Chapter 27
twenty-seven
INDIGO
It’s my second time wearing a WAG playoff jacket, and I don’t feel any less like an imposter. Especially when people turn to look at Lola and me as we walk around the arena. I shouldn’t care. Lola’s not anyone’s wife or girlfriend, but she’s rocking the jacket like she was made to.
I wish I had her confidence.
The thing is, I can practically feel the comparisons happening in real time when I stand next to the other women.
They’re so pretty. And while all of them are different—some are tall, some are short, a beautiful kaleidoscope of races and skin tones—there’s one glaring difference between me and the rest of them.
I’m pretty sure I’m the only one over two hundred pounds.
It shouldn’t matter. Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind my curves and cellulite, so I shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks when they see me standing next to these goddesses.
But comparison is a cruel and familiar companion in my life.
It’s difficult to silence my own inner critic when I’ve spent years listening to so many loud external critics with massive platforms.
“So, the girls and I have a romance book club.” Mira angles her body toward Lola and me, her green eyes crinkling in the corners. “And we were hoping you two would join us. We haven’t picked the next book yet, so if you have any suggestions, we’re all ears. What do you say?”
Lola grins widely and claps her hands. “Hell, yeah! Count us in. We love romance.” My best friend shoots me a sideways glance. “Especially Indie.”
My heart hammers in my chest, even though I know Lola won’t say anything to reveal my secret identity.
But ever since the day at the bookstore, I’ve been wondering if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell the world who I am?
What would it be like to do fun in-person events at places like It’s a Love Story?
Or to tell two enthusiastic young women that the books they’re carrying around were written by me?
I’m not sure I’m ready, but part of me is warming up to the idea.
“Amazing. We’ll add you to the group chat, and we can all vote on what we want to read.” Mira smiles brightly. “And, Lola, I think Griffin found someone to set you up with.”
Lola’s eyes widen and her whole face lights up. “Seriously? Who?”
“Her name is Megan James. She’s the center for the Lightning. I’ve met her a few times, and she’s really cool. She seemed very interested when Griffin showed her your picture. She thinks you’re really pretty.” Mira waggles her eyebrows at Lola as the other women listen in, grinning and invested.
“For real? Oh my god. Okay, I need to look her up.” Lola’s phone is in her hands in seconds.
Fingers flying over the screen, she has Megan’s photo and bio pulled up in moments.
She’s gorgeous. Tall, with chestnut brown hair, the photo shows her walking into the arena on a game day, dressed to impress in a miniskirt, flowy sequined camisole, and glittery combat boots.
Her amber brown eyes are kind, and there’s a mischievous set to her smile that tells me she and Lola will get along perfectly.
“What do you think? Is she your type?” Isla asks.
“My type? A tall, Amazonian goddess who can pick me up and throw me down on a bed? Hells, yeah.” Lola practically has hearts in her eyes, and the rest of us break out into laughter.
“I can tell Griffin to share your number with her, then?” Mira’s lips twitch because the answer is pretty obvious.
“Um, yes, please.” Lola fans herself. “Damn.”
The roar of the crowd calls our attention back to the game just in time to watch Sebastian block a shot attempt from Dallas’s center.
We all cheer. It’s the middle of the third period, and the Rogues are up four to two.
No one wants to jinx it by claiming a win while the clock counts down, because a lot can happen in ten minutes of hockey, but we’re all feeling good. Hopeful.
Lola leans in close to me, her voice full of excitement when she says, “We could be cheering on my girlfriend soon, exactly like this.”
“Getting ahead of yourself a bit, aren’t you?” I tease, bumping her with my shoulder.
“Nah, boo, I’m manifesting.”
Manifesting. If anyone has the power to manifest a hockey player girlfriend, it’s Lola.
Hell, I’m pretty sure she manifested Sebastian and me reconnecting, so I’m not betting against her.
I hope it works out for her, I really do, because my best friend is amazing and she deserves to be loved. “Noted.”
“I’m manifesting for you too. You’re going to marry that hunky little crab boy down there.” Lola juts her chin out in Sebastian’s direction.
“Lola…”
“Don’t Lola me, Indigo. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you.
It’s time you both got your happily ever afters.
” My best friend gives my hand a squeeze.
“And it’s also time you got laid. So tonight, I’m taking a rideshare after we get drinks, and you’re going to go home with that hockey hunk and let him score in your crease. ”
“Ew. Lola, no. Absolutely not.”
The chaos gremlin that is my best friend just throws her head back and laughs and laughs and laughs.
Cheers erupt in the family room as the team files in. Another win closer to advancing to the next round of the playoffs, and another win at home. I watch, chest swelling with happiness, as these big hockey players hug their partners and kids, massive smiles on their faces.
They’re one step closer to achieving every pro athlete’s dream.
“Rosebud.” Bash scoops me up in his arms before I can protest. He swings me around, kissing my cheeks as I giggle. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey, yourself, goalie boy. Great game tonight.”
“Could have been better. I let two through.”
“So what? You stopped like forty other shots. Stop being so hard on yourself.” I kiss the tip of his nose before slanting my mouth over his to swallow whatever protest he’s about to utter.
