"And you remember where the laundry room is?"
"Wren." I chuckle. "I only stopped working on your house a couple of months ago. Of course I know where the laundry room is."
"You're right. I don't know why I'm acting so strange. It's just that I haven't lived with someone else in a long time, and I want to make sure you're comfortable."
If she saw the state of the apartment I was moving out of, she wouldn't be worried about my comfort. Before the renovation, this house would have been a major step up from my previous living situation. Now that it's had a makeover… well, it's far nicer than what Wren's brother is charging me for rent.
"And are you comfortable?" I ask, setting my duffel bag on the new bed. "I know you don't need—or probably want—a roommate, so if this is making you—"
"I'm happy you're here. Truly. It'll be fun."
I offer her a grateful smile as I unpack my clothes. "I think it will be too. And hey, if we end up hating each other by the end of it, at least it's only temporary. You can forget I ever existed come May."
Wren laughs. "I don't think that'll be an issue. Besides, I need an introduction to Tyler Braden, so if worse comes to worst, I'll just pretend I like you."
"Works for me. I have a feeling you're going to be the best fake friend and roommate I've ever had."
The truth is, there's nothing fake about Wren. She's sincerely nice and thoughtful. She always provided coffee and homemade desserts to the contractors working on the house this summer. She'd offer me rides when my car was acting up, which was initially embarrassing seeing as I work for a luxury interior design brand and my vehicle doesn't exactly scream *extravagance and style*. When she learned about my second job and the hours I was pulling just to make ends meet, she offered me a room to rent at a price point much more manageable than what I was paying downtown.
Over the months, we learned we both have brothers—her three to my one. We bonded over the fact that we're both transplants to the area—her from the West Coast, me from the East Coast and a different part of the Midwest, depending on how you look at it. We quickly learned that we're both so busy, between her school and my work, that living together will probably feel a lot like living alone.
So no, there's nothing fake about our friendship. It's been a confidence boost, knowing that as a twenty-five-year-old, I was able to make a new friend in a new city. I was quick to make friends when I was younger, but that's not always easy to do as an adult.
Even though Wren is moving back to her hometown after graduation, Chicago is where I plan to stay long-term. I'm hopeful that she's simply the first in a long line of new friendships I'll make here.
"Hey, did my neighbor ever reach out to the firm about hiring you?" Wren asks.
"He did! Thank you so much for the referral. I need one more big project before my internship is done, and living so close now, this will be perfect."
"Glad to hear it. His bachelor pad needs an upgrade. When do you start?"
"Soon, I hope. I'll get the project overview during our staff meeting on Monday."
She gestures to the bag on my bed. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I'll be okay. I still need to grab the last of my boxes from the apartment when I'm downtown tonight."
"Oh, are you working at the bar?"
"No, unfortunately. I tried to pick up a shift, but my manager denied the request. Said I'd have too many overtime hours if I worked tonight. But I do have a date. We're meeting at the office downtown, so I'll grab the last of my things from the apartment afterward."
Wren perks up, leaning against the doorway. "A date? Hallie Hart, way to bury the lead."
"Don't get all excited."
"Who is he?"
"A new client of Tyler's. He recently bought a condo that Tyler is designing for him. We crossed paths at the office a couple of weeks ago."
"Well, don't you sound overjoyed that a wealthy guy with great taste is taking you out."
I chuckle. "I don't know. I'm flattered, but I've been out of the dating game for quite a while. Frankly, I'd rather catch up on sleep. But Tyler asked me to go, and I'm trying to kiss his ass so he hires me full-time when my internship is over next spring."
"Seems like sound reasoning to me. Worst-case scenario, you meet someone new and get a free dinner out of it. Where are you guys going?"
"I'm not sure where he made reservations, but he told me to dress warm."
"Weird." She pushes off the doorway, this time to leave. "Well, let me know if that shitty car of yours breaks down and you need a ride home. I'm happy to come pick you up."
