Boyfriend Bargain by Ilsa Madden-Mills

36

Sugar

I’m coming out of the library a few days later, and Eric is waiting for me. He texted earlier and asked to see me, and when I told him no, he resorted to sending me every emoji he could type, mostly ones with sweets. He swore he would blow up my phone if I didn’t give him five minutes.

I walk down the marble steps and stop in front of him.

He’s got workout gear on and a Lions cap on top of his wild red hair. His beard is longer than I’ve seen it in a while. I figure he’s coming from a late afternoon workout session. Part of me is giddy to see him because I miss his smiling face and he’s a connection to Z, but the rest of me aches, knowing Z isn’t with him.

I force a big smile. “You look like a grizzly bear. Also, please stop sending me the pie emoji.”

“Nice to see you too, babe.” He swoops down and picks me up for a twirl, and several people stop and stare at us. A few guys call out and two girls run over to say hi. One of them presses her number into his hand, and he tucks it in his jacket pocket, a sly smile on his face.

I shake my head, feeling just…tired. “It just never ends with y’all.”

He gives me a look as we take off toward my dorm. “I’m twenty and male. I like chicks.”

I hold my hand up. “What if you had a girlfriend? Would you take her number then?”

He rears back. “No, of course not. That’s a hard line. I’d be true.”

I nod. “And that’s why we’re friends.”

He grins. “But I don’t have one, so I can do what I want.”

We walk down the busy sidewalk and Eric has his head down, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Want to tell me what this is about?”

He sighs slowly, and I sense he’s searching for the right words. “Um, Z.”

My stomach knots. “Figured as much.”

He looks off into the horizon. “He’s falling apart.”

“What do you mean?” My legs pick up the pace, almost to a jog, most of it nervous energy, afraid Eric is going to say something that will break my heart even more.

He keeps pace with me. “Can you slow down a minute?”

“Nope. I have to get to BB’s.”

He takes my hand and pulls me off the path.

“What?” I glare up at him and he winces.

“Look, I know he hurt you, but he’s…”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking devastated. I don’t know who he is anymore. All he does is run and work out and sleep. He had this huge fight with Reece and they’re walking around like two bulls. He’s surly and bad-tempered and just…I don’t know what to say. I can’t get in his head.”

He scratches at his jaw and looks around, almost as if he’s nervous.

I narrow my gaze. “Did he tell you not to talk to me?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure he meant it.” He blows out a breath. “Never have I seen him so strung out over a girl. He took a hammer to the work table in the garage, and shit, he never does stuff like that.”

I flinch at the image. “He doesn’t really care about me.” I’m not looking at Eric, but I feel his searching look.

“Seriously? Get real. I saw how he looked at you.”

I shake my head. “Funny, because he hasn’t tried to get in touch with me. He knows where I live. He has my phone number.”

“He cares about you.”

Then why is Eric the one here making his case for him? I want to smash something. “So you keep saying,” I snap. “Then why not tell me about her?”

“Maybe he was afraid to lose you.”

“He did lose me.”

He sticks his hands in his pockets. “You wanna know what I think? I think you know he’s crazy about you, and you’re scared.”

I frown. Is that true? I…I don’t know. At first I was afraid for my heart, but after the ice skating lesson, I was in with him. Still, a trickle of doubt drifts in, reminding me of my past, of Bennett and my father and the scared girl who will protect her heart any way she can. I remember the girl who ran away from him at the Kappa party and then at his house after we had sex in his garage.

And, in the end, wasn’t I right?

“You could have listened to him, Sugar. I was there that night, remember? You gave up pretty fast.” He studies my face.

“Thanks, Dr. Eric, but you don’t know everything. And stop eavesdropping on private conversations.”

“You were yelling—kind of hard to not hear it.” Eric closes his eyes. “Fuck, Sugar, I’m afraid he can’t finish the season without you. He’s the most lackluster piece of shit on the ice. He comes to practice, does the minimum, and leaves.”

I don’t like the images he paints in my head and I steel myself against them. “You won the last game—”

“By a hair, and he’s not playing nearly enough. Coach is keeping him on the bench most of the time.”

My hand tightens around my purse strap. “Oh, so I should just ignore his deception so you can finish out your season?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know if that would work. I’m just coming to you as a friend to another friend who I know cares about him.”

I think about him at the fountain with Lola and—

“Everything okay here?”

