15. Serena
SERENA
The body keeps the score.
—Serena’s Daily Affirmation
The air outside has an unwelcome chill clinging to it the next morning.
Cool enough that I curl both hands around my mug and tuck my feet beneath me, silently questioning why I chose to sit outside instead of in, until I’m reminded Liv and Logan slept here last night.
And while I’m glad one of us is having mind-blowing sex, I kinda wish I didn’t have to hear it. Or that it was me.
Today’s tea is peach with a hint of ginger.
It’s surprisingly good and courtesy of one of the Chase sisters, the family we’ve partnered with at Cherry Creek Vineyards.
They’ve recently opened a tea shop on the property, and somehow, I’ve been volunteered as their newest guinea pig.
I’ve always leaned more toward coffee than tea for my caffeine of choice.
The stronger the better. But today, the tea is doing its job and warming what I’m starting to think is my ice-cold soul as I sit here, twirling my pen between my fingers and staring at the next blank page in my journal.
It’s been close to twenty minutes, and all I’ve managed to write so far, is today’s date.
Not sure Octavia would count that as an entry.
But this morning, it seems so much harder to recall an old memory when I’m stuck replaying last night’s argument over and over again from every possible angle.
It’s safe to say I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Any of it.
Not the things we said.
Or the things we didn’t.
Not the way he looked at me.
Or, my God, the way he touched me.
The way I let him.
And especially not the way he silently followed me to my house as I walked through the vineyards and waited for me to go inside before turning around.
And then there’s the text he sent sometime after I fell asleep.
Hendrix
This isn’t over, Serena.
The text I’ve read so many times I’m surprised my eyes haven’t fallen out of my head. The same one I haven’t responded to because seriously, would what the fuck be an appropriate response? Because I’m not sure I have any other kind.
I flip the phone facedown, then back up again, something that seems to be becoming a bad habit. But, in all honesty, I just can’t seem to stop staring at the words, even if they make my stomach churn worse than a day on a boat in the middle of a hurricane.
I would have given anything . . . hell, I would have given everything to hear those words three years ago.
But now . . Now, they don’t feel real.
None of this does.
I blow on my steaming hot tea and stare out over the rolling hills of the vineyard, trying to lose myself. It doesn’t work. Not when the same words keep playing in my head like a broken record.
He didn’t love her.
How is that possible?
Fall Break Freshman Year Of College
The first time I met Britt we were all freshmen in college, and I was home for Christmas break.
And even though Hendrix still had hockey practice and games he’d have to be at, he went to school in Kroydon Hills.
So coming home meant coming home to him.
For the first time since everything started, we’d be in the same place for more than a night.
We’d spent months stealing whatever pieces of each other we could manage.
Phone calls between classes. Texts before games.
DMs after games. FaceTimes that lasted long past when we should have been sleeping.
But for a few weeks, time would be on our side.
I’m not sure I’d ever been so excited to be back in Kroydon Hills. I told myself I’d missed my family, my friends, my bed, and Mom’s crappy cooking. And I did. But none of them held a candle to the way I missed him.
Young love has its own taste. Its own feel.
You’re still naive enough to believe it’ll all work out.
I might as well have had hearts in my eyes when I finally saw him, but I had no idea that it wouldn’t just be Hendrix and me for most of break.
The first time I saw Britt, my stomach dropped. She was easily five foot nine with long blonde hair and catlike green eyes. She was beautiful, and I wanted to hate her because my boyfriend, the one we’d decided I wasn’t going to tell anyone about, thought she was great.
They laughed at inside jokes. They watched movies together and hockey together. She knew his schedule and all his teammates. Britt got to be there when I couldn’t. Hating her would have been the easy way out. But nothing Hendrix and I ever did was easy.
She was sitting on the couch at the hockey house between two of Hendrix’s teammates when he walked me inside, a Revolution game playing on the television.
The same game my parents were currently at.
Her eyes landed on Hendrix first, then me, and something flickered across her face as she bit her lip.
Nerves maybe? Was she nervous to meet me?
“Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Britt.”
