Page 2 of The Replay

"She told me the same thing." Pen snuggles closer to Bear. "It's Cora and Mariana, plus an older sister who lives in the UK, two brothers up in Canada, and a third brother in the US as well. I think Cora's trying hard to make a life for herself here, which I respect."

"Yeah, and I think Mariana has high hopes for her year with the Strike too." Evie glances at me. "I haven't wanted to look much into it… yet… but the rumor is that the Sinclairs are a complicated family. Dad is British and a heavyweight in the entertainment world, while Mom comes from world-known Latinamerican diplomats. These days, they're primarily based in North America but have businesses and projects in Europe too."

Her eyes don't leave me. I stare right back, determined to match her.

"Apparently," Pen says, "coming to the Strike is Cora's and Mariana's way to step away from their parents' world. There must be a story there, right? Beyond Mariana's recent divorce. All I know is Mariana has always done philanthropicwork, but this is the first time she’s worked for a for-profit corporation as a standard-issue employee."

Evie smirks. "Is it possible to be a standard-issue employee for the team, when your dad owns one of the three major sports networks?"

"What?!" Nat exclaims.

Everyone turns to Evie, but she's locked in a staring contest with me. She knows this is old news to me, of course. All my friends know about my past with Mariana. They learned about it when we met Cora at the team's ring ceremony. I know them, and I know they've been keeping an eye on Mariana and me, waiting to see where things go between us. But they don't have any details, and Evie's reveal about the Sinclairs comes as a shock.

All at once, our friends catch on to the way we look at each other. The group turns to me, echoing a fake tennis match between Evie and I.

She leans in. It's a challenge. I raise an eyebrow. She smirks. I cross my arms.

"Stop that." I stare at each of them in the eye. "I'm not going to fill in the blanks for you all."

"Stop what?" Evie tells me with fake confusion. "No one has said anything."

Logan chuckles.

I roll my eyes. "I'm going to grab a drink. You can discuss whether I care about Mariana working for the Strike to your hearts' content while I'm gone. Hint— I don't."

"But the whole point is to see your reaction," Saint says. "How are we supposed to know if that's true otherwise?"

I wink at him. "You'll have to live with the doubt."

They laugh. I shake my head at them, ignore them all, and go to the kitchen.

At first glance, it appears empty. A big, white room with what seems like endless storage space. I don't get to take in all the details. As soon as I approach the fridge, I notice the plush, generous ass of someone bending over next to a nearby lower cupboard.

I blink a few times. The plump, indulgent shape stops me in my tracks.

Mariana.

I may not have seen her in six years— bending over or otherwise— but my brain did the math and it's fully certain.

My heart leaps. My pulse skyrockets. I grind my teeth, and remind myself I must feel nothing. I planned for this moment. Nonchalance is the goal. Credible detachment. Like the fact we were once hopelessly in love has no bearing on us today. But I didn't expect it to happen quite like this.

I cross my arms. "I wasn't sure you'd be here… and now this."

"Oh my God!"

She straightens and turns around in a single, fluid move. Her large, brown eyes stare at me. She dresses with a more elegant style than she did back then, in wide dark tan trousers and a lavender blouse that criss-crosses at the front. Her lips are unpainted, but her eyeliner is sharp in a way I’ve never seen before. Her dark, straight hair brushes her shoulders— it's not a waterfall down her back like it was in college. Though it's just as shiny. My fingertips itch to touch it again, and check if it's as soft as I remember.

Heartbreakingly beautiful, with an edge honed by time I didn't expect. It fits her.

But I force a neutral line to my mouth. I bring my shoulders down to a relaxed position. Like I'm full of apathy. As if knowing that our roads might cross again didn't have me losing interest in dating altogether. Not for any delusions of what could happen between us. Never that. I won't put my heart on the chopping block, to be torn apart again and again by the same person. My mom taught me well, after my dad left. After she cared for me alone with my abuela, including that year after things ended with Mariana. The one thing no one can take away is my pride.

I fist my hands, hidden against my torso. I will not give in to the impulse and touch her. Instead, I give her a small, detached smile. Until I notice the wooden board she grips in front of her. The kind someone uses for charcuterie displays. Only it's shaped like a dick.

And damn my heart, but it responds to the view despite my intentions, and I laugh.

Chapter 2

Mariana