We flip around and Julia stands a few feet away. It’s late afternoon and she’s ready for her shift at BB’s, although a normal person wouldn’t know just by looking at her bulky coat and joggers. I know because her hair is up in that Barbarella-style ponytail and there’s pink glitter on her eyelids. Bright pink lipstick colors her mouth, and she’s carrying her duffle, where I figure her shoes and extras are.

Next to me, Eric tenses up.

I look from him to Julia, seeing how his eyes run over her and bounce away, color blooming on his cheeks.

“You guys know each other?” I say, my voice oozing shock.

“No,” they say at the same time, both of their faces shuttering.

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me.”

They both ignore me, but I don’t care. There’s an edge to me lately, and I’m wired, ready to snap.

“Well, in that case, Julia, this is Eric, one of Z’s wingers. He calls everyone babe, likes to sing ‘Dick in a Box’, takes phone numbers from randoms, and eats cereal out of the box with his bare hands. Eric, this is Julia. She’s my roommate and if you hurt her, I will kill you slowly with one of your hockey sticks.”

“Oh,” he says, not even looking at me, his gaze on her. “Hi.”

Julia grimaces and stares down at the ground. “Hi.”

A few moments go by and no one says a word, and shit, I’m a little fascinated.

“So, you’re sure you don’t know each other?”

“Sure,” Julia says.

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely,” says Eric at the same time.

A slow blush rises on my roommate’s cheeks as she clears her throat and hooks her arm with mine. “I’m headed to BB’s. You want a ride?”

I won’t actually ride with her because she’ll be working later than me, but I say yes anyway and move away from Eric. I need distance from him.

“Sugar?” he says with a frown.

I look back, seeing the worry on his face, but I know I can’t go to Z. Willow is between us and I can’t…I can’t let that go. I give him a wry smile. “He knows where I am.”

His shoulders rise with a breath.

“I have to get to work, but text me, okay?” I say softly, not wanting to lose that connection, which is counterproductive, but it is what it is.

He gives me a nod, his gaze flickering over to Julia before he turns and walks away.

He gets just out of earshot and I can’t wait any longer.

“You and Eric? You slag.” I feel empty inside but I push out a grin.

“Never happened,” she says as we walk away.

“You lie, but I will get the truth out of you eventually.”

She throws an arm around me.

“This conversation isn’t over, Barbarella.”

She smirks. “I know.”

* * *

“What’s wrong?”Mara asks me a few days later in her office as I file some old invoices in the cabinet.

“Nothing.” I stare down at a receipt from the liquor warehouse and focus on that, ignoring the hole inside me.

“Uh-huh. I hear the Lions won their game yesterday against St. Cloud.”

I file the paperwork and slam the drawer shut. “Nice.” I guess that’s another win for us, and I’m glad. I want Z to succeed.

I feel her eagle eyes on me. “Word is your guy only played the first period.”

“Not my guy, Mara.”

“You only use my name when you’re pissed.”

“I’m not pissed,” I bite out.

She chuckles. “Listen, I know y’all are broken up, but I’ve lived here long enough to know he’s the biggest name to ever play in this state, and when he doesn’t play, something bad is going down.”

She’s prying because she cares, but I feel my defenses coming up. I plop down on the recliner and sip on the vanilla chai tea she made for me earlier.

A few minutes later, I say, “How do you know so much about hockey?”

“Just something I hear the customers say when they’re here.” She gives me a rueful look. “This town loves him. But now, I don’t know. Fans can be fickle, ya know?”

My hackles rise. If anyone bad-talks Z…

“ESPN is saying there’s a rumor he has a mental illness. One reporter claims she saw him break down at one of the away games, but of course, there are no photos to prove it.”

That must have been at Concord State. “Bitch,” I say. “What the hell is wrong with people? Can’t he ever get any peace?” I rub my temples.

“Ah, so you do care.”

I look out the window, my hand clenching my cup.

“I’m worried about you,” she says softly. “Do you want me to make you a lemon icebox pie?”

I blink rapidly. She knows the way to my heart.

“Sugar, I know you haven’t told me everything, but if you need to talk to me, I’m here. I’m not your mama and we’re not blood, but you’re mine by choice and I have no regrets. Nothing you tell me will shock me.”

