Page 26 of Triple Play
I don’t care.
I dump my barely-touched salad in the trash, leave my coffee on the table, and walk out before I do something stupid, like turn around and tell those girls that Grant Wilder used to be capable of feelings. That he kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him alive. That the emotionally unavailable thing is a choice, not a personality trait.
But I don’t say any of that.
Because it doesn’t matter. Because two years is a long time. Because maybe the Grant I kissed at that bonfire is gone, replaced by the legend those girls are discussing.
And I don’t get to be sad about it.
By the time I get back to the townhouse, my jaw aches from clenching it all day.
I pull into the parking lot and head toward my assigned spot.
Someone’s already in it.
A truck. Lifted. Obnoxious. With a Crestmont hockey decal in the back window.
I sit in my idling car and stare at it.
They took my spot.
I park in visitor parking, three blocks away, and hike back to the townhouse with my backpack digging into my shoulders.
The walk gives me time to think.
Grant wants to make my life difficult? His teammates want to follow his lead?
Fine.
Two can play this game.
And I play to win.
The house is empty when I get back. Tuesday afternoon means practice until six.
Perfect.
I drop my bag in my room and stand there for a second, plotting.
If they want to treat me like an inconvenience, a problem to be dealt with, then I’m going to be the most inconvenient problem they’ve ever encountered.
But I’m going to have fun with it.
I pull open my dresser drawer and locate my nicest underwear: the lace ones, the thongs—the ones I bought because they make me feel confident, even if no one else sees them.
Well.
Someone’s about to see them.
I head to the laundry room, a cramped space off the kitchen with a washer, dryer, and absolutely no privacy.
I set all the underwear on top of the dryer, where they’ll be impossible to miss.
Then I go back to my room and dig through my nightstand.
My vibrator is sleek, purple, and expensive because I believe in investing in quality.
I take it to the bathroom.
