Trivial Pursuits (Chicago On Ice Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 22

TriviaPlayOrPass!

How many colors are in a rainbow?

As soon as Collins opens the door, I can see she’s barely holding it together. Her eyes are brimming with tears, and she’s deathly pale.

“Hey, come in,” Collins says, her voice thick. “I just need to put my coat on.”

I step into the foyer, one familiar to me as my own. Collins has lived in the same house since I’ve known her. Collins walks across the Oriental hall carpet, to the closet, and opens the door.

“Is that you, Livy?” her mother asks, coming down the hallway. “How are you?”

I pause for a moment. Collins’ mother, Victoria, is always sunshine and roses. Now I know why Collins needed to get out. Her mother doesn’t deal with any emotion other than happy because she doesn’t acknowledge any other feeling can exist.

“I’m fine,” I say, nodding. But unlike her, I’m going to acknowledge that Collins needs support. “I’m glad to spend time with Collins tonight,” I say seriously. “I know the past week has been hard.”

“Oh, I hope you can get Collins to turn that frown upside down,” Victoria says breezily, oblivious to her own daughter’s torment. “Because a sad Collins is no fun.”

Fun?
Anger builds in me. This isn’t about Victoria being in her world of sparkles and unicorns and all seven colors of the rainbow. It’s about
Collins.

“I’m trying, Mom,” Collins says bravely, sliding into her coat and putting a sad smile on her face. “I promise I am.”

I don’t need Landon to tell me my nose has a crease in it. Collins shouldn’t have to apologize to her Mom for not being happy. She just went through a gut-wrenching decision to end a relationship that was headed toward marriage. Collins has every right to be upset.

“Good. I hope you come home in a better mood,” Victoria says. “Because no Debby Downers are allowed in this house.”

I need to get Collins out of here. Now.

I spot her bag next to the antique Queen Anne table in the foyer. I quickly walk over and pick it up.

“Ready, Collins?” I say firmly.

I see gratitude flash in her toffee-colored eyes.

“Yes,” she says. “Bye, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

“With a sparkling smile, I hope,” Victoria calls out as Collins heads toward the door.

Oooooooooooooooh, I hate how Victoria messes Collins up like this. I need to get her back to my house. Where we can talk and Collins can cry if she wants.

Because I have no doubt she has done nothing but repress all her feelings this past week at home.

We say goodbye and head down the sidewalk to my SUV. I toss her bag into the backseat, and we both get inside the Jeep.

The second the doors are shut, I turn to her. “That’s bullshit about not crying. You
need
to cry, Collins.”

Collins stares down at her hands while I turn the key in the ignition.

“There are bigger problems in the world than mine,” Collins says softly. “I’m healthy. I have a job. I—”

“Stop it!” I interrupt. “Collins, you’re a human being with real emotions. You have every right to be sad!”

“But I wanted this break-up,” Collins protests.

I turn to her. “That doesn’t matter,” I say firmly. “It still hurts.”

She bites down hard on her lower lip. I can see the wall is about to come down.

“First Gabe bombarded me with poetry about unrequited love,” Collins says softly. “When that didn’t work, he started getting angry. Gabe sent me some awful texts before I called you,” she admits, her voice shaking. “About me. Things mutual friends were saying.”

I take a deep breath to try and remain calm. “What did he say?”

“I can’t repeat them,” Collins manages to get out. She reaches into her purse, retrieves her phone, and I notice her hands are shaking as she tries to swipe the screen.

Then she hands me the phone. I glance down at a string of angry, abusive texts from Gabe:

Everyone thinks you’re a bitch. But you probably don’t care.

How could you lead me on like this? I FUCKING LOVED YOU.

Becca and Allie think you’re a bitch, did you know that? That’s why they unconnected from you on Connectivity. They said you led me on for YEARS. You’re a horrible, horrible person.

Four years. How can you throw away four fucking years, Collins?

Allie said I was your back-up plan the whole time. Maybe now you want a hockey player like Livy.

Becca said you’re bipolar.

