Page 84 of Match Penalty

"Promise?" I say bitterly. The truth is that the NHL is too small to hope that I'll never see him again.

Brynn lifts an eyebrow as if she's not buying it and then we say our goodbyes before she leaves with Seven's playbook and a sleeping Milo against her shoulder.

I find myself staring at my phone again. The office feels too quiet, too still, like the whole world is holding its breath.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the phone and dial JP's number. My heart pounds as it rings once, twice...

"Hello?"

I still. The voice that answers isn't JP's. It's a woman, causing my stomach to drop instantly. I pull the phone away from my ear quickly to make sure I didn't hit send to the wrong contact, but the name Jon Paul is listed as the caller on the other side.

"Um, hi," I manage, my throat tight. "Is this... JP's phone?" I ask, just for good measure. Maybe the phone lines got crossed.

"Yes, this is Angelica." Her tone is pleasant, but there's almost a knowing tilt to it. "JP's in the shower right now. This is Cammy, right?"

The world tilts sideways. Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out everything except those words: JP's in the shower.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted, I didn't know—"

"Wait, don't hang up," Angelica says quickly. "I think we should talk—"

I hang up before she can finish, the phone slipping from my fingers onto the desk. The sound it makes seems too loud in the sudden silence of my office.

Angelica.

She's there. With him. While he's in the shower.

Did he break things off with me to get back with her?

The signs were there, and I ignored them. I let him charm his way back in just like he had done the first time.

And now, here I am again, cutting myself on the same sharp edges.

I grab my keys and bag, needing to get out of this office, away from the memories, away from the evidence of how stupid I've been. The drive to Brynn's is a blur, streetlights smearing together through tears I refuse to let fall.

She opens the door before I can knock, one look at my face telling her everything she needs to know.

"What happened?" she asks, pulling me inside.

"Angelica answered his phone," I say, my voice cracking as I try to hold back tears. The words taste like ash. "He's with her. Again."

Brynn leads me to the couch, her hand warm against my arm. "Maybe it's not what you think—"

"What else could it be?" I cut her off. I shouldn't snap at her, she's done nothing wrong. "She said he was in the shower, Brynn. In the shower. Just like..." I can't finish the sentence.

"Okay," she says softly. "But—"

"No." I stand up, unable to sit still. "No buts. No maybes. No more excuses for him. I'm done."

"Cammy—"

"He made his choice," I say, pacing the length of her living room. "Again. And you know what? Fine. Let him have her. Let him have whatever he wants. But if he stays, I go. I can't be in the stadium with him."

The thought of leaving the only real home I've ever known is painful, but staying and being in the same building with him—knowing that he could throw me away a second time so easily and seeing her in his seats wearing his jersey—is the kind of chronic ache I just can't live with. My heart will die a slow and torturous death.

Understanding dawns on Brynn's face. "The auction bet."

"No matter the outcome, one of us leaves." My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, cold and hard. "Three shots and then it's over."

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