Chapter 49
forty-nine
INDIGO
I’m so nervous I could throw up, and I’m not even playing.
“I can’t believe we’re going to game seven in the finals.
” Lola bounces on the balls of her feet, clearly not affected by the same nerves I am.
Makes sense, I suppose. Megan isn’t playing tonight; she’s holding Lola’s hand, grinning at her overly excited girlfriend. “I’m so excited I could pee myself.”
“Please don’t,” Megan teases. “I have a spare pair of sweats in my trunk, but you’re so short, you’d be swimming in them.”
“Don’t worry, babe, I prefer diving into your pants rather than swimming in them.” Lola gives Megan a salacious wink that has her cracking up. Me too.
“I swear I’m going to puke,” I tell them. I felt this way before game five and again before game six, but it’s so much worse tonight.
Because this is it.
While a loss in either of the last two games would have meant they lost the series and the Cup, a win tonight means Sebastian and the Rogues are champions. If they lose, they will have come within inches of hoisting that massive metal cup over their heads, only to have it ripped away from them.
The pressure is intense.
“They’re going to win,” Megan says confidently as we make our way to the arena entrance with the throngs of excited fans. “They’re locked in, and their play has been top-tier the last two games. I fully believe we’re about to witness Rogues history tonight.”
“I hope so.” As the week progressed, Sebastian and the rest of the guys have withdrawn from normal life to give the entirety of their focus to strategizing, watching game tapes, and getting themselves in the correct headspace for a win.
I’m so glad we had that afternoon with the kids in his D&D club and that evening to make love, cuddle, and watch a movie.
It was also the last time I fell asleep in his arms. As much as we both hate being apart, I’ve spent my nights at the rental with Lola so I don’t inadvertently disrupt his sleep.
I miss him.
As we walk into the arena, more and more heads turn our way.
Excited fans stop Megan, asking for autographs and selfies, while Lola watches on with a proud, besotted expression.
People eye me too. I try to ignore it, but Bash and I have become quite the topic of conversation ever since Ryland gave that bullshit interview, and between my pink hair and the bright yellow WAGS jacket we’re all supposed to wear for this final game, I’m pretty recognizable.
If I ever see Ryland again—and I hope I don’t—I’m going to kick him in the balls.
“You okay?” Lola asks when she notices me wrapping my arms around my middle.
The arena is filling up quickly, and we don’t usually linger in the main public areas for this long.
We tend to beeline for the family box because I don’t love crowds.
But Megan has a line of adoring fans hoping to say hi or take a selfie, and most of them are starstruck little girls, so there’s no way I’m going to hurry her up to the box.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I scan the crowd, forcing myself to take slow, measured breaths. While I’m getting some curious looks, no one has come up to me or made any rude comments. It’s fine.
“We can head up to the box. Megan can meet us up there.”
“No, I don’t want to leave her here by herself.” I grin when a little girl with a missing front tooth squeals when Megan fist-bumps her. “And this is adorable.”
“Okay. We can text some of the ladies to meet you down here.”
“I’m okay, Lols. I promise.”
Megan signs a few jerseys, both Rogues and Lightning, takes half a dozen selfies, and when she’s sure all the kids have said hi, she tells the crowd she has to go.
“Pretty sure I just ovulated, watching you with those kids,” Lola tells her when Megan drapes an arm over her shoulders. “I hope you’re not planning to get much sleep tonight.”
“I napped earlier,” Megan says with a wink.
“You two are disgustingly cute,” I tell them, some of the tension leaving me now that we’re moving and there aren’t as many eyes on us.
Lola preens. “We are, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, babe. We are.” Megan chuckles and shoots me an amused look. She’s perfect for my best friend.
Before we came here, I imagined a million different ways things could go.
It’s the writer in me. It’s impossible not to imagine what kind of ending a story will have, even if the story is your own.
But I never could have imagined this. Lola and I both happy, in relationships, in a city that feels more like home every day.
Friends who are excited to see us and who could easily become family.
And for the first time, I realize I’m not thinking about going back to LA at all. I haven’t been. Not for a while, now. LA has never really felt like home. The only place that ever did was summering in Maine, and that was because Sebastian was there.
Because Sebastian is my home. I want to be wherever he is.
And it seems like Lola is starting to have those same feelings for Megan.
We’ll need to talk about it, but I don’t think either of us wants to leave the Twin Cities.