“I’ve seen enough,” I say calmly, my voice betraying the rage that I feel inside. I hand the phone back to Collins. “It’s one thing to be heartbroken. It’s another to be a verbally abusive manipulator. You block him right now.”

“I did this to him,” Collins says, the tears now brimming in her eyes. “I drove him to this.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t do what he wanted, and that was stay with him even if you didn’t love him,” I say, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “You can’t please him, or these bitch girls, no matter what you do now. And you shouldn’t
want
to please any of them. You did the right thing. You’ve been quiet about the whole situation and respectful of what you had with Gabe. You can’t control what they say, so please, please, I beg you, don’t obsess over it. They can all go fuck off, Collins.”

Suddenly I see the wall fall down. Collins leans into me, sobbing, and I fight back my own tears as I hug her.

“You’re one of my best friends, and I’m proud to call you that,” I whisper into her ear. “You’re a good person. And the people who know you and truly love you are on your side, I promise.”

I stroke her hair as she cries, and I have a feeling this is one of the few times she’s let down her guard. Lord knows she couldn’t do it with the ‘sun is always shining’ Victoria around.

She lets it all out. Finally, she pulls back from me. “I think I snotted on your coat,” she admits, looking embarrassed.

“What’s a little snot when it comes from your oldest friend?” I say cheerfully.

She opens her purse, and as she pulls out her tissue pack, my cell rings. I glance down and see it’s Nana.

I pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Livy, are you girls coming soon? Your mother refuses to open the wine until you are back. She’s such a buzzkill.”

I laugh. “Yes, Nana, we’re on our way. And break open two bottles, because Gabe is being a complete asshole to Collins.”

I know Nana doesn’t mind swear words, so I feel okay using that one with her in regards to Gabe.

“Oh, let me guess, playing the bitter ex card? Been there. Tell Collins I’ll plan on whiskey shots after dinner then.” She laughs before hanging up.

I love my nana so much. I turn to Collins and smile. “Nana wants to do whiskey shots after dinner.”

For the first time, I see a genuine smile spread across her face. “You have the best grandma in the whole world, Livy.”

“I do,” I say, putting the car into drive and heading out onto the street. “I’m blessed to have her as my nana.”

As I drive, my mind drifts to Landon.
I’m blessed to have found him and fallen in love with him, too.

And I can’t wait to talk to the man I love after the game tonight.

“Have we waited long enough for shots yet?” Nana asks impatiently.

I laugh when I see the mischievous smile pass over her face. It’s been a good evening, and somehow, I don’t think Nana is going to let Collins escape without doing a shot of whiskey before we go to bed.

I brought Collins home to Nana and my mom, who immediately wrapped her in love. They let her cry, gave words of wisdom, and made her laugh. When Dad got home, we all sat down to a home-cooked pot roast, mashed potatoes, cauliflower puree, and red wine. It was perfect, comforting and nurturing, and I think it helped Collins turn the corner tonight.

We watched the Buffaloes game in the den, and Collins apologized profusely when she realized that’s where I would normally be, but I reassured her I
was
where I wanted to be—with my friend. I have my phone next to me, as I know Landon will call soon, but in the meantime, we’re hanging out and talking. The tears have stopped. Gabe has been blocked.

And now Nana wants shots.

“I had a pancake shot once at Purdue,” Collins says, tucking a lock of her long, brown hair behind one ear. “That is the only shot I’ve had that I could stomach. It really tastes like a pancake with syrup.”

“I need this in my life,” Nana declares, sitting up straight in the recliner chair.

“Mom, you sound like Livy when you say that,” Mom declares, laughing.

“If I sounded like Livy I’d be saying I want more of Landy’s cute butt in my life, not a pancake shot,” Nana says giving me a wink.

Gahhhhhh!

“On that note, I’m going to go read,” Dad says, shaking his head as he gets out of this chair. “Livy, I’m counting on you to keep these three out of trouble. Especially Nana,” he adds, grinning at me. “Keep an eye on her.”

