Page 38 of The Score

Chapter 13

Pen

We spend nearly two weeks at my parents', sharing time together and preparing for the wedding. After driving back to the city, things stay busy. I write my resignation letter— it takes several tries and more than a few tears. I also start the paperwork to leave my apartment, and take the first few steps into wedding planning. We're starting with hiring a planner, because there's no way we'll manage this in such a short time otherwise.

Bear helps plenty, but he's busy with secret plans related to my bucket list, so I give him some extra room where I can.

Damián's barbecue should be a reprieve, but nerves swim in my stomach as we enter the house. Some nervous laughter has escaped from me on and off, including now as I drop my bag in the office near the front. It's where everyone usually leaves their stuff. Bear's and my contraband will be safe there.

Barkley darts to us from the backyard. Damián's pet is a fluffy white, furry dog, and I can't help the smile that splits my face. I love dogs. I can't wait until I can have one of my own.

Bear and I take turns playing with the full-grown pup, before we go deeper into the home. It's an airy place, with high ceilings and large windows, bringing in lots of light. Plants liven the modern lines, with paintings and photos on many walls as well. It's a house meant to feel like a family has been living there for a decade, and always welcoming to friends. Meeting here in the offseason is a tradition.

On the way to the terrace outside, we say hello to Dom in the kitchen. Nat gets us beers, while Damián prepares meat and veggies for the barbecue outside.

"Rafa can't make it," Damián says. "He's spending time with his kid."

We all nod. Rafa's priority is his child, especially during the offseason.

Logan and Evie arrive, and Nat brings them to the kitchen as well.

"Sorry we were running late for reasons we can't fully explain," Evie says, petting Barkley.

"We wouldn't have asked." Dom's tone is teasing.

He takes a swig of his bottle, eyes challenging on the newcomers. Bear and I smirk.

Logan ignores him. "Regardless of any other reasons, we needed to stop for this."

He gives two bottles of champagne to Nat, who puts them in the fridge.

"We have lots to tell you guys," Evie says.

We move to the terrace, where an outdoor kitchen and patio wait for us. Damián turns to the barbecue, while the rest of us sit on the sofas and armchairs. Just outside the living area, a large green space is kept simple except for a couple of flowerbeds and a tree. Barkley sprints to a toy left abandoned in the grass, and brings it to Nat's feet. Absent-mindedly, she plays catch with him while chatting with us.

Saint and Ames greet us. I sit next to Bear on a loveseat. Hah.

"So I heard something recently." Evie sips from her drink. "Logan and I came back home after our trip and, as a lowly front office employee—"

"Senior PR Exec isn't lowly," Logan complains.

"— I work standard hours including the offseason," she finishes.

"These guys don't get it," I joke. "Office work, office hours, who left the dirty mug in the sink? What about the container with food rotting in the fridge?"

"They don't," Evie adds, "but I have to admit my job does have some advantages."

"Like having a professional excuse to film us for thirst traps," Logan says.

"For sure," Evie agrees again with a glint in her eye. "But it also lets me hear things about the higher ups before anyone else."

"What did you hear this time?" Ames asks.

"Remember Williamson's machinations last year?" Evie gazes at us with a playful gleam in her eye.

It was thanks to Evie's work in the front office that we learned last season that Williamson, the GM, had been pushing to trade Saint for reasons no one could make sense of.

Ames startles and stares at Saint.