We’re going to stay, make a new life with our hockey hotties, become winter people, and leave the forced perfection of Hollywood behind us.
“The afterparty will be so fun.” Lola leans into her girlfriend. “Especially since they’re going to win.”
“Don’t jinx them, babe.”
Lola rolls her eyes at Megan. “You hockey players are so superstitious. It’s cute. A little unhealthy, but cute.” Lola looks over at me. “Is Bash this superstitious? He seems too logical for all that. Like, does he have to put his socks on in a certain order or someth—”
“Indigo.”
Lola frowns as a deep voice interrupts her. The frown deepens when she looks past me and sees who that voice belongs to. “Oh, hell, no.”
Time seems to slow as I turn toward the voice, even though I know who I’ll see.
What the hell is he doing here?
“No. Nope. Absolutely the fuck not.” Lola shrugs off Megan’s arm and steps between me and Ryland. “You need to leave.”
“Is this the ex?” Megan asks me quietly.
I nod, words sticking in my throat when I notice the number of eyes on us. Between Ryland loudly calling my name and Lola’s hissed and angry words, we’re quickly becoming a spectacle.
Which is exactly what I don’t want.
“I’m not leaving, Lola.” Ryland tries to dodge my short friend, but she’s two steps ahead of him, and he can’t. He always did underestimate her.
“How did you even get in here?” my pissed-off best friend demands. She looks about as threatening as an angry kitten, but she has claws Ryland would be foolish to disregard.
“Robert called in a favor and got me a ticket.” Ryland runs a hand through his auburn hair. He’s agitated. No doubt this meeting isn’t going the way he thought it would. Though why he didn’t expect this is beyond me. I was pretty clear where I stood the last time he ambushed me.
Too bad he’s not the only one who’s pissed off. My skin tightens, angry heat filling me. “Why would my dad do that?”
“He wants us to get back together,” Ryland says. “When I told him how busy you’ve been, he was happy to get me one, so we’d have a chance to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I hiss. “I said everything I needed to say the night you ambushed me.”
We’re drawing quite the crowd, and my skin crawls under the scrutiny of gawking strangers. A few already have their phones out and pointed our way, recording what should have been a private conversation.
No. You know what? It never should have been a conversation at all.
We’re so close to the family box. I’m tempted to push through the crowd and make a run for it. But the idea of something like that going viral stops me.
This is a lose-lose situation. All I can do is choose the less humiliating course of action.
Lola and Megan share a look, then both of them have their phones out, too, texting I’m-not-sure-who while they stand between Ryland and me. I inhale deeply, desperate to calm my racing heart. The most important thing is to keep my composure.
“Come on, Indigo. You’ve made your point, okay?
I shouldn’t have dated those women after you.
Not when I was still in love with you. I’m sorry.
You don’t need to pretend to date the hockey player anymore.
” Ryland’s voice carries farther than it should, because the people around us have fallen silent.
He did not just say that.
“I’m not doing this,” I say as calmly as I can manage. My voice shakes, but only slightly. My hands are another matter entirely. Clenching them into fists at my side, I hope no one notices the way they tremble.
“Come home, babe. Your parents miss you, and so do I. Enough of this little show.”
The air grows thick, and time slows.
This little show?
How fucking dare he.
“You need to walk away,” I say calmly. It’s the dangerous kind of calm. The stillness that precedes the most violent of tornadoes. The silence in the eye of a hurricane.
Ryland doesn’t seem to notice the danger he’s in. “I’m not leaving without you.”
“Indie?” Lexi’s voice cuts through the tense silence as my friends come rushing down the hall toward us. They all look pissed. Lola must have texted them. “Are you okay?”
I give my friend a jerky nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Mira, Isla, Blair, and even Reed flank Lexi. Ryland rolls his eyes when he looks over his shoulder and sees them. “Seriously, Indigo? I can appreciate your commitment to the bit, but you can call off the troops.”
“Bro, when a girl tells you she’s not interested, you walk away,” Reed says firmly, his chin lifted in teenage defiance. “You should do that now. Walk away.”
Ryland scoffs. “Stay out of this, kid. It doesn’t concern you.”
“It does, actually,” Blair’s little brother says. “Because we don’t take kindly to people harassing our family. And Indie’s a part of that family.”
“Damn right, she is,” Mira says, arms crossed over her chest.