Stand and Defend (Lakes Hockey Series Book 4)

“Do you think they like each other?” I ask Micky as our dogs “play” in Micky and Rhys’s uptown loft, smashing into furniture like two clumsy beasts, all seven legs skittering across the floor—Chicken Salad four, Craig three.

“Right? Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure, I’ll take some water.” I take a seat on the couch, then bounce on the cushion twice. Comfy. “I like your sofa,” I say, as she returns to the living room with a glass of sparkling water.

“IKEA.”

“Nice.” I take a sip of the water and lean back. “Thanks for letting me crash with you.”

She takes a gulp of her water and folds her legs up under her on the couch. “Okay, sorry, I’m nosy and this is driving me nuts—what the hell is going on with you and Banksy? I’ve been hounding Rhys, and he can’t figure it out either.”

“Uhhh,” I say with a nervous giggle. I shrug. “I don’t really know, if I’m being honest. Things have gotten more intense. I like him. Is that weird though? So soon after breaking my engagement—the engagement where Cam was the best man?” He’s shown me how to stand on my own two feet. I like being my own person, creating my own life with my own friends and responsibilities. I didn’t realize how trapped I felt with Bryan until I was set free. I’m eating up my independence. The new Jordan don’t need no man.

“Okay, I want you to take that whole mess out of the equation. For now, pretend Bryan didn’t exist and Cam was a stranger you met on the street. Now how do you feel about him?”

A smile creeps onto my face. “He’s perfect.”

She smiles even bigger than me. “That’s your answer. Don’t let the public drama fuck with what you and he share privately. If you like him, you like him. And it sounds like you’re the first person Banks has ever gotten close to, which means he definitely feels some way about you.”

Micky makes it seem so easy.NôvelDrama.Org exclusive content.

“We’re in a weird spot. I think he wants more, but I’m not ready to make the leap. Does he even realize what he would be giving up? You’ve seen him, he keeps women like secrets.”

She scoffs. “But you’re essentially living together. So what’s your endgame?” she asks, turning up the TV and switching the channel to the game in Vancouver.

There are times we look at each other and I see the strong attraction in his eyes. The closest he came to acknowledging it was in the boathouse. He’s never been in a real relationship before. What if he decides it’s not for him and wants to continue to play the field? I’d be left crushed and alone. I reacted poorly, but this is a big deal—for both of us. It’s not something we’d be able to dip our toes into and walk away from unscathed. If I take down that barrier between us, I’d fall hard, and it scares the hell out of me. Cam is my best friend. He knows me on a level deeper than I’ve allowed anyone else to go.

“You’re right. Unfortunately, I acted like an idiot over Thanksgiving. I pushed him away when I should have pulled him closer.”

Her nose scrunches. “Why the hell did you do that?”

I cover my face. “I don’t know, I panicked or something. It was so stupid.”

Doesn’t mean I can’t undo it. Shit. I don’t want to wait too long and lose the opportunity. My hands fall to my sides. “No. You know what? I’m gonna tell him. Tonight. After his game, I’m going to call him. Fuck this no-talking bullshit.”

“Hell yeah!” Micky holds her drink out to cheers with me. Yeah. This feels good. I will get it all off my chest, and he can take it or leave it. But not knowing feels so much worse.

“Ooh, we need snacks!” Micky hops up and hurries to the kitchen to grab a bowl of popcorn.

There’s a subtle bass in the floor from the live music below us at Sugar and Ice, the cocktail lounge Micky owns. “Hey, how’s business, by the way? Sounds like it’s hopping downstairs.”

“It’s going really well! We’re partnering with Citra brewing, and they have a couple guys who have been awesome mentors for me.”

“That’s so great! Sounds exciting.”

“It is! What are you doing for work?”

I sigh and lean back, folding my legs in front of me. “Nothing yet. I’ve been thinking about volunteering with Safehouse, Cam’s project, until I figure it out. I gotta get out more.”

She nods. “Well, what do you like to do?”

I cringe. “I’m trying to figure that out. Most of my life has been a certain way. My hobbies were chosen for me,” I say, thinking of all the equestrian and piano lessons. “And now I’m late to the party trying to find myself. After the engagement ended, I realized I’ve never really been in control of my own life. So I’m looking for something . . . new. Something fulfilling that benefits other people. It’s gotta feel right, ya know?”

