Chapter Seventeen
Bananas
Livia
“LET’S GO, OSPREYS!”
Clap, clap, clap clap clap.
“LET’S GO, OSPREYS!”
Clap, clap, clap clap clap.
The cheer rang out around the stadium, and I had no choice but to join in — mostly due to an elbow to the ribs courtesy of my best friend. She winked at me, clapping and cheering until I joined in, and then she celebrated the victory with a little shimmy of her shoulders.
Ava — Will Perry’s daughter — was next to her, snug as a bug between Maven and Chloe as we watched the final game before the team got some much-needed time off for the Four Nations Face Off.
Grace was still in Antarctica and Mia was still on tour, so it was just the three of us tonight, along with our favorite kid.
Ava Perry was one hundred percent the biggest hockey fan I knew.
She’d been into it ever since I’d met her — since she was born, I presumed — and now that Will and Chloe had her enrolled in a youth league, she was even more unhinged.
Add in the fact that her favorite pop star had become one of the crew, thanks to Aleks wife-ing her up, and you could say our little nugget was in heaven.
I watched her with a soft smile as she chanted louder than any of us, small hands cupping around her mouth to serve as a megaphone. When the chant ended, Ava screamed wildly and added, “Come on, boys! Take it to the net!”
Maven and I shared a grin at that, and then all our attention turned to the ice.
And mine went straight to Carter.
Lord help me, the sight of that man in his element tapped into the most feral side of me.
There was something about watching him play his ass off, something about how focused he was, how well he performed, how he seemed more on his game than ever that had me wanting to get on my knees and crawl to him. He was different tonight. He’d been different in every game this week.
He was locked in, his game effortless, his confidence beaming.
And I knew why.
It had been nearly a week since our exploration at The Manor — a week since I’d taken his virginity, plugged his ass, and led him through every wicked corner of that sultry mansion.
I’d watched him shed the weight of shame and perfection, seen the relief in his face when he realized he didn’t have to get everything right, that he was allowed to explore, to stumble, to laugh at himself.
It had been freeing for him.
And for me.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed that night until it was over — the rush of guiding him, the way he’d thanked me like I’d given him something more valuable than an opponents’ playbook.
After all the drama going on with my family trying to force me into attending my sister’s wedding, it had been a reprieve for me just as much him.
It had also surprised me.
I knew what we were walking into. I knew the play we’d witness, knew the way everyone would dress, knew that by the end of the night, I’d claim Carter’s virginity.
But I hadn’t known the way I’d feel when he swept my hair back before kissing me, slow and reverent one moment, playful and grinning the next.
I didn’t expect him to make me laugh when I didn’t think I had it in me.
I certainly hadn’t foreseen how I’d feel jealous of the first person to ask to touch him, that I’d mark him as my territory like a fucking dog.
That night had been on my mind all week.
He’d been on my mind all week.
And I heard a smothered voice deep within my soul screaming how much of a problem that was.
I’d convinced myself it was nothing more than the second payment hitting my account. It had gone through on Monday, another large chunk of change for me to add to my savings, another part of our contract complete.
Surely, that was the reason I’d been so fixated on him. I saw that paycheck and zeroed in on our goal, on the job I still had to fulfill.
I was just making sure he got his money’s worth.
That same voice within laughed at me as I found myself tracking him on the ice again. I did it without thinking, like he was metal, and I was a magnet helpless to resist.
He was crouched low in the face-off circle now, stick angled just right, eyes locked on the puck.
The ref dropped it, and Carter snapped it back clean to Vince before exploding forward, skating hard into open ice.
He cut across the neutral zone, dug an edge so sharp it sent a spray of ice into his opponent’s shins, and put himself in the perfect spot for the return pass.
The puck hit his tape, and in one fluid motion he curled toward the slot, pulling the defenseman with him. At the last second, he threaded the puck through a narrow lane — a perfect feed across the crease.
Vince didn’t waste it, hammering it past the goalie so fast the net barely rippled before the goal horn blared.
The crowd erupted, and Carter looked up toward our section in the stands. I couldn’t see his eyes from here, but I didn’t need to. I knew exactly how they’d look — bright and sharp, the edges of them crinkled with his signature smile as he prepared to land a joke.
