Page 43 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
I turn to face Luna as she straightens, her mouth curved. “I was just saying what we were all thinking—well, all of us except for Bri, anyway. Though…” She lifts and drops on slender shoulder. “Who knows what might happen if a cute, young player joins the roster.”
Bri wrinkles her nose. “Ew.” A beat. “Also, I told you. I’m bi.”
“Great. That means you have double the dating pool, including the age-appropriate section of the Grizzlies’ roster.” Luna rubs her hands together. “Think of all the matchmaking possibilities that await you.”
“Luna,” Kailey begins.
“I’m not dating a hockey player,” Bri grumbles. “Not ever.”
“Damn right,” Aiden says as he pushes past us, his arms laden with bags.
My pulse begins pounding in my ears as I struggle to keep track of the conversation.
“Why not?” Luna demands. “Aiden is a hockey player and he’s great.”
“He’s the exception,” Bri replies. “Smitty is too,” she tells Kailey, who shoots her a small smile.
“Definitely agree,” Leo says, one hand gripping a mitt-ful of bags. The other he uses to ruffle Bri’s hair.
Hair she quickly attempts to right.
Then fails because Ryan’s a step behind Leo and he does his own ruffling.
“No dating hockey players,” he says, carrying in his handful of bags.
Luna rolls her eyes, opens her mouth?—
“Did I hear matchmaking?” Smitty booms, both arms laden with bags.
I jump.
Kailey sighs.
Gray growls as he carries his own load past me.
Meanwhile, I’m pin balling back and forth, trying to track the conversation, the bags, the entries and exits, the teasing and relationships, and knowing an instant later, that I’ll never be able to.
There’s too much history.
No, it’s just that it’s all too much.
The voices blur around me, I waver as dizziness washes over me.
I can’t do this.
I need to go.
Need my quiet.
Need my space.
Need to remind myself that I don’t have a big, loud, albeit clearly loving family.
I’m alone.
Always. Forever.
And that’s the only way this is going to end.