I understand Sebastian expects greatness from himself.
All of these guys do. You don’t make it to the professional level without expecting more of yourself than most people ever would, but he’s too hard on himself.
Bash hums against my lips as he slowly lowers me to my feet. His fingers tangle in my hair, and it makes my stomach erupt with a swarm of butterflies. “Thanks for coming, baby.”
The butterflies multiply at the pet name. “Always.”
“All right, fam, time to celebrate!” Griffin leans forward and pulls his wife onto his back for a piggyback ride, which makes the room break out into laughter. “Let’s go. I’m giving you dorks an hour before I take my wife home and have my dirty, dirty way with her.”
“Dude.” Maddox groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as Isla snickers and rubs sympathetic circles on his back.
“Sorry, not sorry,” Griffin says with a cheeky little salute. Then he’s carrying Mira out the door, expecting the rest of us follow them.
“You ladies up for Chasers?” Sebastian asks Lola and me.
“Always,” Lola answers. “But I’ll probably call it a night early, so don’t worry about giving me a ride back.”
“You sure?”
She nods. “Yep. You and Indie hang out as long as you want, though. All night, even. You should show her your house.”
“Lols,” I hiss.
“I should, should I?” Bash grins at my best friend.
“You definitely should.”
He turns to me, eyes sparkling. “Come on, Rosebud. Let’s go have some fun, then I’ll take you to my place and give you a tour.”
“It’s okay if the tour lasts all night,” Lola adds. “Gotta make sure it’s thorough.”
“Jesus,” I groan. Lola laughs, sauntering out the door behind everyone else, while Bash and I take up the rear. “Sorry about her.”
“Don’t be, I like her. She’s good for you.
I’m really glad you’ve had her in your corner.
” The softness in his voice tells me he means every word, and my heart expands.
His hand is warm around mine as we make our way out of the arena and onto the sidewalk.
Heads turn as we pass, and a few people pull out their phones to take photos and videos.
This close to the arena, and given the size and stature of all these guys, it’s not hard to pick them out as Rogues players. The WAG jackets help too.
Sebastian stays between me and the gawking fans as much as possible, and I try not to freak out over the possibility that someone will get a clear shot of me. This is Minneapolis, not LA. The odds of someone recognizing me are slim to none. Still, I keep my face down and lean into Bash’s side.
“Almost there, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
I relax a bit once we file inside Chasers, even though people have their phones out there too. It’s crowded enough in the bar that there are more places for me to hide, and more people to distract from me if I’m in a shot.
Besides, if I’m going to go on dates with Bash and spend more time with him, this is something I’ll have to get over eventually. Especially if they continue dominating the playoffs.
“Dude, I’m sorry to bug you all, and I know this probably isn’t cool, but that game tonight was fuckin’ epic,” a slightly inebriated guy, who looks to be in his late twenties, says, coming to stand at the open part of the booth.
His two friends trail behind him, neither quite as many drinks in, if the lack of redness in their eyes is any indication.
When Isla giggles, the guy scans the table and swears.
“Shit. Sorry for swearing in front of the ladies. That was fuckin’ stupid. ”
We all laugh at that, and his friends do too.
“Fuck. Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s all good,” Mira pipes up. “It was fucking epic.”
The fan grins and raises his bottle to her. “You should have heard it in here. Everyone was going nuts.” He glances back at his friends, who nod at him. “My buddies and I would like to buy the next round for your table.”
“Thanks, man, but you don’t have to do that,” Sebastian says diplomatically. “Your support is enough.”
The guy’s attention swings to Bash before he glances in my direction. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares at me for a beat too long, his head cocking to the side, but then he grins widely and returns his gaze to Sebastian. “We’d be honored to buy you a round, though.”
“How about we ask someone to take a photo instead?” Maddox offers.
“Seriously?” All three of the fans light up at that. “That would be fucking awesome.”
“Yeah, of course. Why don’t you guys grab someone to take a photo and squeeze in on the sides?
” Maddox waves at a server who hurries over.
After he asks her to take a few photos, the three fans squeeze in at the sides of the booth.
Their excitement is contagious, and we all smile and laugh as the server takes a handful of photos.
“Thanks, guys.” The tipsy fan tucks his phone back into his pocket. “We’ll leave you alone now. Go, Rogues.”
The rest of the bar joins in and shouts Go, Rogues!
and while there are plenty of other curious glances and looks of admiration thrown our table’s way, no one else bothers the players.
I sag in relief, resting my head on Sebastian’s shoulder as I get lost in the joyful banter between everyone.
Everyone includes Lola and me in conversation, but I enjoy observing them as much as I do joining in.
They’re all so close. A family, even if they’re not tied by blood.
And as much as I’m enjoying this proximity to their bond, I can’t help feeling a twinge of regret that I wasted ten years because I ran.
I was too scared to hear Sebastian tell me I wasn’t enough, so I ran, and not only did I cheat us both out of that time together, I’m pretty sure I cheated myself out of this too.
Life doesn’t often give second chances, so I can’t waste this one.
No matter what happens, this time, I won’t run.