I knew without needing confirmation.
He was looking for me.
A hot zing shot through me, butterflies fluttering low in my chest.
Thankfully, my best friend swatted them away just as quickly as they’d appeared.
“Come with me to get refills?” she asked, holding up her empty wine cup.
I nodded, and after we checked to see if Chloe or Ava wanted anything, we shimmied out of our seats and up to the suite.
We were sharing the suite with other wives and girlfriends of players — and me, who was somehow always included even though I was just the dentist. Then again, I guess if I was a general manager, I’d play nice with the woman who fixed all my players’ faces, too.
Maven was one of the favorites, the kind of woman every player and significant other wanted to be around.
I took up her side proudly as she flitted from group to group saying hi on our way to the bar, chiming in with my own stories when it fit.
This was the woman who had once felt unwelcome and out of place in a setting like this. Now, it was like she owned the place.
I loved to see that change play out in real time.
There was nothing better than watching a woman claim her power, especially when she was your best friend.
Eventually, we were able to refill our drinks — Maven a glass of red wine and me a gin and tonic. I went to fill a plate with chicken tenders and fries — Ava’s request — when Maven placed her hand over my wrist to stop me.
“Let’s pause. Ava can wait a second. I want to chat with you in private.”
My brows shot up. “Should I be scared?”
“Only if you have secrets to hide, which I’m betting you do.”
She gave me that sassy little whip of her head that always made me laugh as she dragged me to one of the high-top tables in the corner of the suite. Her eyes skirted up to the television as the crowd roared to a higher decibel, but when whatever was going on died down, she looked back at me.
“Alright. Here’s the thing. I may not be as good at this as you are, but I know when my best friend is off. And you’re off. So, I need an update on this whole wedding thing, and I also need to know what the hell is going on between you and Carter Fabri.”
There was a crack of a stick against the puck, but it might as well have been my jaw hitting the table.
“Don’t even try to tell me it’s nothing,” she said, holding up her hand before I could say a word. “Fill me in on wedding drama first, and then tell me what’s going on with our Center, or I swear, Livia, I will feed that Tory Burch belt you let me borrow to the nearest garbage disposal.”
“Rude!”
Maven just waved her finger in the air as she took the first sip of her wine, as if to tell me to get to yapping.
With a glare, I took a sip of my own glass before letting out a long sigh.
“The wedding drama is… relentless. My sister is begging me to come. My mother keeps texting me to say that I better be there, that I better not let Lacey down, but then she makes all these passive-aggressive comments that give away her true wish.”
“Which is?”
“Come on. You heard her when you were at my condo the night she called the first time.” I paused, not wanting to say it. “She doesn’t want me there, Mave.”
I didn’t know why my body reacted like this was shocking news, like there was any other wish my mother would have. I knew when she turned her back on me as a teenager that I didn’t matter to her.
But I was still just a girl.
And I wanted my mother to love me.
My eyes fell to my nails. I needed a manicure. My brain chose to focus on that so I didn’t slip too far into my emotions. “Of course, she doesn’t want me there,” I continued. “She can’t hide me if I’m in the same room as her and all her friends.”
Maven’s brows shifted inward. “And what do you want?”
“To not be in this position,” I answered honestly. “I love Lacey with all my heart. I’m so happy she’s found love, and I want to be there to celebrate her. But I don’t want to be anywhere near Mom and Dad. I don’t want to have to make nice with them when they… when they…”
I couldn’t say the words out loud. Fortunately, Maven already knew the story, so I didn’t have to.
I don’t want to have to make nice with my parents when they covered up their friend assaulting me.
I don’t want to pretend everything is fine when they cut me off the minute I said I wouldn’t stay quiet.
I don’t want to be in the same room with the person who abused me, who my parents sided with over their own daughter to keep their perfect little world intact.
I never let my thoughts get too far down that road before I ripped them right back on track. I was not a victim. I was over playing that part by the time I turned twenty.
I was a survivor, a woman who took back the narrative and control in my life despite those closest to me who tried to stop me.
“Lacey still doesn’t know everything that happened, does she?” Maven asked.
“You asked me that already,” I reminded her. “At my condo.”