Page 50 of In It to Win It

I blow out a breath and return to the living room.

“I told them what happened,” Lacey says. “I hope that’s okay.”

I nod. That’s actually way easier than telling them myself. “Thanks.”

“Sorry, Taylor,” Théo says.

I nod.

“It sucks,” JP adds gruffly. “Sorry you’re going through this.”

I meet his eyes, trying not to, but unable to resist. And I see warmth and compassion there, and that nearly undoes me all over again. Tears well up in my eyes and I have to fight them back, dashing at them with my knuckles. “Do you have any tequila?”

“You know we do.” Lacey jumps up and returns with the bottle and some small glasses. “And it’s not stupid to worry about Byron. You love him.”

“I do.” I pout a little, petting Byron’s silky back as I watch her pour the golden liquid. “So much.” I swipe at one more lone tear.

JP clears his throat, then picks up a glass of tequila and downs it.

I lift my own glass, stare glumly at it, then take a sip. “Thanks for this. And thanks for listening and letting me cry all over you.”

“Of course.” Lacey smiles. “You listened to me when I was crying over Théo.”

“You were crying over me?” Théo lifts an eyebrow.

“Of course I was.”

“He was crying over you too,” JP says to Lacey.

Théo flashes him a middle finger. “I was not.” He pauses. “Okay, I got a little choked up.”

I smile at this interplay. I love these people.

I mean, not JP. Notlovelove.

But they’re making me feel a bit better.

JP

This sucks camel dick.

I fucking hate seeing Taylor so upset. A lump of cold granite lodges in my gut and all I want to do is pull her into my arms and comfort her. Dry her tears and tell her it’s all going to be okay.

But I can’t do that.

Just when I discover she really wasn’t with Martinez and I’m free to . . . what? “Go after her” sounds kind of dickish. “Court her” sounds ridiculously old-fashioned. Whatever you call it, I’m attracted to her and I like her and I want to see more of her. But she’s seeing someone else, that fuckstick Anthony. I’ve already screwed up once by, uh, screwing her when another dude thought she was his. And I did that big time with my own brother. No way can I even think about going there again.

Fuck my life.

The hockey season hasn’t started yet; it’s almost two more weeks until the start of regular season. I haven’t even had a chance to show the team that I can stay out of trouble and be an asset, other than in a couple of preseason games. And damned if I’m going to give in to some kind of weird temptation when it comes to women and just prove I’m a total asshole. It’s too soon to fail. No . . . I’m not going to fail.

It’s killing me, though, seeing the droop of her lips, mascara smudges beneath her puffy eyes, her cheeks blotchy. She should look terrible, but she’s never been more appealing.

“You want to stay here for dinner?” Lacey invites Taylor. I’ve already been invited. “We’re going to make fajitas.”

“Sure.” She nods listlessly. “I don’t want to go home yet. God.” She closes her eyes and tips her head back. “This is going to be so awkward.”

“When is your mom moving out?”

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