Chapter 34
HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER
Ryker
As the wedding winds down, Ivy waves me aside. She tugs me along the corridor and into the alcove again, then stares at me, like she can see inside my soul.
“You’re in love with her,” she declares.
What the hell? She can see inside my soul.
“No,” I say, bristling.
Ivy rolls her eyes but says nothing.
“I’m not,” I add.
She scoffs.
“Seriously.”
She smirks. “You just denied it three times.”
“Because you said it,” I point out, annoyed, but not with her. Annoyed with myself for being so transparent even when I’ve tried to show nothing.
She pokes my chest. “You big lug.”
I narrow my eyes, hating that I’m cellophane with her. “Why are you talking to me about this here?”
“Because it’s so obvious.”
I blow out a harsh breath, then I defend myself. “I danced with her, and Chase danced with you. So how did you realize it?”
She flashes me an impish grin, like only a little sister can. “I figured it out the same way Grandma did.”
“And how’s that?”
“By knowing you. This is how you were when you met that—”
“Don’t say her name,” I hiss.
But Ivy goes quiet for a long beat. “Actually, no. You’re not like you were with Selena. This is different.”
I can’t leave that word hanging by itself. I have to know what she thinks is different.
“In what way?” I don’t bother to mask the desperation in my tone. I feel desperate for Trina.
“This is kind of hook, line, and sinker. And I’m pretty sure Chase is all in with her too.” There’s no judgment in her voice. No condemnation over the unusual nature of this arrangement. Just a simple question comes next. “So what are you going to do?”
That’s the rub.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “There’s nothing to do.”
“Because of the three of you?”
“Well, yeah,” I say, with a life sucks shrug.
Even if my sister’s cool with us, would others be?
My teammates? The rest of my family? And really, most of all, would Chase and Trina want to be in a relationship?
Maybe they like it for a week, but asking someone to be a throuple is more terrifying than facing down bloodthirsty teams on the ice.
“Please. You love who you love,” she says, emphatic.
I don’t disagree but I won’t get my hopes up. “Regardless, she just got out of a bad breakup. She doesn’t want anything more than something casual. She said as much. So even if I had a modicum of feelings—”
“You don’t have to be so Mister Vocabulary to cover up your feelings.” Ivy snorts.
“An iota,” I say tightly, refusing to give in.
“More like a fuck-ton.”
Fine. I hold my hands up in surrender. “Even if that’s true,” I continue, “there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s here with Chase, and he’s not into anything more, and…” What’s the point? The cards are stacked against us.
I drag a hand through my hair, wishing there were another way, wishing I didn’t have a pact, wishing I could somehow lay my heart on the line for Trina and not lose my best friend in doing so. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over her.”
But it will hurt, because in one stupid, annoying, amazing, incredible week, I’ve fallen in love with a girl who stole her ex’s tickets and then my heart.
* * *
A little later, we leave, but once we reach Chase’s home there’s a message blinking up at me on my phone.
Ivy: Call me when you get this.
That’s not foreboding at all.
In the garage, I step away from the two of them and dial her. “What’s going on?”
“Your ex did a podcast with the shit-tastic reporter. And it’s about Trina.”
I want to kill them before I even listen.