I stare at her, taking in the big blonde hair and faded pink lipstick. I love her more than anything and she is my family. I don’t know why I haven’t told her what happened except that maybe part of me is embarrassed that he fooled me. I sigh. “He blames himself for his dead girlfriend’s car wreck, and I found a photo of her and…well, we look very similar…” I can’t go on. I don’t even want to think about the letter.

Mara fires up a cig and blows out smoke. “I see. A doppelgänger situation. Sounds like a good HBO movie.”

I huff out a laugh and several moments go by. I feel her thinking, assessing the situation.

“When you were with him, how did you feel?”

“Feel? God, I would have burned the whole world down to be with him, and I thought…I thought he was right there with me.”

She takes another toke. “You say you look like her, and I can’t answer for Z, but I know you can’t fake real emotion. Those cracks always come through when something isn’t true. Your heart knows.”

My heart doesn’t know shit. It’s dead. Empty. I never knew a person could reach this level of…nothingness.

I run my fingers over the rim of the cup, and she sighs from her seat, moving on. “Speaking of breakups, I remember when Clint broke my heart. One night in Vegas and he was off with the wind, but he was upfront about it.”

I sip my tea. She always knows how to make me smile. “Give me his digits and I’ll ring him up. I could use some rebound sex.”

Her eyes flare and I have to laugh.

Julia waltzes in the door dressed in a new sparkly gold corset and booty shorts. She must have heard my comment because she looks straight at me. “That’s true. We really need to get you back in the saddle, my friend.”

“Doesn’t work for me,” I say.

Her hands are on her hips. “And I have the perfect guy—this dude named Dallas who mentioned to me he was in your poetry class. Apparently he saw us talking to Eric and he sent me a text.”

Wow. “He’s quite persistent.”

“Tenacious, which you happen to go for. Plus, he’s hot,” she says.

“Nah.” I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you need to go shake some ass, Barbarella?”

She snorts. “Mama does need some dollars, but don’t try your passive aggressive shit with me. I’m not giving up stripping, no matter how many jokes you make.”

I arch a brow. “Meow. Someone’s sensitive tonight.” I tap my chin. “Could a certain hockey player be the reason? Oh, wait, you don’t know him. Riiight.”

She puffs up. “I’m on a break right now, thank you, and you are not the boss of me. Isn’t that right, Mara?”

Mara smokes her cig, looking at us with a smile on her face. “Oh, she is honey. After me, that is.”

I laugh just as Mara’s office phone rings. She speaks to the person and then waves it at me, her eyes big. “It’s Mr. Winchester from Birmingham for you.”

I motion to her that I don’t want to talk to him. He’s been calling my cell for over a week and I’m avoiding him.

She gives me an exasperated look when she hands it over. “Take it.”

Fine.

I put it up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Miss Ryan?” His tone is dry and wintry and utterly professional. I picture the tall and lanky man who came here in January to tell me my father was dead. “Finally.”

I pace around the room, holding the phone tight. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to confirm that you’ll be in Davenport for the reading of the will. It’s in two weeks.”

My chest constricts. Of course I know when it is. I have it saved in my phone and Mara has it circled on her desk calendar. “I will not.”

There’s a long silence from him and then his voice softens. “Before you make up your mind, I want you to know there is no animosity toward you here.”

I huff out a laugh. “I find that hard to believe with the way my father cheated on their mother for years.”

He seems to take a breath. “I hope you change your mind. It might…do you some good to come back and see where you came from.”

“Please don’t assume you know what’s good for me. I don’t take well to condescension, Mr. Winchester.”

“I apologize.” He continues, clearing his throat. “I conveyed your waitlist situation to Mrs. Mitchell, and she’s sent in a letter of recommendation for you.”

My hands grip the phone, and Mara reaches over and pushes the speaker button. It’s killing her that she can’t hear what he’s saying. “My name isn’t Mitchell. It never was. And what does she know about me? How can she write a letter?”

The line is quiet as he shuffles papers.

“Does she feel sorry for me?” The thought pisses me off.

Mr. Winchester sighs. “I don’t know. It’s common for former alumni to send in letters of recommendation.”

“But if you had to guess, Mr. Winchester, why would she do it?”

There are a tense few ticks of silence. “Who knows the matters of the heart, but perhaps she sees a young girl who never got the chance her own kids did.”

A sweat breaks out on my skin.

“Will you come?”

Mara is waving her hands at me, mouthing, “YES, YES, YES.”

I close my eyes and push out the words. “I’ll let you know.”