The One You Fight For (The One, #2)

twenty-five

Luke

Later, when I'm sitting alone in my room, I let the emotions overwhelm me. First comes the sadness. A few tears are shed because I'm realizing how much Mason and Olivia played me. There's not enough information for me to determine how long their affair was going on, but something tells me it's longer than I'm guessing. Why? Because I'm too fucking nice to people. My best friend and ex-girlfriend—someone I wanted to propose to before I met Rosa—played me like a violin. And now I feel a little broken, despite being happy I can pursue whatever this is with Rosa.

Second, Kate was right all along. All this time, my sister was right about Olivia. I just... I never thought Mason would be part of the problem. It feels like someone is sawing my sternum in half. I can't fucking breathe without my nose burning. Without feeling like my throat is closing up. It's as if two of my once-favourite people have banished me to exile.

Anger comes third. Had Mason and Olivia talked to me about their feelings, things would be different. People fall out of love as much as they fall in love. What matters is how that's dealt with. Cheating is not the answer. Telling me would've resulted in me finding a way not only to cope, but support them as well as my boundaries would allow. Instead, I'm picking up the pieces of a mess I didn't create.

Then, finally, there's confusion. What am I supposed to do now? I'm stuck walking a thin line. I deserve answers. The more I think about, the less time I want to waste dealing with their drama. However, I can't continue to fake a friendship with Mason—especially if any teammates know about their relationship.

Fucking hell, I'm a mess.

Frustrated, I push away from the window. It's dark out now, and the city lights are glimmering. In the distance, I can see the arena. It stands like a beacon in the night. Being born and raised in Ontario, playing for Toronto has been my dream since I was a kid. Just like John Tavares, there's a photo of me sleeping in my bed wearing Toronto pyjamas with now-retired players' merchandise strewn throughout.

An idea sparks in my mind. With trade season on the horizon and me becoming and RFA... The thought is tempting, but my analysis is interrupted by the dinging of my phone.

It's a short distance from the foot of the bed to the nightstand. I unplug my phone and unlock the screen, tapping on my messages. My stomach does a funny flip when I see Rosa's name. After today's session, I convinced her to take my number. It was for future use, so I'm surprised she's texted me so soon. Surprised, but glad. The more time I spend with Rosa, the more attracted I am to her. She's like a book full of twists and turns. I want to discover everything about her. Know her.

I pull up the text message, reading it over a couple of times.

Rosa: Hainsey and Emlyn are insisting you come for dinner this weekend. I think our sisters have been talking again because I also received a text from Kate, telling me to buck up and ask you out. If you're comfortable with bending the rules, Luke Madden, then I would like to invite you to dinner this weekend. With me. Like a casual date.

At first, there's a flash of disappointment. Once the program ended, I had plans to ask her out. She's beaten me to it. I let that disappointment fester for a moment, then tell myself to smarten up. Rosa taking the first date is so Rosa. Everything about her is organized and specific, which I like. Especially when it comes to communication.

I smile, responding with: What should I bring?

Rosa: Nothing, but I know you'll insist. Hainsey likes rum and Emyln loves a good glass of rosé. I'll pick you up from your parents' house on Saturday? They're still figuring out a time. I think it depends on whether or not you're coming.

Me: Count me in. Text me the time once you have it figured out.

Rosa: ...Hainsey will smother you.

I snort. Rosa can't fathom how many fans smother me whenever I'm out in public. Besides, after everything I've heard about Hainsey Stone, I'm looking forward to meeting him. Something tells me we'll get along well. As a buffer (and in case I somehow fuck up), maybe I'll bring another signed jersey.

Me: I can't handle it.

Part of me wonders why Rosa wants to bend our rules. When I asked to kiss her today, she was her usual stern, rule-following self. Something changed her mind, and I have to ask.

Me: Is this a pity date?

Rosa takes a few minutes to respond. The dots appearing then disappearing then appearing again.

Rosa: Partially. You didn't deserve to be wronged by your friends. A good home-cooked meal cooked by Hainsey, along with some good family vibes will distract you from that. But I also want to see you. Emlyn and Hainsey's place is isolated, so we have enough privacy.

Her response is fair enough—and she makes a good point. The idea of a distraction makes me feel a little better. Mason, Olivia, and I will need to have a conversation, but I don't have to comply with time. I need to mull things over a little more. Plus, I also want to spend time with Rosa. Perhaps even a little more if she'll let me.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip, picturing us alone in her apartment. She's mentioned her minimalist style, but I think she's not giving herself enough credit. I bet her apartment hold a helluva lot of character.

Me: One more question.

Rosa: Okay.

Me: Did you want more than a kiss on the cheek?

She replies immediately.

Rosa: I wanted everything, Luke.

Pressing my phone to my chest, I flop back onto the bed. The goofiest smile is present on my face, and I'm wishing Saturday would come faster. I'm already cataloguing which rum and rosé to buy for Emyln and Hainsey. Deciding whether or not I should stop at a drug store and buy condoms, too. Maybe I should pack an overnight bag just in case. Or perhaps I'm reading too much into this. 

I don't know what to expect, but something tells me this'll be the best weekend of my life.