Page 52 of Stick Fight

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to wait and take your order after Roman arrives?”

“Yeah, that would be great thanks.”

She laughs and points to the chowder with her pencil. “Or you can just order this for him.” She taps her pencil. “It’s what he always gets.”

She knows him well, that’s for sure. “That does look good. He has some friends with him, so I’ll wait until everyone orders.”

“Sounds good.”

She disappears and I pull my phone out. I haven’t wanted to check social media. I can’t imagine what’s being spread about the wedding that didn’t happen. Taking a breath, I start scrolling, and then I check Cass’s profile. I stiffen a little, my hand a bit shaky when I reach for my coffee. According to Cass, I had an emergency and the wedding needed to be postponed. No one on social media is saying anything bad about me. In fact, they’re all sending their love and care, and dammit, I think I’d rather a smear campaign, because this really makes it seem like we’re not over. How will Roman’s friends feel about that if they do research on me?

I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea about us. He’s just a guy helping a friend until she gets on her feet. Sure, I might be on my back in his bed while he’s helping but that’s no one’s business but our own. Still, I can’t help but feel a bit worried. I know the WAGs are a close, protective group, and I’m an outsider they’d be wise to be suspicious of.

Did I make the right decision in coming here?

15

Roman

“When are you going to get your own car, dude?” Tanner asks as he pulls up behind Tuck’s truck outside The Nook.

I shrug, and yes, I’ve been asked this a thousand times. “Why would I? It’s way more fun hitching a ride with you. Plus, I don’t have a kid to drive around like some suburban dad.” If I’m happy about that, why do I suddenly have a very real pang of envy?

“Yeah, well, Gabby will need transportation if she agrees to this,” Tanner shoots back.

Tucker hops from his truck and strolls toward us as I consider that. “Maybe I’ll actually adult this year. I guess the freeloading is getting old.”

Tanner chuckles at that. “Get out of my car, rookie.”

I jump out too, adrenaline kicking in—not from the ride, but because Gabby’s inside. Tuck pulls the café door open and we step into the warm buzz of espresso machines and low chatter. My eyes scan the room until they find her—Gabby, sitting at a table for four, stirring her coffee a smile on her face when she sees me.

“There she is,” I say, probably too eagerly, and head straight over. I slide into the seat next to her, almost on instinct, like I belong there. I lean in like I might kiss her, but stop short at the last second. Right. The guys don’t know. As far as they’re concerned, I’m just helping out a friend from back home. Still, I swear the air between us crackles with a “we’re not just friends” kind of vibe.

She smiles softly and fidgets with her cup. I reach under the table and give her leg a light squeeze—reassurance, connection. She relaxes just a bit, and I swear it makes the whole room fade out.

“Gabby, meet Tuck and Tanner.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” she says, her voice warm and friendly, even though she’s a bit nervous. “I’ve loved watching you play. Tanner, you come from quite the hockey dynasty.”

I grin like a dope. She’s smooth, and I suddenly care way too much about my friends liking her. Which is weird. And kind of huge.

“You know your hockey,” Tanner says, visibly impressed. “Nice to meet you too, Gabby.” He gives her a firm handshake, and Tuck leans in next.

“Pleasure,” Tuck says, but his eyes immediately drift across the room. Of course. Maria’s here. She’s serving a table like she doesn’t feel Tuck’s stare setting her apron on fire. Honestly, they just need to hook up already.

“Did you order yet?” I ask Gabby, turning back to her.

“Nope,” she says with a small grin. “I met Avery, though. She said she already knew what you’d order.”

I chuckle, and wonder how much Avery said about me. We had a ‘thing’ a while ago, but it fizzled, like my ‘things’ always do. I don’t do relationships.

“Chowder,” I say, and rub my stomach dramatically. “And obviously cinnamon rolls. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Ah, I thought you said no treats during the season.”

“Well, I’m still in vacation mode.” She eyes me, and I continue to justify it. “I have to wean myself off them, okay?”

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