

Wow. I guess she wasn’t kidding when she told me they were talking about getting engaged.

“Oh boy,” Dad says. “Sheryl is going to shit a brick.”

I snort with laughter, and he responds with a loud chortle. It’s only been a few days, and our relationship is already different. It’s easier, almost entirely free of tension. Sure, we’re not going around hugging each other every other minute, but our conversations flow so much smoother, and we’re cracking more jokes. Real ones and not the sarcastic kind veiled with venom.

We’re truly starting over.

“Hold on. Let me text her back.”

ME: Hey!!! Can’t talk right now b/c I’m having breakfast with my dad but OMG!! Congratulations! This is amazing news and I’m so happy for you. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, T!! <3 <3

Am I more or less bullshitting? I’ll be honest—yes. I still don’t believe a relationship with their track record is going to last. Lamar proposed at a club, for Pete’s sake. But Tansy is my cousin and I’ll support her no matter what, so while I’m not jumping-up-and-down ecstatic about this engagement, I am happy that she’s happy. And if by chance I’m wrong and they do end up making it down the aisle, I do believe she’ll make a beautiful bride.

She texts back immediately.

TANSY: Thanks, B!! CALL ME THE SECOND YOU’RE FREE!!

I smile at the phone and put it aside as Dad carries two plates to the table. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and cucumber slices. I thank him for breakfast and immediately dig in, talking with my mouth full.

“I can’t believe she’s engaged. This is going to be such a disaster. She’s way too young. Or rather, way too immature. I mean, jeez, I’m more equipped to get married right now.”

His expression turns wry. “Does that mean I should be expecting you and Connelly to announce your engagement any day now?”

I freeze. Then I pick up my fork and spear it into some eggs. “No. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why’s that?”

I chew extra slowly to delay my response. “Because we broke up.”

“Why’s that?” he says again.

“Because we did.” I roll my eyes. “You and I might be semi-cool now, but that doesn’t mean we’re best friends. I’m not going to reveal all my deep, dark secrets.”

“First of all, we’re not semi-cool. We’re cool. Period. And given that you promised not to scare the shit out of me again, I don’t much like hearing this breakup might’ve been deep and dark.” There’s genuine concern in his tone.

“It’s not,” I assure him. “If you must know, Jake dumped me because he wanted to focus on hockey.”

Dad frowns.

“It’s totally fine. It wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. He’s moving to Edmonton, remember? Long-distance relationships never work.”

“Your mother and I made it work,” he says gruffly.

I glance up in surprise. “When were you and Mom in a long-distance relationship?”

“She was a year younger than me,” he reminds me. “After I graduated, she still had one more year left at Yale. That was the year that fuckhead made his move and—”

“Wait a sec. Back it up like a Tonka truck. What fuckhead?” I suddenly gasp. “Are you talking about Daryl Pedersen?”

“Yes. He was a senior like your mother. Same major, too. Broadcasting.” Dad smiles. “Like you, as well. Anyway, he waited until I graduated before making his move on Marie.”

I’m horrified. “Did Mom…?”

“Jesus. Of course not. Your mother was a sweet and proper Georgian peach. Loyal to a fault.”

“So Coach Pedersen tried to steal Mom away and she shot him down.” I’m utterly captivated by this. It’s always so jarring to remember your parents lived full, well-rounded lives long before you ever came into the world.