Page 15 of Facing Off
I slump back against the wall. “I mean, if you want to…”
She gives me a long, amused stare.
The corner of my frown lifts slightly. “For the record, I’m not antisocial. I’m just socially selective.”
Kavi snickers. “Thank you for explaining what I already know.”
“Always.” I pause, before adding, “When it’s just you and me, it’s easy.”
Kavi squeezes my arm and smiles. “And Quinn? He’s here. He’d hide with you, too.”
I rub the underside of my elbow. “Yeah…okay. Him, too.”
Nobody else, though. Unlike Kavi, the people I’d consider important couldn’t fill my home up. Granted, unlike Kavi and Dmitri who live in a sweeping penthouse, I have and adore my little studio apartment.
But, still.
I’m a woman with one best friend. Other than that, the only person left in my life from my past is my brother Quinn. For a brief nine months we shared the same foster family when we were kids, then he left me. Or, I guess, he had to leave.
I thought I’d never see him again, but then right before my twentieth birthday, he found me online. At first I ignored him and pretended that he didn’t matter, that the promises we made as kids to beforever siblingswere meaningless.
But he kept reaching out, asking me if I needed anything and letting me know he was there for me. I cracked. A bit.
I started writing back to Quinn.
His response was immediate, and his replies were so respectful and patient. He revealed what had happened to him after he left, and because he had valid reasons about why it took him so long to reconnect, I gradually let him back into my life.
Now we support each other when we can. In my mind, it’s cool and a bonus when it happens, but for him? Whenever his professional hockey career allows for time off, he invites me over.
I can’t and don’t always say yes.
Ballet keeps me pretty busy, and that’s how I like it.
Outside of this pantry, there’s way more noise. Kavi and I turn our heads towards the door. Someone must’ve told a hilarious joke, the way the laughter just spiked.
“That’s probably Adrian…” Kavi sneaks a glance at me. “He was looking around for a while, you know. Almost as if he was looking for acertain someoneto see if she was here.”
Her eyebrows waggle.
I scowl. “Did you tell him I was coming to this party?”
“No, but I bet he’d love to spend some time with you.”
I snort. “Guess what I overheard earlier? A group of rookies talking by the bar cart. Apparently he’s taking them out clubbing after this. I thinkthat’swhere Adrian Hughes’ priorities are tonight.” I roll my eyes and mutter under my breath,“Fuckboy.”
“There’s more to him than you think, Sonya.”
I shake my head. “We’re completely different people.”
He doesn’t really know me. Not in any real way. He flirts because I resist him, and that eggs him on. That’s what this is to someone like Hughes. A game. He can toss all the pucks he wants at me. Just like Quinn, I’m sending them back.
If I ever actually open up, if I didn’t roll my eyes or walk away, he’d lose interest in a heartbeat. Because the truth is, what he wants? It’s notme.
He’s better off with someone who matches him. Someone bright, loud, easy.
I am not that woman. I never will be.
And he’s going to figure that out sooner or later. Not that I’m giving him the chance to. I don’t flirt back. I don’t indulge him. I don’t even acknowledge half of what he says to me. Because it’s not real. It’snothing. Just anotherpassing impulse for Adrian Hughes, who changes women like he changes socks.
