Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(47)

“Does he ever talk about the people he spent time with when he lived in Philly?”

I think about that for a moment. “Not really.”

“Not at all,” BJ corrects. “But when he moved, he stayed in contact with you, and me to some extent, but not to the same degree. And when you guys were applying to colleges, he’s the one who started the group chat, making sure you were both applying here. You’ve never been his default friend, Mav. He doesn’t operate that way. He either is or he isn’t. He doesn’t have an in-between. I know it has to be awkward as fuck for you to figure out where the new lines are in your friendship, but consider how it’s been for him—never wanting to let you down and afraid he’s going to fuck this up and lose not only his soul mate, but possibly his best friend too.”

“He’s never around anymore, and when he is, he’s with Lavender,” I argue. “I’ve tried to make plans with him, but it’s like I’m an afterthought now. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. Like outside of hockey, I’m irrelevant.”

BJ leans back in his chair and laces his hands behind his head with a nod. “This is not me saying you don’t have a right to feel the way you do. But I think you’ve also taken a big step back, consciously or not. Maybe to give them room to do their thing, or maybe to protect yourself because subconsciously you expect him to pick her over your friendship.”

I scrub my hands over my face—carefully. It still kind of hurts. “Yeah, maybe you have a point. But the make-out sessions on the living room couch are more than I can deal with, regardless.”

“That’s fair. But also infrequent. And I bet Kody is struggling as much as you are with how this all should work. Just talk to him about it, man. You’ve been friends since before you were born. There’s a balance here. You just need to find it.”

“Have you ever considered becoming a therapist?”

BJ pops another piece of cereal in his mouth and chews before answering. “That’s not my path right now. That’s not to say it won’t be eventually, but I have other things I need to do first.”

“Such as?”

“Do what my mom wasn’t able to.”

Aunt Lily, BJ’s mom, taught figure skating for as long as I could remember, but now she helps organize the schedules and takes her teams to competitions. “You want to be a professional figure skater?”

“I want to make it to the Olympics, like she almost did.”

“Whoa, shit. Aunt Lily almost made it to the Olympics? Why didn’t I know this?” My aunt Lily and my mom are half-sisters. They found that piece of information out when my Gigi drunk-blabbed about her one-night stand with a hockey player, who also happened to have a one-night stand with Aunt Lily’s mom. It’s a whole lot of six degrees of separation.

He taps his fingers on the table. “Most people don’t talk about the dreams they don’t achieve. She should have gone, but you know how expensive that shit is. The dream was right there, at her fingertips, and our loser, deadbeat grandfather wouldn’t help out, so it slipped through her fingers. If she can’t live the dream, I can do my damnedest to do it for her.”

“What about what you want?”

“It is what I want.”

“But you said you were doing it for your mom.”

“I love skating, so it’s not that hard to shift my goals around and put this one at the top of the list. I’ve got the rest of my life to do whatever the hell else I feel like.”

“You could have gone the professional hockey player route, if you wanted.” He plays pickup with us in the backyard all the time. He’s good. Really good.

“But then I’d be in the same predicament as you and Kody. I like hockey, and maybe if I’d put my focus there instead of on figure skating, I could have been good enough to go pro, maybe not. But trying to make it to the Olympics? Sure, there’s pressure, but it’s not the same. My mom didn’t get to go, so even if I don’t either, I’ll still know I tried. But if I do, well, that’s the accomplishment, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I can see the logic in that, I guess. Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I’m doing.”

“We all wonder that, Mav. And you’ve got some big shoes to fill. You and Kody are part of the reason I went the other direction. It’s a lot of pressure to live up to an idea someone already has of you.”

“Being an Olympic athlete is no less pressure.”

“But a different kind. And I’m not trying for gold. I’m just trying to make it to the trials. And if I don’t, that’s okay, because my goal is trying. Anyway, back to what’s important. When you first walked through the door, you seemed angry, and you weren’t throwing out that vibe when you left this morning.”

“How the fuck can you pick up on my vibe when you were asleep before I left?”

“I heard you rummaging around in the kitchen. You grabbed a granola bar. Actually, you grabbed three—ate two in the kitchen and stuffed one in your pocket. Then you took the garbage to the curb. And I know you were throwing out a different vibe because you were whistling, like you were looking forward to something.”

“Yeah, well, that changed.” I rub the space between my eyes.

“Your booty call didn’t answer the door?” He smirks.