Chapter 17
seventeen
INDIGO
I think I’m hiding my massive, overwhelming, scream-into-the-void freakout well until I glance at Lola in the rearview mirror and see her trying to hold in her laughter.
Right. Yeah.
Sebastian Navarro, the boy I’ve loved since I was fourteen years old, the man I’ve followed from a distance because it hurt too much to watch him choose other women from close by, kissed me.
And not just some chaste, friendly little kiss.
No, he kissed the ever-living shit out of me, and I…
Well, fuck. I ground my pussy against his washboard abs like an experienced porn star. In front of other people.
I need to find a hole big enough to crawl into so I can die quietly and privately of embarrassment.
“So, can you get tickets for the rest of your home playoff games? Because that was the best hockey I’ve ever watched in my life, and I’d do just about anything to go to another game.
” Lola turns her big blue eyes on Sebastian from the back seat.
She wouldn’t be above batting her lashes at him if she wasn’t so sure he was into me.
Something I had thought was ridiculous until tonight.
Sebastian’s gaze flicks my way before looking back at Lola, then refocusing on the road. “Yeah, I think I can manage that. It was great having people there cheering me on. You two would be doing me a favor, really.”
He glances at me again when he says that, and it makes my heart do an entire gymnastics routine. Flips, kicks, and forward rolls. He really wants us there?
“What do you think, Rosebud? Come to another game?”
I tamp down the unhinged little giggle trying to claw its way up my throat and nod. “Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great.” The flashing of passing streetlights, traffic lights, and the too-bright headlights of other cars as they drive by illuminates Sebastian’s smile, and I can’t help staring.
He’s so damn handsome. He always was, but the years have been more than kind to him.
They’ve chiseled his jaw, peppered it with stubble so dark it’s almost black, and added inches and at least fifty pounds of muscle.
Sebastian is the kind of man women drool over.
And it’s not only his looks; it’s his quiet confidence, his attentiveness, and an internal softness that contradicts his powerful exterior.
And he kissed me.
It probably didn’t mean the same thing to him as it meant to me.
To me, it was everything. To him, it was probably adrenaline, the high of a win, and the impulse of a moment.
I want him to do it again, but it’s far more likely that he pulls me into a room and says something like we need to talk about what happened before explaining why it was a onetime thing.
Which means I need to rebuild my walls, and fast.
“Here we are,” Sebastian says, more to himself than us, as he pulls into a parking garage. He leads Lola and me over to an elevator, and I try not to focus on his fingers when they skim the small of my back as he ushers me in.
“This is a nice building,” Lola observes as Sebastian hits the button for the top floor. “Do you live in a place like this?”
He shakes his head. “No, I have a house outside of downtown Minneapolis. In the Bde Maka Ska-Isles neighborhood.”
My ears perk up at that, because I’ve been wondering where he lives. Did he settle somewhere with a ton of nightlife or as close to the arena as he could get?
When Lola’s brow furrows, he elaborates. “It’s southwest of downtown. I picked it because of the lake. It’s not the same as living near the ocean, but it’s as close as I’m going to get in the Midwest.”
Of course, he’d miss the ocean. It makes sense that he’d choose somewhere near a body of water.
“So it’s like a huge mansion, right?” Lola waggles her eyebrows at him. “Because you’re a hot-shot goalie and you have more money than you know what to do with?”
He chuckles as the elevator comes to a stop and the door opens. He guides us out and toward Maddox and Isla’s door. “Not a mansion, no. And I think you’re overestimating how much money hockey players make. It’s not like what some football or basketball players pull.”
Lola rolls her eyes. “You’re one of the top-paid goalies in the league, crab boy.”
“I do all right.”
She barks out a laugh at that as Sebastian opens the door for us. He doesn’t knock, simply opens it and ushers us in. I suppose it makes sense. These guys are clearly as close as family. Well, as close as normal families. Not sure mine counts.
“You gonna invite us over one night?”
“Lols,” I hiss, shooting her a death glare before turning to check on Sebastian’s reaction.
He doesn’t look remotely offended, a smile on his face as his teammates call out greetings. “Any time you want.”
Then we’re surrounded by massive men and smiling women.
And an adorable teenage boy who I know to be Blair’s—Logan’s girlfriend’s—little brother.
It’s chaotic and loud, and none of these guys seem to understand the concept of personal space, but it’s also amazing.
It’s obvious how much they all love each other.
“I’m going to say hi to the girls,” Lola says. “You coming?”
I smile at my best friend. “I need a minute.” When she arches one eyebrow at me, I roll my eyes. “I promise I’m not going to bolt. I just need a minute after…everything.”