"Hey, don't hate on my car. She's doing just fine, thank you very much, and I don't need her to hear you talking shit about her."
"Hallie, I can practically smell the oil leak from here. Promise me when you get that full-time position, the first thing you'll do is buy yourself a new car."
I parked my "shitty" car in the farthest spot in the employee parking garage, hoping no one would notice it. Wren wasn't entirely wrong. It was run-down and definitely had an oil leak.
It had an *everything* leak, if I was being honest.
I told Brian I'd meet him at the restaurant, but he was adamant about this being a one-car situation. He offered to pick me up at home, but this was a first date. I didn't know the man, so there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to give him my address.
The design firm was common ground.
He seemed normal. He was handsome, a bit shy and nervous, but that was okay, I thought.
Truthfully, I didn't really know what my type was or if I even had one. It had been so long since I'd been interested in someone that it almost felt like I was starting from scratch, figuring out what I liked. I'd been a bit too preoccupied the last few years to think about dating.
But if I wanted to get honest with myself, the idea of trying to get to know someone again sounded terrifying. Maybe that was partly why I'd busied myself so much over the years—as an excuse to avoid it.
So, this shy and nervous thing Brian had going for him seemed safe to me.
"Are you moving here to Chicago?" I finally broke the silence while he drove. "Tyler said you bought a condo here."
"I won't be living here full-time, no. I've got a place in South Florida and a house in Arizona, but I'm planning to be here every few months."
"That's a lot of properties to manage."
He chuckled to himself, some of his nerves dissipating. "I have someone who takes care of them when I'm away."
I paused. "And who is that someone?"
He didn't answer. My attention immediately darted to his left hand, looking for a wedding ring indent or a change in skin tone from the lack of sun. There was neither, but my woman's intuition was on high alert.
This was what I hated about dating: trying to learn as much as possible by not only listening to what they said but reading between the lines. It was a whole lot easier when you grew up with someone and innately knew their character inside and out.
Brian took a right onto another block, and it was the same route I used when going from the design offices to the bar I worked at.
"Where are we going to dinner?" I asked.
"It's a surprise." His eyes flitted to me, a mischievous grin on his lips as he leaned back, driving his too-expensive car with one hand. "You look nice tonight, by the way."
That shy façade was quickly slipping into charming territory.
I returned my attention to the passenger window. "Thank you. So do you."
"Do you like sports?"
"Playing or watching?"
"In this case, watching."
"Sometimes." I glanced back at him suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"
His smile turned proud, not an ounce of shyness to be found. "Just curious."
Brian slowed as we edged into a line of traffic. I watched as the sidewalks filled with pedestrians all moving in the same direction we were headed. Restaurants and bars along the block were packed with patrons, the excited energy palpable even from inside the car.
Music was blasting from down the street. Buildings were illuminated with red-colored lights. Chicago team flags hung in windows. Up ahead, traffic monitors were ushering cars into certain lanes and parking lots.
Anxiety prickled my skin. That intuition I was referring to was now buzzing with alarm.
"Brian, why did you ask me to dress warm?"
He chuckled but didn't answer. Instead, he rolled down his window to talk to a traffic monitor. This time, when I looked out the passenger side and took a closer look, I realized all those people outside were wearing red, black, and white.
And they were all headed to the United Center on the next street over.
*No. No, no, no. We can't go there.*
"Are we going to the United Center?" I asked, the nerves now evident in my voice.
Once again, he didn't answer me, smiling smugly as if he expected me to be thoroughly impressed. But I wasn't. I was terrified.
All I could do was pray that tonight was a Bulls game. Basketball… basketball would be fine.
"My buddy has season tickets and couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "Hope you like hockey."
*Fuck my life.*
I took a closer look at the crowd swarming the arena. Most were wearing Raptors jerseys. His jersey.
My mouth went dry. "We could've walked from the office."
And I could've run in the opposite direction as soon as I realized where we were going.
"I wanted to give you an opportunity to ride in this car." Brian turned into a private parking lot. "It's pretty sweet, isn't it?"
