Grinding (Portland Icehawks #6)

14. Last Thing I’ll Admit

Chapter Fourteen

LAST THING I’LL ADMIT

~~Inez~~

My brain is racing to come up with a plausible explanation why my clothes aren’t really in the dryer as I walk into the laundry room. The room is quiet and deserted at this time of night. None of the dryers are running. I make a show of opening all three dryers. Then I straighten and scratch my head.

“I’m losing my mind,” I say with a laugh. “I guess I already came down here and got my clothes. Silly me. I have too much going on.” I take a sip of my wine and laugh nervously. Everly and Michella exchange that look . I know what that look means, as I’ve more often than not been the one initiating it. They think I’m hiding something, and they’re right.

My only hope is that I’ve given Camden enough time to escape.

There was a time not long ago when I shared everything with these two, and they did with me. That was before Michella and Everly got involved with Icehawks players. Now I don’t dare tell them the truth, though I’m dying to tell someone. They’d feel obligated to tell their men, and I can’t have that. Not in a million years. The more people who know about my attraction to Camden, the better the chance word gets out and it’s made into more than it is.

“Inez, have you been drinking without us?” Everly eyes me with suspicion.

“A little.” If that’s the least of their suspicions, I’m lucky.

“You couldn’t remember you’d already gotten your clothes out of the dryer?” Michella narrows her gaze. She’s apprenticing to be a private investigator, which makes her doubly dangerous. She’s attuned to body language and trained to question everything she’s told.

“I know. Isn’t that wack?”

“Very,” Michella and Everly say at the same time.

“Let’s go back to your apartment.” Michella heads for the door. With the quickness of a striking rattlesnake, I jump in front of her and block her exit. She glares at me quizzically.

“I—uh—we’ve had some strangers lurking around. Let me check to make sure it’s safe.” I poke my head outside. Camden is halfway across the parking lot. I need to stall a little longer.

Michella’s not having any of this bullshit I’m dishing out. She pushes past me. Everly is on her heels. I have no choice but to follow them and hope for the best.

Everly points toward the figure jogging through the parking lot, then breaking into a run. “That guy looks like?—”

“Camden? It can’t be.” Michella watches the figure disappear into the darkness before whirling around. “You had Camden in your apartment?”

“No. Do you really think I’m that unprofessional?” I hope my face doesn’t reflect my shame. I call forth my inner ice princess and turn my expression to ice.

“No, but you’ve been off lately.” Michella once again exchanges glances with Everly.

“Yeah, something’s bothering you.”

“Of course something’s bothering me. I’ve been promoted to a job that people think I don’t deserve, and I’m struggling to learn the ropes and prove myself.”

Everly casts one last glance in the direction Camden escaped before refocusing her attention on me. “Don’t even say you have no business in your job. You earned it. My granddad doesn’t do things on a whim. He rewards good work. He saw something in you, and he has absolute faith you’re the right person for the job.”

“What if I’m not?” I admit, realizing that this line of questioning, while uncomfortable, definitely distracts them from a Camden sighting.

“You are,” Michella and Everly declare at the exact same time.

“I appreciate your confidence, but Brian doesn’t share it. I can tell he’s unhappy with Mr. B’s choice.”

“Brian’s a fair man. He’ll see the light.”

“He is, and I want him to be glad I’m his assistant.”

“He will be,” Everly defends me. “You’ll be the best damn assistant GM the league has ever seen, and he’ll be so grateful to have you.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, Ev. Now, I need more wine.” I’ve dodged a bullet, and I’m doing everything in my power to keep them from shifting back to the subject of the figure in the parking lot.

I switch to another topic that’ll keep their attention off Camden.

“Michella, any news on the investigation into Gardenia’s dad’s death?”

“I’m not at liberty to say much, but I can tell you what’s public knowledge. Carla and I’ve accumulated a good deal of circumstantial evidence that points to his death being suspicious rather than a suicide.”

“I hope it goes somewhere. I know Gardenia is broken up over the entire thing. Besides, the evil stepmother doesn’t deserve the life insurance money.” Our group of friends has experienced more drama than most. We had a good friend who ended up being a serial killer. One of our group was kidnapped and held in a basement for a month by a client of hers. Another’s mother is missing.

We’d probably make a great reality show. Truth is stranger than fiction.

As we drink more wine and talk about the game tonight along with the usual girl stuff, the conversation comes back around to me, the last single woman left standing in our little group. My dating status is the last thing I want to discuss.

“So, Inez, are you seeing anyone?”

“No, I’ve sworn off men for now. Remember?” I’ve told them multiple times that I’m too busy with my career to give any attention to a man. In my experience, men require a lot of attention. I’ll be the first to admit I’m selfish, and I come first before any guy will. Except maybe one…but I’m not admitting my attachment to Camden to anyone.

“Your guy played well tonight. He and his linemates have built great chemistry.” Everly watches me carefully. I feel as if she’s probing for signs, but I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done to make her suspect there’s chemistry between Camden and me, too.

“It has to be tough never knowing if you’re going to be waived or traded. I think he’s been on four or five teams in a couple years.” Michella pours another glass of wine. I vow to call a ride for them. Neither is in any shape to drive home, and the night is still young. At least it is for one of our wine nights. We may not party until the early hours the way we did when we were younger, but there’s still wine in the bottle.

“Makes it hard to fit in anywhere because you’re never given a chance to fit in.” Everly and Michella are carrying on this conversation without me. They aren’t suspicious there’s something between Camden and me. They’re merely bragging him up to make me feel good since I went out on a limb to claim him off waivers. Let out a huff of relief, sit back, and let them talk.

“Has Brian said anything to you?” Everly’s attention turns to me.

“Uh, about what?” I’m puzzled, not sure what she’s getting at.

“Has he praised you for thinking outside the box?” Michella asked. “I think he’s a great GM, but if I could fault him, it would be that he sticks to his system and tends not to listen to his gut or have hunches. That’s where you can balance him out.”

“Well, look at you two being the hockey experts,” I joke.

“Like we have a choice? Look at the guys we’re with,” Everly quips.

“True that.” I laugh and hold up my glass. “To hockey!”

“To hockey!”

We dissolve into laughter though none of us really know why. It’s like this when we get together. We’re three very different personalities, yet we meld together seamlessly and have since our teenage years.

“I took Shelby home tonight. The asshole was waiting on the porch for her.”

“Oh, no. Did he look mad?” Everly’s kind face shows her distress.

“Very much so.” I leave out the part that Camden was with me and got punched in the face. They want all the deets, and I’m more than happy to give them. That’ll keep them occupied until I’m ready to pour them into an Uber.

Even as we’re discussing what to do about Shelby, my mind continues to take a detour back to a certain sexy hockey player who has the power to make me forget every conviction I hold dear. If these girls hadn’t interrupted us…

Even worse, I regret they did.