My head is still spinning from the kiss, and now, watching Sebastian interact with these people who all clearly love him, I can’t stop wishing that I could have had this.
I love Lola. She’s my ride or die. But she has her own life, too, and sometimes mine feels lonely. With my parents gone so much, the breakup with Ryland, and the fact that writing is such a solitary thing, I spend most of my time alone.
What would it be like to have so many people in your life who care about you the way all these people obviously care about each other?
“You okay?”
I jump when Sebastian’s softly spoken words pull me from my thoughts. When I turn, he’s standing so close, his chest nearly brushes mine. His gaze bounces over my face, studying me. I get the impression he sees more than I’d like him to.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Though he’s quiet for a beat, he doesn’t move.
Heat radiates from his body, and I want to sink into it.
“They can be a lot, but they’re the best. The kind of people who’d run into a burning building for you.
” He chuckles. “And I’m not exaggerating.
They literally did just that a few months ago for Blair and Reed, when Logan’s stalker tried to kill them. ”
I turn to him, eyes wide and mouth open. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately. I didn’t get there until after the fire department locked the building down, but yeah.”
“Wow.”
“It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Wondering if my friends would make it out.” His voice is quiet while he watches them.
“I’m glad everyone is okay.” I wonder who would run into a burning building for me? Lola, of course. My parents? I’m not sure. I’d like to think so, but the reality is that I can’t say with any real certainty.
I’ll never regret going to college in Canada. It allowed me to get as far away from the Hollywood bullshit as I could, and I made some amazing friends who I still chat with to this day. But they’re in an entirely different country, and that means the support we offer each other is mostly virtual.
Basically, if I’m ever trapped in a burning building, I’m shit out of luck.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” I turn to find him studying me.
Sebastian’s Adam’s apple bobs, and his hand twitches at his side. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I embarrassed you back at the arena. I know you don’t like to be the center of attention, and I went and kissed you in front of everyone like that…”
“Oh. No, you didn’t embarrass me.”
The furrow of his brow softens. “Good. That’s good. Because I didn’t plan on doing that, and I’d hate to think I screwed things up with you.”
Oh. Oh. Obviously, he didn’t plan to do that. My smile starts to slip, but I force it into submission. “Of course you didn’t. I get it. Your adrenaline was pumping. Heat of the moment.”
He smiles broadly. “Exactly.”
Never has one word cut through me with such enthusiastic efficiency.
“Listen, could we go to another room and talk?”
I knew it. I knew it.
There’s no way I can handle following Sebastian into another room so he can let me down gently in an apartment full of people. Because I won’t be able to keep the tears at bay, and I’ll be damned if I make a fool of myself.
“Um, I don’t know. I don’t want to be rude.”
Sebastian’s lips twitch briefly downward. “No one will think it’s rude.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing, right? It didn’t mean anything. There’s no reason it has to ruin our friendship.”
I hate every single word as they spew out of my mouth.
I hate myself for speaking them. If this was one of my romance books, I’d be brave.
Tell him I have loved him since I was an awkward teenager with braces and pimples the media loved to point out.
If this were a romance novel, I’d pull him into another room myself, and I’d tell him how much it hurt me that he kissed someone else that summer and chose her instead of me.
Then I’d tell him I still love him. And I’d ask him to choose me this time. To take a chance on me.
But this isn’t a romance novel, and I’m not some pretty, quirky heroine.
I’m an almost thirty-year-old woman with deep-seated insecurities, cellulite, and stomach rolls.
And Sebastian is, well, Sebastian. Successful, famous in sports circles, and so attractive, he has women throwing themselves at him wherever he goes.
Of course, he didn’t plan on kissing me. I was simply there.
Sebastian frowns in earnest. “It didn’t mean anything.” Not a question, but a repetition of what I’d said. His deep brown eyes search mine, narrowing at whatever he sees. “Indie, I—”
“Bashy, get your ass over here for a toast,” Griffin calls from the other side of the room. “And bring your girl.”
My heart clenches at that. Being called his girl was all I wanted as a teenager because it would signify that he’d chosen me.
Hearing his friend say it so casually right after Sebastian said he didn’t mean to kiss me—and that it was a spur-of-the-moment thing he clearly doesn’t plan to repeat if he’s worried about torpedoing the friendship we’ve just reestablished—guts me in a way I can’t articulate.
“Come on,” I say, plastering a brittle smile on my face. “We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Indie, we need to—”
“Don’t worry.” I infuse as much levity in my tone as I can. “Our friendship is perfectly safe.”
My heart, not so much. But that’s nothing new.