That shy front was long gone. He was fully smug now.
Brian spoke to me as we went through private security and scanned our tickets, but I wasn't listening. I'd blame it on the rowdy crowd in the halls as soon as we entered the arena, but if I was being honest, the only thing I could hear was the ringing in my ears.
My entire body was intensely aware of my surroundings because I shouldn't be here. I'd avoided this building since moving to Chicago six months ago. I wouldn't even dare walk the same street, and now here I was, inside.
Brian led the way to find our section and I followed behind, eyes nervously tracking the area around me. This arena was huge. It had to seat, what? Twenty thousand? He'd never see me in a crowd of this many people.
But they weren't just people. They were fans… wearing his jersey.
We rounded a corner, and my heart dropped, halting me in place, when I came face to face with him.
Well, a twenty-foot version of him, printed onto a sign and hung from the rafters for all his fans to see. There was another on the wall in a different pose. A life-size cutout version that kids were taking pictures with down the hall.
I could hear my blood pumping in my ears as I looked at that face. Those green eyes. That sneaky smile.
I'd seen it too many times to count.
"Hallie." My name brought me out of my daze. Brian was waiting by an older gentleman, holding out his phone to show him our tickets. "Let's go. We don't want to miss puck drop."
*Yes, I do.* Truthfully, I'd like to miss the whole game.
A large velvet curtain blocked the walkway from the seats. "Have fun," the older man said as he held it open for us to enter.
The ice was blinding white. The music was blaring. The chill was sudden.
Brian put his hand on my lower back, ushering me to walk ahead of him. So I did just that, holding on to the stair railing and climbing up—away from the ice.
He laughed, nodding in the opposite direction. "Our seats are down there, Hallie."
*Of fucking course they are.*
Head down, I didn't look at the ice as I followed him. I watched the back of Brian's feet, willing him to turn into an aisle soon, but he didn't. He kept climbing down, closer to the rink.
I felt eyes on us as we passed loyal fans. Neither of us was wearing team colors or jerseys, yet we were closing in on the seats by the ice.
I'd give them my seat if I could.
The air was noticeably colder the further down we went. It was too close. Way too close, and still Brian didn't stop walking.
"Are you sure we didn't pass the row yet?"
"Positive."
I risked a glance up at the rink and God, it felt like I was practically on it. No players were currently skating on the ice, so I allowed myself a moment to take it in.
He was everywhere.
From the player intros on the jumbo screen to the jerseys surrounding me. It was a different number than he used to wear, but I knew he changed it when he got drafted into the league.
"This is us," Brian said, edging his way through the fans that had their hands and noses pressed to the glass, hoping for a closeup glimpse of one of their favorite players when they skated out.
Because that's where we were sitting. On the glass. Row one.
"Chicago defends twice on this side," he continued as if it was the best thing in the world that we got to sit behind their goalie for two of the three periods.
*But he plays defense.*
I needed to get out of here. Fake sick. Lie about an emergency. But if my heart kept pounding at the rate it was, I might not have to fake much.
"Thank you for coming out with me tonight," Brian said, his palm meeting my knee. "I was so happy when Tyler told me you said yes."
God, I was the worst. This guy was trying to impress me and I was over here having an existential crisis.
Before I could decide if I should stay or leave, the lights dropped low and the music hummed. The in-arena announcer riled up the crowd while everyone found their seats just as the team flew out of the locker room and onto the ice, red jerseys zooming past our seats.
I didn't dare look for him. I kept my eyes down on my lap.
It had been so long.
He had a game to play. His focus would be on the ice. It wasn't like he was going to come out here and scan the crowd. Plus, my hair was so much shorter than it used to be, so even if he did take the time to look, there was no chance he'd recognize me.
He'd never know I was here.
*This is fine.*
"Thank you for inviting me," I said to Brian. "Sorry if I'm a little off. It's been a while since I've dated."