“Serena,” I answered. He’d told me about her. Thought we’d be good friends. And as he tucked me into his side and smiled at the room, I wondered if maybe we could.
Her smile widened. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Well, that made two of us.
I glanced up at Hendrix to find him already smiling down at me.
Not her.
The hand on my hip squeezed like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I think I finally took my first real breath since walking inside.
“Hey, Sinclair,” one of his teammates called over his shoulder. “You and the Kingston princess gonna watch the game?”
“Nah, man. We’ve got plans.” We didn’t. Not really. Not unless you counted locking ourselves in his room and hiding away from the rest of the town as plans. He dropped his hand and smacked my ass as he guided me up the stairs without ever looking back.
And that was the thing about Hendrix. He never made me feel like Britt or anyone else was my competition. And while I never really thought we were friends, Britt was never my enemy either.
She got time with him I didn’t. Time I envied. But I still got him. And that was all that mattered. The world likes to pit women against women, but I never felt that way about her.
Why would I when I trusted him?
Even years later, when I found out she was going to get to live the life I thought I’d always have with Hendrix .
. . She would have his name and his babies and his love .
. . She’d have it all. But I couldn’t hate her for it.
How could I when she was the better woman? The one who could make him happy.
I didn’t go to their wedding.
Even I’m not that masochistic.
I did send a gift—because my mother raised me right—and apparently, somewhere deep in my psyche, I knew even emotional devastation wasn’t a good enough reason to be rude.
But I did turn social media into my bitch and stalked their wedding and eventually baby pictures like the CIA had tasked me to do it.
Healthy? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
But that didn’t stop me.
I was seething with jealousy.
Because she had him, and then she had Bodhi.
She had the life I wanted.
And then she lost her life.
And suddenly, the guilt outweighed the hurt.
So how am I supposed to feel now?
My phone rings, startling me out of the memory, and I jump what feels like fifty feet in the air, banging my knee against the table and spilling my tea. “Shit.”
I drop my pen, close the journal, and grab the napkin as the phone rings again, and because the universe woke up and chose violence today, Dad’s name flashes on the screen this time.
Max Kingston is nothing if not the master of shitty timing.
I slide my finger across the screen and stand, stretching my banged-up leg.
“Hey, Dad.” Pulling the phone back, I glance at the time. “A little early, isn’t it?”
“Good morning to you too, Serena. I’ve been up for a few hours, already worked out and made breakfast. How about you?”
I glance over at my spilled tea and untouched scone and decide to pivot. “I’m good. What’s up?”
“I need you to go to Texas with the team tomorrow.” Well, that’s one way not to beat around the bush.
“What?” Not exactly eloquent, but I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine to handle this. “I don’t travel with the team, Dad. That’s Teagan’s job.”
“Yes well, your cousin was rushed to the hospital last night for an emergency appendectomy. She’ll be out this week, and I need your help.”
Just what every girl wants to hear.
“Please, Serena. I can’t go. I have a doctor’s appointment Monday morning that I can’t reschedule.”
Son of a bitch.
How do I say no to that?
I don’t.
“Okay, Dad. Have your assistant send me the information.” I can update the interviews scheduled for Monday from in-person to online and get everything else I need from Teagan.
It’s one overnight with the team.
How hard could it be?
“Have you ever asked yourself a hypothetical question that came back to bite you in the ass?” I groan, standing next to my cousin Cohen the next afternoon as we wait to get the room keys at the hotel the team is about to take over.
“I play hockey for my father’s team, and the man is my assistant coach. What do you think?” He shakes his head with a smile. “I thought you quit anyway. Why are you still here?”
I look around at the team as Teagan’s assistant, Kaleigh, hands out the key cards. “I promised Dad I would hire my replacement, and it’s taking a little longer than I expected.”
“You realize you’re a sucker, right?” the shithead laughs the way only family can.
“Says the man playing for his daddy,” I tease and lean my head against his shoulder. “Listen, it’s just a few more weeks while I get things in place, and it’s giving me time to look into my own options too.”
“Oh yeah? And what kind of options are we talking about? Because seriously, I heard that strip club in the city is hiring—”
I throw my elbow back into his stomach and step out of the way as he doubles over.
