All in on You

Chapter Twenty

I'm positively giddy about the open concept design of Scar's home. From my stool in the kitchen, I have an unobstructed view of the flat screen mounted on her and Keith's living room wall.

"Wow, you would put it on this channel," Scar says as she places the fresh-out-of-the-oven tray of cupcakes onto the granite island.

"Hey, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't. Literally." I plop myself back on the bar stool I've been occupying for the past few hours. As fun as it's been watching Scar bake, I was preoccupied with glancing at my watch. When it hit game time, I moseyed on over to the living room, grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and flipped through the channels until I found what I was looking for.

"Work," Jules says, using those dreaded air quotes. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Right? Good one!" Scar says, gesturing her spatula in Jules' direction in agreement.

Okay, so as much as I have that warm fuzzy feeling that Scar and Jules are getting along so well, why do they have to bond at my expense?

The Saints are finishing up their road trip in Edmonton tonight, so with Keith away, Scar insisted that I finally take her up on her offer to come over and have a baking night. Because she's bubbly and generous, she told me to bring my friends too. Elise and Rebecca already had dates planned with their boyfriends, but Jules was free as the guy she's seeing, Martin, was away visiting family.

I'm starting to regret that she was available to accompany me this evening.

"I'm not sure what that means, and I don't want to know." I squirm in my seat. "Scar, can I help you frost the cupcakes?"

I'm totally changing the subject, but my offer is genuine. I've kind of been useless this evening. Scar is such a well-oiled machine when it comes to baking and Jules was eager to learn. Sitting back and watching them do their thing has been fine by me. I've been feeling distracted anyways.

"They'll need to cool a bit more."

Right. I guess the homemade frosting would slide right off the cupcakes in this state.

"I've never made frosting from scratch before," Jules says, running a small spatula through the pink-dyed sugar concoction. "It's surprisingly easy."

"It took a while to perfect the recipe, but yeah, now it's smooth," Scar winks.

Well, aren't we full of puns tonight.

On the TV, the referee prepares to drop the puck. Finally. Televised hockey games are notorious for starting several minutes after the advertised start time. There's a lot of preamble and comments from commentators and close up shots of various players.

Like right now. The camera is all up in Angelo's business as he takes the starting face off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Scar and Jules exchange a conspiratorial glance. But I forget about it quickly because Angelo is biting his lip in concentration and glancing down at the ice. Heat rushes to my palms and spreads across my stomach.

"Mmm?"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, it's registering that Scar said something, but I honestly couldn't repeat it even if I was offered a million dollars. The game has started and my eyes and ears were glued to the action for Angelo's entire first shift.

Scar sighs dramatically—because is a sigh ever not dramatic?—and leans forward against the counter.

"I said: Harlow, have I ever told you that I slept with Angelo once while Keith and I were on a break?"

Now that, I heard. I turn my head towards Scar so quickly I'm surprised I don't give myself whiplash.

"You did what now?"