"Don't worry about it. It's been a while for me too." His smile was kind before he nodded towards the ice. "So, hockey is made up of three periods. Offense is split into four lines. You'll see them swap out by the bench and it'll look like chaos."
He continued on about the rules and I turned to face him, nodding along as if I didn't already know these things from attending a certain player's games too many times to count.
Brian's phone dinged in his pocket, but he ignored it and resumed. "Zanders is their captain now. Number eleven. He's a defenseman. Cocky son of a bitch, but insanely good. His blue-line mate is DeLuca. He's—"
"Water!" someone yelled right next to my ear. "Ice-cold water!"
The concessions guy continued to shout, and it thankfully drowned out everything Brian was saying about the player I knew more about than any random stat line he could spit out.
After the anthem and customary puck drop, the game started, but I barely watched. I kept my attention on my lap, on the crowd, on literally anything other than the ice in front of me.
The first period dragged on for too long. I heard his name cheered too many times. I knew he was on this end of the rink, and all I could do was pray for the second period, so he'd finally switch sides.
Would it be rude if I cut out after two periods? Maybe I could convince Brian that I wasn't feeling well, and we should reschedule.
His phone pinged again, but he ignored it.
"I can't believe you haven't watched a second of this!" he shouted from next to me.
"I'm not feeling great."
*That's it. Lay the groundwork.*
He didn't hear me, just like he didn't hear his phone that wouldn't stop going off with back-to-back text messages.
The Raptors were on defense, causing the crowd around me to ramp up their cheers.
It was loud, but I still heard Brian's phone go off again.
"Your phone is blowing up right now." I raised my voice this time so he could hear me.
He kept his eyes on the game, the action happening right in front of us, as he pulled out his phone to mute it. But that's when I saw the screen. There were endless texts from the same person. I didn't know what they said, but whoever it was, their contact name was only an emoji.
The diamond ring emoji.
Brian glanced down at the screen and immediately tried to hide the phone away in his pocket, but it was too late.
I saw it.
"I thought you said you haven't dated in a while." My tone was accusatory.
He wouldn't look at me. "I haven't."
"Are you married?"
He did that annoying thing again where he didn't answer me, and now I realized that shy, nervous energy from earlier was because he was out here going on a date with someone who wasn't his wife.
My disbelieving laugh was a bit manic, but that's how I felt right now. "I'm leaving."
I stood to do so, but the game was still in play, so I quickly sat back down and waited for a whistle.
"Hallie, it's not what you're thinking. We're in an open relationship. It's just that it's newly opened, so I haven't dated in a while."
"And you don't think you should've told me that you're married? Come on. You've got to be kidding me."
An impossibly loud bang rattled the glass in front of me, stealing my attention. A player from Tampa was pinned against the boards after an excruciatingly painful hit. The player slumped to the ice, giving me a perfect view of the man who delivered the blow.
Only to find him.
Rio DeLuca.
Number thirty-eight glared down at his opponent as the crowd banged their fists against the barrier, shaking the glass to celebrate the big hit.
He moved to skate away, but as he shifted his weight on his blades, his eyes flitted upward.
To me.
He froze in place, and I watched as both recognition and disbelief dawned on him. His lips slightly parted, those green eyes tracking every inch of my face. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. I was too locked in, too focused on the man in front of me who was hardly recognizable from the boy I once knew.
He was so close. Only a piece of plexiglass separated us, and I wanted to run away. He blinked quickly, dark brows cinching in confusion before his attention ticked to the guy I was next to for hardly a breath before refocusing on me. Cataloging me. Studying me.
The arena emptied out.
It was completely silent, only him and me.
I remembered the first time I ever saw him. He was playing hockey that day too, but so much had changed between then and now.
Now, he was the one person I'd actively worked to avoid since moving here. The one person who almost kept me from taking the internship in the first place, simply because I knew he lived in this city.
My heart fluttered like it used to before I remembered everything that happened.
Because I might have loved Rio DeLuca once.
But I don't anymore.