Trent brought a date! He brought a date to a camp social gathering. That was serious.

Right? Right. I felt it was.

Owen leaned forward from the other side of Hadley. He and Sophia had somehow become the appointed hosts of the group.

“Hey.” Grant raised his voice. “Are we going straight to the game or swinging back to Charlie’s? What’s the plan?”

Trent looked back at me. “We have time to drop our stuff off? Maybe clean up a little?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess it depends on how long we want to wait for concessions, but yeah, we have time.”

It was an hour before the game. There was plenty of time.

“I’d like to wash up a little, maybe not leave our suitcases at the arena, you know?”

“Say no more.” Grant flipped on the turn signal, veering toward the next exit for my apartment.

My phone buzzed.

Reese: You wearing my jersey?

Me: Coyotes.

Reese: I’m calling to take away your ticket—just yours. Not your friends’.

I bit the inside of my cheeks. Every time my phone buzzed, I knew everyone was wondering if it was Reese or someone else.

I loved that Trent had brought Lauren, but I was highly uncomfortable. We were going to Reese’s game. I was wearing his jersey—one I’d bought that he didn’t know I’d bought—and we were using his tickets for the game. Janet couldn’t get tickets anywhere near where we were sitting, and I was already feeling that pressure. Reese was doing dinner with us, and my friends were in town for the whole weekend, but I wanted tonight with Reese.

I just didn’t know how to maneuver all of those moving pieces.

Maybe it was unrealistic, but I didn’t want Janet to know about him or Lauren to spill the beans, if she found out too. And I didn’t know if Trent had told her where he got the tickets or not.

And then part of me felt I was stressing too much. I should just let it all lay how it was going to lay, but I was coming off quite a few years where I hadn’t told anyone what was going on with me.

Habits were hard to break.

People knowing my business gave them reason to form opinions, spread gossip. I was sweating just thinking of all the talk that’d rip through the group about Reese and me.

“Hey.” Hadley leaned close. “No stressing, okay? We all took a pact. No one will say a word.”

I loved her. I truly loved her.

My chest felt lighter.

“What about dinner? How do we do that?”

She gave an easygoing shrug. “We’ll figure it out. We’re prepared to handle Janet for you. Don’t worry. If you want him to come with us, he’s welcome. If you want to have your time with him, just give me a wink and a motion and I’ll cover. It’s really no problem. Are you staying with him tonight?”

I glanced up at Trent, half-turned to face Lauren, and he glanced back.

“You can just give me an extra key,” he said. “We can work it out. If you want to sneak in, I’ll make sure Lauren and I are in the guest room. We can do this. I mean, we understand.”

My face felt flushed. “We’re not even…” Yeah. How did I have that conversation with them? “We’re just friends.”

Trent smirked.

Hadley snorted. “Right. No boning there.”

“Hadley!”

“We might work at a camp, but we’re not backward hicks or something. I do have three children.”

The back of my neck was sweating. “This is just a lot to handle. I’m used to being a hermit and taking care of someone who some days remembered me and other days didn’t.”

My second reference to Damian.

They were coming easier and easier.

My therapist would be so proud, and I waited, but the instant, white-hot panic that always hit me after I mentioned Damian didn’t come.

It was getting easier.

Reese: Easter egg request?

It was like he knew me. Finally, finally.

Me: Sexy librarian look. I want the glasses.

Reese: You serious?

Me: Absolutely. You’ll get banged tonight if you do.

Reese: Not to be cocky, but I’m going to bang anyways.

Reese: K. Gotta go. Head to the players’ exit when you’re done. Or I’ll check my phone once we’re done. Think Juan wants to do dinner with us.

Me: Us?

Reese: Whoever. Are we doing your friends too? Or just you, me, and Juan. I don’t care.

Reese: Or I can tell Juan to do his own thing. You decide.

It was all up to me. What a disconcerting thought.

I didn’t text him back. The game, then the players’ exit after that.

But one thought was seeming more and more appealing: There was beer at the concession stands.

I loved going to basketball games. Like, loved loved, obsessed-over loved, and I was such a sports fanatic that it wasn’t just basketball games. Football, hockey, baseball—men’s, women’s, kids. I didn’t care. I’d go to a fifth-grade football game if I were invited. I couldn’t explain why, but it never mattered.

As soon as I got to my seat and got comfortable, I was ready to go.

An excited buzz started to build as we entered the arena, and once we got to our seats, I felt ready to explode. Nerves. Excitement. Anxiety. All of it had rolled together, and I felt like I was bouncing inside of myself, only being held together because of my skin.