He sticks his hands in his pockets. “You wanna know what I think? I think you know he’s crazy about you, and you’re scared.”

I frown. Is that true? I…I don’t know. At first I was afraid for my heart, but after the ice skating lesson, I was in with him. Still, a trickle of doubt drifts in, reminding me of my past, of Bennett and my father and the scared girl who will protect her heart any way she can. I remember the girl who ran away from him at the Kappa party and then at his house after we had sex in his garage.

And, in the end, wasn’t I right?

“You could have listened to him, Sugar. I was there that night, remember? You gave up pretty fast.” He studies my face.

“Thanks, Dr. Eric, but you don’t know everything. And stop eavesdropping on private conversations.”

“You were yelling—kind of hard to not hear it.” Eric closes his eyes. “Fuck, Sugar, I’m afraid he can’t finish the season without you. He’s the most lackluster piece of shit on the ice. He comes to practice, does the minimum, and leaves.”

I don’t like the images he paints in my head and I steel myself against them. “You won the last game—”

“By a hair, and he’s not playing nearly enough. Coach is keeping him on the bench most of the time.”

My hand tightens around my purse strap. “Oh, so I should just ignore his deception so you can finish out your season?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know if that would work. I’m just coming to you as a friend to another friend who I know cares about him.”

I think about him at the fountain with Lola and—

“Everything okay here?”

We flip around and Julia stands a few feet away. It’s late afternoon and she’s ready for her shift at BB’s, although a normal person wouldn’t know just by looking at her bulky coat and joggers. I know because her hair is up in that Barbarella-style ponytail and there’s pink glitter on her eyelids. Bright pink lipstick colors her mouth, and she’s carrying her duffle, where I figure her shoes and extras are.

Next to me, Eric tenses up.

I look from him to Julia, seeing how his eyes run over her and bounce away, color blooming on his cheeks.

“You guys know each other?” I say, my voice oozing shock.

“No,” they say at the same time, both of their faces shuttering.

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me.”

They both ignore me, but I don’t care. There’s an edge to me lately, and I’m wired, ready to snap.

“Well, in that case, Julia, this is Eric, one of Z’s wingers. He calls everyone babe, likes to sing ‘Dick in a Box’, takes phone numbers from randoms, and eats cereal out of the box with his bare hands. Eric, this is Julia. She’s my roommate and if you hurt her, I will kill you slowly with one of your hockey sticks.”

“Oh,” he says, not even looking at me, his gaze on her. “Hi.”

Julia grimaces and stares down at the ground. “Hi.”

A few moments go by and no one says a word, and shit, I’m a little fascinated.

“So, you’re sure you don’t know each other?”

“Sure,” Julia says.

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely,” says Eric at the same time.

A slow blush rises on my roommate’s cheeks as she clears her throat and hooks her arm with mine. “I’m headed to BB’s. You want a ride?”

I won’t actually ride with her because she’ll be working later than me, but I say yes anyway and move away from Eric. I need distance from him.

“Sugar?” he says with a frown.

I look back, seeing the worry on his face, but I know I can’t go to Z. Willow is between us and I can’t…I can’t let that go. I give him a wry smile. “He knows where I am.”

His shoulders rise with a breath.

“I have to get to work, but text me, okay?” I say softly, not wanting to lose that connection, which is counterproductive, but it is what it is.

He gives me a nod, his gaze flickering over to Julia before he turns and walks away.

He gets just out of earshot and I can’t wait any longer.

“You and Eric? You slag.” I feel empty inside but I push out a grin.

“Never happened,” she says as we walk away.

“You lie, but I will get the truth out of you eventually.”

She throws an arm around me.

“This conversation isn’t over, Barbarella.”

She smirks. “I know.”

*

“What’s wrong?” Mara asks me a few days later in her office as I file some old invoices in the cabinet.

“Nothing.” I stare down at a receipt from the liquor warehouse and focus on that, ignoring the hole inside me.

“Uh-huh. I hear the Lions won their game yesterday against St. Cloud.”

