Page 98 of Perfectly Grumpy

I lean toward her. “You don’t have to do anything—and I’m not just saying that to win. Sometimes this family makes it feel that way, but I’m giving you permission to do what you want. If that’s compete by yourself, you should do it.”

“Really?” she asks, thinking this over.

“Why not? I don’t think it’s fair that we have to compete as pairs.”

Her lips curve upward. “Yeah, you’re right. Bart can fight his own battles. Team Abby is going to kick his butt.”

We both laugh, and that’s when she spots my phone where I have the Crushers’ Facebook page still open.

“Are you still happy working for the Crushers?” she asks.

“They’ve been the best team I’ve ever worked for,” I say, glancing at a picture of Tate. The words are true, which makes this whole situation even more complicated.

She gives me a funny look. “Huh.”

“Why?”

She hesitates for a second before responding. “Because the other night, you left your laptop in Patty’s room and when I opened it to see whose computer it was, there was a job application on the screen.” She tucks her hair behind her ear again. “Kansas City, right?”

Heat crawls up my neck. Being caught hiding a secret is bad enough, but being caught in one secret that potentially exposes another one feels like the foundation of our whole ruse is starting to crack.

“I was just checking out options,” I say casually. “I’m always looking at NHL job openings.”

“Even though you’re dating one of the players?” she asks. “But why? You never seemed like the type for a summer fling.”

“He’s not my summer fling,” I say quickly. Because it’s worse than that. He’s not even my boyfriend.

My palms start to sweat. This is exactly why I hate secrets—it inevitably spirals into something more until I’m trapped in a web of my own making.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound bad,” she says apologetically. “It just seems strange you’re considering a long-distance move in the middle of a new relationship. When I’d think you’d be…” She pauses.

“What?”

“I don’t know, sticking around to see where this goes?”

I look down at my hands. How do I explain that the job in Kansas City represents everything I’ve worked for? That as much as I care about the Crushers—about Tate—I’ve been planning my career trajectory since college? That the NHL is my dream, just like making it there is his?

But how do I also explain the growing dread I feel every time I think about finishing that application?

“Hockey players move around all the time,” I say as an excuse. “He never intended to stay either.”

Abby looks at me, and for a moment I’m afraid she can seestraight through me. “But that’s how love works, Lauren. You stay for the one who’s worth it.”

Which is exactly why she thinks it’s strange I would leave. Especially now, when I have the most incredible guy in the world.

I look away from her as something balloons in my chest. What would Abby say if she knew the truth about us? That I’m applying for jobs while simultaneously developing feelings for a man who’s doing me a favor?

“You know me, Abby,” I say, my voice quietly strained. “I’ve always put my career first.”

But for the first time in my life, I’m not sure if that’s even true anymore.

THIRTY-TWO

lauren

My mind is still churning from this morning’s conversation with Abby when I head outside for the annual hide-and-seek competition. I came way too close to giving away our charade when Abby asked questions about Kansas City. Not only did I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for not telling her the truth about Tate, but the entire conversation made me question my own priorities—things I never would’ve given a second thought to before this week.

But there’s no time to dwell on that now. Aunt Karen stands before us, ready to announce the rules for our game this afternoon. I catch sight of Tate across the circle, still wearing his ridiculously cute socks with hiking boots, looking windblown and far too handsome after his Nerf battle with the kids. He catches my eye and gives me a small, private smile that makes my heart flip.

---