But that wasn’t what she wanted.

He shoved off his jeans, pulled off his T-shirt, and climbed into bed in his boxers.

Weirdly, this stung more than when Marissa had dumped him. Because he wasn’t romantic enough. Was that what the problem with Lovey was? Not enough romance?

There’d been no romance. There’d been a lot of hot, furtive sex. Hanging out in the condo, cooking meals, watching movies, out with big groups of people after games. There’d been that night at Fowler…the dinner before had kinda felt like a date, but…that had been far from romantic.

He was such a fucking loser. How could he think there was something between them when they’d never even been on a fucking date? He lifted an arm and drilled a fist into the mattress, then lifted it and covered his eyes with his forearm. Tabernak de tabernak!

—

His pissy mood served him well on their road trip. Friday night, he was slamming guys into the boards at every opportunity. He enjoyed every check that shuddered through his own body. The slap shot that vibrated up his arms felt good, and felt even better when it rocketed past the Wild goalie and bulged the twine. He set the tone for the game, physical and grinding, and ultimately a four-two win.

After, aching and throbbing all over, he questioned his sanity, but fuck, it had felt damn fine and had been worth it to see the other guys jump onboard and play their guts out. Everyone was in high spirits afterward, music blasting in the dressing room and lots of backslapping. He rode the bike for a while to cool down. When a bunch of guys were going out after, he debated just returning to his hotel room, but then decided he needed to put on a game face and be part of his team.

So he dressed in his suit and tie and they walked the few blocks from the arena to some big nightclub. With pulsing lights and driving music, surrounded by puck bunnies and beer, he tried to forget that he was miserable.

It didn’t totally work.

He knew better than to compensate with booze and hot chicks, and dragged Army back to the hotel in a taxi shortly after midnight. Too bad Army started talking about Lovey.

“So? Did you talk to her?” he asked. “What’s happening?”

Marc looked out the side window. “Yeah. We talked. Sort of.”

“And?”

“Apparently I was wrong.” He rubbed his jaw, still not looking at Army. “She doesn’t feel the same. So…we’re done.”

Army was silent for few moments, then said, “Really?”

“Yup. Really. We were supposed to go out last night. She stood me up and took Jillian with her. Then when she got home she said it had all been a big mistake.”

He could feel waves of tension coming off Army, so he turned to look at him, wondering if he should brace himself for getting punched again. Instead, Army looked…sympathetic.

“Shit, man,” his friend said quietly. “You really in love with her?”

“Ah, doesn’t matter.” He didn’t want to be stripped bare, naked and shivering in the dark, everyone feeling sorry for him. “Whatever.”

“Christ,” Army muttered. “I was worried about her…should’ve been worried about you. Should’ve known you’re not the type to fuck someone over. But she is.”

“No, she’s not,” Marc said sharply. “She’s just…I don’t know. She’s not a bad person.” He sighed. Maybe this was what Lovey was like, playing around with guys and then dumping them for no good reason. Maybe he should’ve listened to Duncan. “I guess I screwed up, thinking it was more than it was. I didn’t do anything to…to wine her and dine her…how would she know it wasn’t more than just screwing around?”

“Wine her and dine her?” Army lifted an eyebrow.

Marc shrugged. “Apparently chicks like that. Marissa said I wasn’t romantic enough.”

“Huh. Well. Maybe you could still do that.”

Marc eyed his friend sourly. “Now you’re all in favor of this?”

Army made a face. “Hate seeing you all busted up over her.”

“I’m not,” he snapped. “It’s…whatever.”

“The more you say ‘whatever’ the more I know it’s not ‘whatever.’ ”

“Fuck off.”

Army actually laughed. “Oh man.” Then he sighed. “Go home and ask her out on a date. With my blessing.”

“She doesn’t want to date me.”

“How do you know? You don’t know until you ask.”

“Not a big fan of setting myself up for rejection.”

“I get that. But come on…how much worse can it be? And…is she worth it?”

Marc rolled his eyes and turned away again, watching city lights slide by. The taxi pulled up at the front door of the hotel and bellhops jumped up to open their doors. Marc handed some bills over to the driver. “Keep the change.”

He and Army used to be roommates on the road too, sharing hotel rooms, but that was no longer required and they had their own rooms. Alone, Marc turned on the TV and found ESPN.

Did Armdog really now approve of him and Lovey being together? That was pretty damn ironic, considering.

Was she worth it?

He kept thinking about that, over and over. He was afraid of the answer. He was afraid that if he thought about all the reasons she was worth it, he might as well just stab a knife into his heart and twist it.

—

Which was pretty much how he felt when he arrived home on Sunday to find the condo empty.

She’d moved out.

He sensed the emptiness when he and Army walked in. He slowly walked down the hall to her bedroom, and sure enough…empty. Cleaned right out. He couldn’t believe it.

He returned to the main room. “She’s gone,” he told Army.

Army frowned.

“Lovey. She moved out. All her stuff is gone.”

“The fuck. Seriously?” And he had to go look too. “Well, shit.”

“You wanted her gone, Armdog.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shit. I’ll call her.”

Marc nodded. Better him. He listened while Army talked to her, not getting much out of the one-sided conversation. Then Army related more to him. “She got them to let her move in early in exchange for painting the apartment. She hired some moving company to take her stuff yesterday and the rest of her things from storage are coming from Madison tomorrow.”

Marc lifted his chin. “She say why?”

It was because of him. Because they’d messed up and made things weird and awkward and she had to leave.

“She just said she wanted to get on with it.”

Move on. Sure.

“It’s probably better,” Marc said quietly. “Sorry about this, man. Should never have happened. You should go see her and make sure things are okay with you two.”

Army scratched his scruffy cheek. “I guess. I wanna see this place. Hopefully it’s not a dive. I’ll go over later and see if she needs anything.”

“Yeah. Good.”

“Man, I’m sorry she did this to you.” Army grimaced. “She’s such a fuckin’ flake.”

Again Marc found himself feeling defensive of Lovey, even though it appeared Army was totally right. He carried his duffel bag to his room to unpack. Instead he ended up lying on his back on the bed, hands behind his head, staring into space for who knew how long.

—

“Seems decent.” Duncan looked around Lovey’s studio apartment. “A little on the empty side right now.”

“The stupid thing is, I have more furniture than I need. There’s no room for a bed and a sofa in this space.”

Her studio apartment combined living room and bedroom. She needed a sofa bed or a futon or something.

“It’s pretty tiny,” he agreed. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch for a while. Maybe just prop my bed up against a wall to get it out of the way, until I can sell it and the couch. Maybe I can get a few bucks for them and buy a futon.”

“Jesus, Lovey.”

“What?” She set her hands on her hips. “You wanted me to move out on my own. What’s wrong?”

His lips compressed. “I don’t know. I just didn’t think…”

“This is me being a responsible grown-up. This is what I can afford until I start bringing in more money. I don’t mind living like this for a while. It won’t be forever.” She raised her chin. “I’m going to make a success of my business.”