She swallows her drink and nods. “Absolutely. Sugar and Ice is my baby, and if I didn’t have it, I’d be lost. Speaking of, do you want to go out tonight? I mean, if you want, we can go downstairs and get free drinks,” she says, pointing at the floor.

I purse my lips and cock my head to the side. “Are we still doing brunch with the girls tomorrow?”

“Bottomless Bloody Marys.”

“Nah, let’s stay in and watch the game.”

She holds her fist in the air and grabs the remote, turning on the pregame show. “I’m secretly relieved you said that.” She ties her hair up into a messy bun and rolls her eyes. “The finance bros tend to take over Thursday nights, and they’d be trying to suck our dicks all night.”

I laugh and take another sip of my sparkling water. Cam’s headshot splashes on the TV as the hockey analysts discuss his new role as captain. They talk about him like he’s the team wildcard, and maybe he is, but they don’t know him like I do.

Once the game starts, I smile. Every time he makes a swift pass, steals the puck, or outmaneuvers another player by quickly switching directions, I’m left in awe of his skill and ability to anticipate moves of other players. He’s talented as hell.

Micky decides we need to up the ante and whips together a few cocktails. They’re delicious, and before we know it, we’re three drinks in, and it’s not even halfway through second period. My whole body is fuzzy and warm. We’ve become more belligerent and animated as the game goes on. The Lakes are in their element.

“Fuck yeah!” Micky yells, holding her hand out to me.

I give her an aggressive high-five, and we take another drink.

I hiccup. “If we keep drinking every time they score a goal, we aren’t going to make it to third period. We might die. They’re on fire tonight.”

“They’re spanking Vancouver! Hey, wanna get some food? This is so fun, it’s like a sleepover. I never get girl time anymore since Birdie and Raleigh insisted on reproducing.” She tosses her hand in the air.

Laughing, I nod. “Oh god, it’s been forever since I’ve had girlfriends to do stuff with.”

She scrunches up her face. “Really? Why?”

I lift my shoulders. “Don’t have a ton of close friends.” I avoid saying that rich people don’t often have many real friends because it makes me sound like an enormous tool. “My former best friend fucked my fiancé. It’s been a dry spell for girl time lately.”

Ever so slowly, she turns her head to face me with wide eyes.

“What. The fuck. Go get your pajamas on. I’m going to refresh our drinks, and then you’re going to tell me everything.”

I laugh, and she snatches the mostly empty glass from my hand. This is fun.

When we have our sweats on—both of us in Lakes gear—I tell her the story. All of it. It surprises me when I get emotional. I’ve never talked about it beginning to end before, it’s a massive release. Like pouring out my guts, but I only put back the stuff I want to keep, the good parts. Parts of me that are healing and strong, parts with Camden. Letting go of all the bad memories.

Bryan didn’t break me. And after hearing about Bluetower from Cam’s dad, I’m going to balance the scales.

Micky wraps her arms around me. “Does Banksy know all of that?”

I nod. “Most of it. I didn’t tell him about the night he laid his hands on me.”

“So what are you going to do?”

I give her a pointed look.

She narrows her eyes in understanding. “You’re going to fuck Bryan up, aren’t you?”

I smirk back and nod into my drink. That’s the plan.

That night, I lie in bed and marvel the bright full moon centered in the window frame. It’s beautiful. Even with the lights of the city, it shines bright like a spotlight into the spare bedroom. My stomach twists as I try to prepare what I want to say to Camden. I’ve got to tell him how I feel. My phone dings, and I grab it.

Cam: Hey

Me: Hey!

Cam: Miss you.

Me: I miss you too.

Cam: I was talking to Chicken Salad. How is she?

I smile and reach down to scratch her behind the ears. She’s lying on my legs, as usual.

Me: She and Craig are thick as thieves.

Cam: Good to hear. Did you girls watch the game?

Me: The football game?

Cam: Sass me again. I dare you.

Me: Double dare me . . .

