“Infatuated? I thought you loved him.”
She shakes her head as she leans into the bar, her eyes on me. “If I had, I would be more hurt. I’m actually good, kind of free.”
Huh. I sort of feel like that. I miss Maxim, but I think I miss the loneliness he kept at bay.
“I think I cried more over Asher leaving than I did when Taco left.”
“Because Asher is your soul mate.”
She snorts. “No! He’s my bestie.”
I shake my head. She’s delusional. “I don’t miss Maxim, but I am lonely.”
She leans on her hand. “Didn’t Shelli tell you to hook up with someone? Do that. You’ll stop feeling lonely when you’re being bent over something.”
I turn beet red. “Ally!”
“Seriously. Isn’t there someone you’ve found hot lately? Aren’t those Assassins kind of cute?”
Boon Hoenes’s face is flashing like a neon sign in my head. “I mean, they’re not bad to look at, but that’s highly inappropriate since I’m a coach and all.”
She gives me a dry look with her palm up at me. “Is a rule against fraternizing in the handbook?”
“I didn’t get a handbook.”
She throws up her hands. “Then fair game, baby. Find yourself a player and have him use his stick in all the right ways.”
“Allison, I am appalled,” I tease, but really, I’m completely jealous of her love life. Before she was with Taco, she was with whoever she wanted, and she enjoyed herself. She’s stunning, though, so it’s easy for her. It’s not like that for me. No one ever wants just me. I’m only a stepping stone to someone better.
She gives me a look. “Posey.”
I look away, but I could look to the moon and she could still read me. That’s the problem with knowing someone your whole life and actually liking them. “What?”
“Posey Rose.”
I look back at her. “What?” I repeat as her eyes search mine. “Don’t middle-name me.”
She ignores my deflection. “Really?”
“Really, what?” I ask incredulously.
“Still?”
“What? What are you asking?” I ask, because surely she won’t ask.
“Are you still a virgin?” Or maybe she will.
I swallow hard as I look into her green eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and slowly shrug my shoulders.
She drops her head to the side. “How? I mean, you’re so beautiful, and you’ve got a banging—”
“I don’t need you to talk me up. What you and I think is totally different from what a man thinks. It’s fine. I’m not the least bit worried about it.”
“Well, that’s a complete lie,” she announces, calling me on my shit. “You are worried about it. It bothers you. It always has. And the thing is, Posey, it’s not you. You chose such shitty dudes.”
“And I have an incredibly stunning sister,” I say, waving my hand. “So, it’s hard on them.”
“That’s absolute bullshit, which goes back to my shitty-dude theory. The right guy will want only you.”
“Please, that person doesn’t exist.”
“I’d choose you,” she says simply, and my heart warms.
“That would really stun our parents.”
Her face lights up as she covers my hand with hers. “You tell everyone else to have confidence and to believe in themselves, when really, you’re the one who needs that advice.”
I look down at our hands. I know she’s right. “Maybe, but my track record says different. Plus, now my virginity is annoying. Like, I wish I would have just banged Maxim and gotten it over with.”
She nods. “But again, shitty dude.”
I shrug. “I guess. I don’t know. Guys just don’t see me like I want them to,” I say, but then I pause. “Except there was a guy earlier. He plays for the Assassins. Boon Hoenes?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I hate hockey and hockey players. Keep going.”
I laugh. “He came at me, saying I don’t like him. And it almost felt like he cared if I liked him as a person. Which makes absolutely no sense because he has a fiancée.”
“But you felt he cared?”
“Yeah. It was weird.”
“You are usually pretty accurate with your gut.”
“If that’s so, then that would mean he’s a cheating bastard like Sir Taco.”
She snorts. “This is true. Bring up his profile.” I open it on Instagram, and she analyzes it. “Posey, he’s single.”
“Huh?”
She points to his bio. “It has the unlocked padlock. He’s single.”
Why does that please me? “Oh, wow.”
“Yeah, you should have flirted with him. Played with his stick,” she says, waggling her brows at me.
I shrug. “I guess I could have flirted with him. That maybe he would have reciprocated the flirt. But why would I? It would be pointless. I wanted to, even if I was giving him a hard time.”
I smile to myself, and she squeezes my hand. “Why would it have been pointless?”
I meet her gaze. “Because his ex was stellar. Perfect, even. Like you.”
She snorts. “Hardly perfect, but thanks. You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re so used to just assuming guys don’t want you, that now that’s your defense. Why put yourself out there when he wouldn’t want you anyway? It’s actually a good defense. Stupid, but good.”