The One You Can't Forget (The One, #1)

sixteen

Emyln

The guys are just a bunch of flirts and drunks – minus the bachelor himself; he seems like a decent guy. For the next six hours of mountain biking up various types of terrain, I can feel eyes on my ass. Maybe Hainsey had a point about me not coming on this trip.

But I shake that off. Screw him being right. I can handle a little bit of flirting. What I can't handle is that they're constantly trying to talk to me and taking up all this bonding time I have with Hainsey. I'm supposed to be at the front, leading the way and discussing an interest or something we share with him, but I'm not. Instead, I'm stuck in the middle listening to how much the jackass to my left can bench press.

I roll my eyes. Every word that comes out of this guy's mouth is a cry for help. He's twenty-seven and still single, a workout junkie, watches football, and loves the taste of cold beer on a hot summer day. And you know what? I don't give a shit about him or what is better: Corona or Budweiser.

"Well," I say through gritted teeth once Scout is finished talking. Okay – his name isn't actually "Scout," but he just reminds me of one of those kids that signs up for Boy Scouts. "I'm not sorry to say that I happen to prefer tequila. So, what I'm saying is, I don't give a shit about beer, okay?"

Probably not the best thing to say when I'm supposed to be acting as a friendly tour guide for my mother's business, but my patience is wearing as thin as a layer of plastic wrap.

Taking his moment of stunned silence as my chance, I pedal hard and wind my way through the group to where Hainsey and the bachelor are chatting up a storm about hockey, my legs screaming in protest. I don't butt into the conversation right away – I eavesdrop. It turns out the bachelor – Ethan – is from Calgary and a big fan of the Flames. I snort at his choice.

Both guys eye me, eyebrows cocked.

"Got something to say, Ems?" Hainsey asks.

I squint at him. Is that a note of playfulness I'm detecting in his voice? I hope so. "Yeah," I nod, looking at Ethan. "The Flames? Really?" I look back at Hainsey. "How can you even have a conversation with him? We're Canucks fans. Red doesn't blend with blue."

Hainsey shrugs. "We're purple – we're having a friendly rivalry."

Ethan laughs, and then asks me, "So you're a hockey girl?"

"That's right," I nod. While I would prefer it if it were just Hains and I, I actually sort of like this Ethan guy. He's acting as a buffer. "Vancouver Canucks all the way."

The bachelor tsks and shakes his head, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. "We can agree to disagree. Like your boyfriend said, we're purple. So who's your favourite player?"

I flinch, waiting for Hainsey to come back and say that we're nothing. I know I don't deserve him in any way, but every time he rejects me it tends to hurt. But the moment never comes.