I wait for his response but there’s nothing. I need to hear his voice. I hit the phone icon next to his name, and it rings a couple times before a woman answers his phone. It’s noisy in the background. “You’ve reached Banksy’s Pants . . . Banksy’s not in his pants right now, can I take a message?”

My stomach sinks. Shit.

“Hello?” She giggles.

Blood drains from my face. I panic and end the call. What the fuck was that?

I swipe at my eyes. This is why I shouldn’t be considering anything with him, he’s not ready for something more than friends. Maybe I’m not either.

God, and after everything I said to Micky? She’ll ask how our talk went tomorrow. This is so humiliating.

I wait for him to call. To text me. To say it was a joke or there’s some misunderstanding, but he doesn’t. I want him to tell me it’s not what it sounded like. In a desperate attempt, I dial him back, but it goes to voicemail after two rings. He dismissed my call. It’s over. After hours of conjuring images of Camden with other women, I eventually fall asleep with wet cheeks.

Cam: Did you try calling me last night?

Me: Butt dial.

Cam: K. Sorry we couldn’t talk last night, had some stuff to deal with.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

Me: Micky said she can drop me off at home. You don’t have to pick me up.

Cam: I’m picking you up.

Micky ties her combat boots while I slip on a pair of wedged boots. I’m still antiheels since having to walk five miles in them. I glance over at the dogs sleeping in a pile. We woke them every time we jumped in the air with a goal, which riled them up and quickly wore them out. Last night was great. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m sure she was nobody. Probably some drunk fan.”

“It’s fine. We weren’t exclusive. He can do what he wants.” I shrug.

She looks at me with eyes full of sympathy, and her pity makes it worse. I fake a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m okay, Micky. Really.”

She nods and gives me a hug. “Men are so fucking dumb.”

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m done with them.

We meet Raleigh and Birdie at brunch, and they wave to us from a table in the corner.

“Hey!” They give me a hug. “We already ordered a round.”

“Bless you. Micky and I were up way too late watching the game.” I was up late imagining Cam with the woman that answered his phone.

Raleigh slaps her hand on the table. “They played so well! I’m so happy Barrett is getting a great final season. They’re high in the standings.”

I nod.

“These are delicious,” Micky says, pulling out the piece of bacon from the Bloody Mary and biting off the end. “Tomatoes and vodka bring out the best in each other.”

Raleigh raises her Virgin Mary. “To hockey widows.” She winks at me. “You’re one of us now.”

I’m definitely not.

“Hockey widows!” the other girls say, though Micky is less enthusiastic than the others. She grips my hand under the table, and we all clink glasses.

“Micky?” A gorgeous woman stops at the table, and Micky’s eyes get big. “Oh, shit. Ken! What are you doing here? Everybody, this is Kendra. Kendra, these are my girls, Raleigh, Birdie, and Jordan. Wanna join us? We’ve got room.”

“Can’t, I’m meeting with a few people, just had to stop by and say hi.”

Micky thrums her fingers on the table and bounces her eyebrows. “Producers? Are you finally making a reality show about my life?” She smiles sweetly.

“Ha! No, sorry. But I am meeting with a couple creators to discuss the show.”

Birdie and Raleigh get caught up on kid stuff, and I eavesdrop on the conversation between Micky and Kendra while I browse the menu.

“What do you mean he dropped out?”

Kendra shrugs. “Yeah. Can you believe that shit? So now I’m on the hunt for a new bachelor. I’ve got to come up with somebody soon, or they’ll scrap the show. So if you know of anyone . . .”

Camden Teller comes to mind.

“What about Rhys’s old captain? Lee Sullivan?”

Kendra frowns and raises her eyebrows as she considers it. She shifts her weight. “Would he be interested?”

“I’ll have Rhys talk to him. Do you have a card?”

Kendra digs one out of her purse and hands it to her. “Okay, my team is here. Thank you so much. Let’s talk later!”

“You got it! Good luck.”

She nods. “Good to see you, babe.”

“Okay, who’s hungry?” Birdie asks.

“Me,” Raleigh says, opening up a menu. “Swear to God, if I have to eat another bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast I’m going to start intermittent fasting. I can’t do it.”