41. Ryan
“June’s not replying to my texts.” I stare at the phone as if it’ll magically make her reply.
“She must have put it on silent, you eejit,” Lachy grumbles from the shotgun seat. “It’s late, and she didn’t sleep much last night.”
I frown. “Hey, there’s no need to be aggressive.”
“I’m not.” Lachy turns to Jake. “How many painkillers did they give him?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“I’m not high,” I argue. “I feel fine.” I shake my head, and the world spins. “Shit. Stop driving like a maniac, Jakey.”
“Oh God. I won’t bloody survive the evening,” Lachy groans.
I ignore him and send another message to June.
We’re almost home. I can bake another tres leches cake.
“For fuck’s sake. They turned Ryan into a horny teenager.” Lachy shows his phone to Jake. “Look at all the emojis he sent June.”
“Why are you reading my messages?” I retort. “They’re private.”
Jake laughs. “You’ve been using the group chat, dumbass.”
“Oops.” I chuckle. “Maybe that’s why she’s not answering. She’s mad at one of you, not me.”
“Why would she be angry with us? We’ve done nothing wrong.” Lachy turns to me.
“I bet you never told June you were engaged before, and Jake let June hang out with the WAGs. God knows what those women told her.”
Jake groans. “Fuck. I hate to admit it, but Ryan is right. That wasn’t a smart move.”
“I didn’t tell June I was engaged before because it never came up,” Lachy grumbles.
“I’m the only one who has come clean to her,” I say proudly.
“About what?” Jake asks.
“Probably that he’s a neat freak who pre-selects his outfits for the week.” Lachy snickers.
“Laugh all you want. I don’t see that as a flaw. Besides, that wasn’t my confession.” I put the phone away before I tell June I love her, which would be insane and not true, right?
Oh Jesus. Maybe I am a bit high.
“What was your confession then?” Jake looks at me through the rearview mirror.
“I told her about Mackenzie.” My statement is followed by silence supreme. “Wow. I stunned both of you.”
“You did. You must like June a lot,” Jake finally replies.
“Like you and Lachy do?” I arch a brow that neither can see because it’s fucking dark in the back seat.
They don’t reply, and their silence makes me chuckle. “Who knew we would all fall for the hot middle-school teacher.”
“That’s not what’s happening here,” Jake retorts. “She’s just different and exciting.”
“You sound like me—in complete denial. Only Lachy has the balls to put himself out there. Too bad he did it first with that conniving bitch. Honestly, what did you ever see in Lorena Pearson?”
Lachy looks out the window. “We’re not talking about her.”
I shrug, forgetting that my shoulder is busted. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay there?” Jake asks, concerned.
“I’ll live. Man, that Kaminski is a menace on the ice. And they got two of them! I can’t tell those twins apart.”
“Alex Kaminski came to me after the game to ask about you,” Jake pipes up.
My brows shoot up. “He did? That was unexpected.”
“He’s a good kid, and the hit wasn’t dirty. It was just bad luck.” Jake sounds almost proud. It takes a lot to impress the guy. Alex Kaminski must be special.
“If he’s that good, maybe we can steal him from the Lions in a couple years,” I say.
“Or trade Malcolm for him,” Lachy adds.
“Dude! He had my back,” I retort.
“But he doesn’t have mine. He hasn’t for a while. The last three goals that I let through were assisted by him.”
True. Malcolm’s defense line has been shit in the past few games. And if Lachy is complaining, it’s worse than I thought.
My phone vibrates, making me forget the convo in an instant. It’s a reply from June.
You can’t possibly be offering all that when you’re injured. Unless you just want to watch me eat DOS leches.
Lachy laughs. “Bloody hell. I love this girl.”
It’s hard to tell if Lachy’s reaction is just a figure of speech or if he really means it. But in my current doped-up state, I think I love her too.