32. June
THIRTY-TWO
June
A baby sister? Future wife? What was he thinking? It’s been hours and I’m still stewing. Let’s face it, I’ve been mad all day, ever since the “future wife” incident, which is currently making its rounds across the internet.
It’s not Gunner’s fault he started the live stream—fine, maybe it is—but he’s not the one who made Ryan say that in front of literally everyone. His teammate was flirting with me, who cares? It’s not like I was going to take him on a date.
Worst of all? Poppy is working late and Kinsley and her brother had plans, so I am basically by myself in a house full of strangers. Even Oliver ditched me to go to bed about an hour ago.
I’ve been introduced to a handful of Ryan’s teammates, several hockey players, and, of course, the wives and girlfriends. Everyone seems super nice, but I remember like three people’s names.
“So you’re the future Mrs. Devlin?”
Excuse my language but motherfucker.
Although it’s not her fault. She looks genuinely nice, giving me a warm smile, and immediately pulls me in for a hug. I’d like to say I’m quick on my feet, but I end up patting her shoulder a few times before she pulls away.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She extends her hand for a shake, and that’s when I notice her pink nails, which match her ... everything. Shoes, dress, lips, and even her little clutch purse. It’s all pink. “I’m Lucy. I work for the football team in public relations.”
“My wife is the PR department.” A guy with dark hair and a perpetual grumpy face puts his arm around her and gives me what I imagine is his best smile. He’s one of the guys Ryan introduced me to, but for the life of me, I can’t remember his name. Pretty sure he plays something ... for someone ...
Lucy chuckles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse my husband, Rhett, he mostly communicates with grunts. I’m sure you know, these football players aren’t much different from the hockey players in that respect.”
“Football is there for guys who can’t play hockey.” Rhett glances at one of the guys on the other side of the living room. “My brother plays football, and he can’t skate for shit. He’ll be starting with the Aces next week.”
“Do you watch a lot of the games?”
I cringe, shrinking back a little. “Umm. I’ve seen a game. Ryan and I aren’t exactly together. I’m just staying here until my apartment is fixed.”
Lucy’s eyes widen and she pushes her husband away. “Go talk to your brother and be nice.”
He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m always nice.”
“He thinks he’s cute.” Lucy grabs my hand and tugs me into the dining room. She leans close, lowering her voice. “ You don’t have to tell me anything, but what? He’s already calling you his future wife and you aren’t even dating?”
I open my mouth to answer her but almost jump out of my skin as a pregnant brunette suddenly leans between us. “What are we whispering about?”
“June, this is my sister-in-law Avery. She’s getting married to one of Rhett’s teammates, and you can imagine how excited he was about that.” Lucy pulls her into our little huddle. “June was just about to tell us what’s going on with her and Ryan.”
Avery smiles, her shoulders working back and forth in what I can only describe as a shimmy. “Tell us everything.”
I look between them for several seconds, and I’ve got to laugh. This is exactly what it’s like having sisters, and I have three of them. These girls are virtually strangers, but they seem so open, so friendly, I find myself leaning in instead of pulling back. “There’s not much to tell. We kinda had a one-night thing about four years ago. We didn’t exchange names or numbers, so when I found out I was pregnant, there was nothing I could do. I tried looking for him, but I had nothing to go on. And then I ran into him like two weeks ago outside the stadium.”
“Coincidence?” Lucy toys with the diamond on her finger. “Since you said you’re not a sports fan.”
I shake my head, huffing a small laugh. It feels like that day was months ago. “I was dropping off divorce papers for my mom. She’s a lawyer, and I work at her office part-time. Ryan saw me on my way out, and everything kinda spiraled from there.”
“But you’re living here?” Avery asks. “And not officially together?”
“Nope. ”
Avery tosses her head back and laughs for what seems like several minutes before she swipes under her eyes and fans her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, but I write romance books. This is the perfect setup for a story. Hello, obsessed hero with golden retriever energy. My readers eat that shit for breakfast.”
“Wow. I can’t say I’ve actually read a romance book.”
Her eyes widen to the size of saucers. “We shall rectify that immediately. Half the sports romance readers are already rooting for you two.”
I’m not sure what any of this means, but I nod anyway. “That sounds great.”
“You ladies keeping my girl company?” Ryan saunters our way, his eyes locked on mine, and I’m trying really hard to keep my stomach from flipping and the blush from spreading across my face, but I fail on both accounts.
Damn him.
He really needs to be less irresistible. That would make being around him a lot easier.
Lucy and Avery are both wearing matching smirks and give me a small wave, leaving me here alone with the one man I can’t seem to get away from today. Or any day.
“You really are the worst.” I purse my lips, doing my best not to smile.
His lip twitches, and he pulls me in for a hug. Very reluctantly, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his chest. He holds me to him, and I’d love to say I don’t feel anything, but that would be a lie.
There’s something about being in his arms that feels right.
“Everyone is heading out, it’s getting late, and I don’t want them getting rowdy and waking up Oliver.” Ryan murmurs against my head, one of his hands lazily running up and down my back. “You were great tonight. Everyone loves you.”
“Your friends are all nice. I’m glad you invited everyone over, especially Dean. I think Oliver found a new best friend.” Doesn’t hurt that Dean got down on the ground and raced monster trucks with him for a good forty minutes.
He pulls back, smoothing a hand down my hair and hands me the poker set he brought out earlier. “Any chance you can toss this back in my closet? Dean’s been eyeballing it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to take it with him. I’m going to shove these guys out the door, and I’ll meet you upstairs.”
With a nod, I grab the set, say goodbye to a few of the girls, and head upstairs.
I haven’t been in Ryan’s room since the first night I stayed here. It looks exactly the same—decorated in grays and dark blues, very masculine, very clean—but it feels so different. Maybe it’s me. So much has changed since that night.
His closet is much of the same. It’s huge, but also very organized. Maybe too organized. I bet his assistant set all this up for him. He’s got a section for suits, another for T-shirts, long sleeves, a whole shelf of shoes and ... what the hell?
A wedding dress.
No, two of them. One is covered in intricate beading with a large, puffy skirt, and the other is simple, but pretty. They’re complete opposites aside from the color and their pristine state.
One of them is mine, and the other isn’t one I’ve seen before.
There are footsteps behind me and a familiar buzzing under my skin.
“I can explain.”