“Oh, Dave,” Nana says, playfully rolling her eyes. Then a teasing smile passes over her face. “You’re so right about that.”

And we all crack up again.

“Are we really doing shots?” Mom asks, incredulous. “I haven’t done one in twenty years!”

“How are you my daughter?” Nana asks.

“What, are you doing them at your weekly canasta game?” Mom asks.

Hmmm. I wouldn’t put that past Nana at all.

Suddenly my phone rings.

“Oooh, it’s hot buns!” Nana cries.

Collins bursts out laughing. “Nana, will you adopt me?”

“I already have,” Nana says, reaching for Collins’ hand and giving it a squeeze.

I grab my phone off the coffee table, and it is indeed Landon. My heart dances the second I see his name on the screen.

“Oh, it is, look at her face,” Mom cries, her eyes twinkling in delight. “That’s Landy love right there.”

“Or
lust,
” Nana counters.

“Stop it,” I say firmly. Then I accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, my little Kale Chip,” Landon says playfully. “What are you doing?”

Oh, I’m so in love with him.

I stand up and move toward the bookcase in the corner of the room for a smidge of privacy. “I’m hanging out with Collins and Nana and Mom. I watched the game. You were great, Babe,” I say, not caring who hears. “I’m glad you held on for the win.”

“Yeah, me too,” Landon says. “I’ll tell you more about it from the hotel.”

I hear voices all around him, echoing, and it sounds like he’s in the corridor.

“I missed seeing you tonight,” Landon says.

“I missed you, too,” I say softly.

“How is Coll—” Landon stops, and I can hear a female voice talking to him. “Hey, Kayla, I’m talking to Livy,” Landon interrupts. “I’ll see you next week.”

My stomach tightens the second I hear her name. I instantly remember watching Kayla talking to him, how she touched Landon’s arm, the way her eyes narrowed when she met me. How she calls him and gets him to listen to her as an excuse to get closer . . .

“Trouble.”

“Sorry about that, Sweetheart,” Landon says, breaking into the warning playing in my head. “Anyway, how is Collins?”

I shove down my thoughts about Kayla. This wasn’t the time to talk about them, but what would I say if I did bring it up? I’d seem like an insecure, crazy girlfriend.

I know what I have. I trust Landon with every inch of my heart and soul.

And in the end, that’s all that matters.

“Oh, I’m about to watch Collins and Nana do shots,” I say easily, as if everyone’s nana does shots with their friends.

Landon bursts out laughing. “
What?
Put your phone on speaker.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” I say, laughing. “I don’t trust them!”

Because they will tell you I love you
.

“Come on, do it,” Landon urges. “I want to talk to them.”

I decide I love the fact that he wants to talk to my crazy family and my closest friend, and that outweighs the risk of anything embarrassing that might happen.

“Okay,” I say, laughing. I move back to the center of the room toward my mom, Nana, and Collins. “Landon wants to talk to you guys,” I say, putting the phone on speaker. “Landon, we’re here.”

“Hi, Landy!” Mom says cheerfully as she opens the bottle of Jack Daniels. “Congratulations on the win tonight.”

“Thank you,” Landon says. “We hung on. Getting ready to go to Canada now.”

“Well, have a good trip,” Mom says, smiling at the phone. “And please come over when you get back for dinner. I’ll make lasagna.”

A few days ago, I freaked at the mere idea of this invitation.

But now it feels
right.

“I will take you up on that, Mrs. Adams,” Landon says. Happiness washes over me, because I know he means it. He’s making the people that are important to me a part of his world. “Hey, Collins. How are you?”

Collins stares at the phone, as if she almost can’t believe a famous hockey player is talking to her.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” she says, shooting me an awe-inspired look. Then she mouths, “Landy Holder!”

“How are you holding up?” Landon asks. “Hold on. Yeah, be right there. Sorry about that. I’m going to have to run in a minute. But are you okay?”

My drop the gloves, badass, tattooed-sleeved defenseman is such a good man. And even when I think I’ve totally fallen in love with him, he finds a way to make me fall a little bit more.