I file the paperwork and slam the drawer shut. “Nice.” I guess that’s another win for us, and I’m glad. I want Z to succeed.

I feel her eagle eyes on me. “Word is your guy only played the first period.”

“Not my guy, Mara.”

“You only use my name when you’re pissed.”

“I’m not pissed,” I bite out.

She chuckles. “Listen, I know y’all are broken up, but I’ve lived here long enough to know he’s the biggest name to ever play in this state, and when he doesn’t play, something bad is going down.”

She’s prying because she cares, but I feel my defenses coming up. I plop down on the recliner and sip on the vanilla chai tea she made for me earlier.

A few minutes later, I say, “How do you know so much about hockey?”

“Just something I hear the customers say when they’re here.” She gives me a rueful look. “This town loves him. But now, I don’t know. Fans can be fickle, ya know?”

My hackles rise. If anyone bad-talks Z…

“ESPN is saying there’s a rumor he has a mental illness. One reporter claims she saw him break down at one of the away games, but of course, there are no photos to prove it.”

That must have been at Concord State. “Bitch,” I say. “What the hell is wrong with people? Can’t he ever get any peace?” I rub my temples.

“Ah, so you do care.”

I look out the window, my hand clenching my cup.

“I’m worried about you,” she says softly. “Do you want me to make you a lemon icebox pie?”

I blink rapidly. She knows the way to my heart.

“Sugar, I know you haven’t told me everything, but if you need to talk to me, I’m here. I’m not your mama and we’re not blood, but you’re mine by choice and I have no regrets. Nothing you tell me will shock me.”

I stare at her, taking in the big blonde hair and faded pink lipstick. I love her more than anything and she is my family. I don’t know why I haven’t told her what happened except that maybe part of me is embarrassed that he fooled me. I sigh. “He blames himself for his dead girlfriend’s car wreck, and I found a photo of her and…well, we look very similar…” I can’t go on. I don’t even want to think about the letter.

Mara fires up a cig and blows out smoke. “I see. A doppelg?nger situation. Sounds like a good HBO movie.”

I huff out a laugh and several moments go by. I feel her thinking, assessing the situation.

“When you were with him, how did you feel?”

“Feel? God, I would have burned the whole world down to be with him, and I thought…I thought he was right there with me.”

She takes another toke. “You say you look like her, and I can’t answer for Z, but I know you can’t fake real emotion. Those cracks always come through when something isn’t true. Your heart knows.”

My heart doesn’t know shit. It’s dead. Empty. I never knew a person could reach this level of…nothingness.

I run my fingers over the rim of the cup, and she sighs from her seat, moving on. “Speaking of breakups, I remember when Clint broke my heart. One night in Vegas and he was off with the wind, but he was upfront about it.”

I sip my tea. She always knows how to make me smile. “Give me his digits and I’ll ring him up. I could use some rebound sex.”

Her eyes flare and I have to laugh.

Julia waltzes in the door dressed in a new sparkly gold corset and booty shorts. She must have heard my comment because she looks straight at me. “That’s true. We really need to get you back in the saddle, my friend.”

“Doesn’t work for me,” I say.

Her hands are on her hips. “And I have the perfect guy—this dude named Dallas who mentioned to me he was in your poetry class. Apparently he saw us talking to Eric and he sent me a text.”

Wow. “He’s quite persistent.”

“Tenacious, which you happen to go for. Plus, he’s hot,” she says.

“Nah.” I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you need to go shake some ass, Barbarella?”

She snorts. “Mama does need some dollars, but don’t try your passive aggressive shit with me. I’m not giving up stripping, no matter how many jokes you make.”

I arch a brow. “Meow. Someone’s sensitive tonight.” I tap my chin. “Could a certain hockey player be the reason? Oh, wait, you don’t know him. Riiight.”

She puffs up. “I’m on a break right now, thank you, and you are not the boss of me. Isn’t that right, Mara?”

Mara smokes her cig, looking at us with a smile on her face. “Oh, she is honey. After me, that is.”