“That’s my girl,” Cohen’s dad cheers as he stops next to me and drops a kiss on my head like I’m seven instead of twenty-seven. “Do you need help with any of these idiots, Serena?”
“Thanks for the offer, Uncle Jace. But I think we’re pretty much done here.
Dinner will be served in Conference Room A at seven for anyone who wants it.
And you and Coach Kane as well as the rest of the staff will have access to Conference Rooms B and C for anything you need.
Just call Kaleigh or me if you need anything. ”
“Are you coming back down for dinner?” he asks, his cool blue eyes so similar to Dad’s, it’s almost eerie.
“Do I have to?” I tease, knowing the answer before he nods. “Guess I’ll see you at seven.”
Kaleigh joins me as I make my way over to the bank of elevators, my rolling suitcase at my side and my favorite Burberry bag sitting on top. I’m not the biggest brand whore in the family, but shoes and bags might be a bit of a weakness.
I blame my mother.
“Okay,” Kaleigh says with a little shake in her voice. “Everyone is present and accounted for, and they all have their keys and their itineraries.” She looks back down at the clipboard before handing it to me. “I think that’s everything.”
“First away game?” I ask.
I knew Teags hired a new assistant but don’t know Kaleigh the way some of my cousins do.
“Oh, God. Is it that obvious?” She covers her face, and I smile.
“Not at all. You’re doing great. These guys are enough to make anyone a little nervous. Don’t stress. You used to work for Dillan Ryan at the bookstore in town, right?”
Her eyes dart to the last group of players boarding the elevators. She hesitates while the doors close, then hits the up button again, calling for another elevator for us. “Technically, I still do.”
“What made you want to work with the Revolution?” I ask, genuinely intrigued. “I’d think the team is a bit of a stretch from what you’re doing at Hopeless Romantics.”
One shoulder lifts and drops as Hendrix, Leo, Nixon, and Ares all walk over together.
“I’d been living with my sister, helping her with her kids.
But she’s found a new man and a new place to live.
Not that it’ll last. They never do. But that left me either needing to find a second job or needing to find a smaller place.
So I applied with a temp company, and they placed me here.
” She looks nervously over at the guys, and I fight the urge to say, Same girl, same.
“You pay better than the bookshop. But I love the bookshop. So I guess I really don’t know what the heck I’m doing just yet. ”
“Yeah.” My smile is warm and genuine as I cringe and try to focus on her and not the man currently staring at me. “I know the feeling.”
Olivia
Hey. How are you making out?
Serena
Well, if you mean am I a basket case rocking in the corner because I shit you not, Hendrix is sharing the room directly across the hall from me with Leo, then I guess I’m making out okay.
Olivia
What’s your current definition of okay?
Serena
There’s no rocking.
Olivia
It’s a start.
Serena
How about you? Everything good?
Olivia
As good as it’s going to get at the moment.
Serena
It sounded like things were better than good last night, Livvy.
Olivia
Yeah well, it sounded like you and Hendrix worked some of your shit out last night, Barbie.
Serena
Touché.
Olivia
I’m worried about you.
Serena
Why? Because it turns out the only man I’ve ever loved has been lying to me?
Olivia
I mean . . . that’s a pretty good reason.
Serena
I don’t know what to do about it just yet.
Olivia
We could start with this – is it LOVED, with an ED, or is it LOVE, as in present tense?
Serena
Unless you want this self-reflecting bitch of a mirror turned your way, don’t ask questions neither of us is ready to think about tonight, K?
Olivia
That wasn’t an answer.
Serena
Yeah well, it’s the best you’re going to get.
I’ve got to go, Liv. Someone’s knocking on my door.
Olivia
Ohh . . . Maybe it’s Hendrix.
Serena
It’s more likely to be Kaleigh.
Olivia
Like Kaleigh from Hopeless Romantics?
Serena
Yup. She’s temping in Teagan’s department.
Olivia
Answer the door and tell me who it is.
Serena
Goodbye, Olivia.
I tuck the phone into the pocket of my hoodie and look through the peephole.
Why couldn’t it be Kaleigh?