Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(131)

“Thank you,” I say as I take the pen from him and write down my name, number, and email address. I’m almost tempted to toss in Ross’s number too in case he can’t get ahold of me, but I think better of it.

“I’ll walk you out,” JP says, guiding me toward the elevator.

“Thank you,” I say again. And for the first time since I read the article, I feel a sliver of hope that maybe something will go right for me. I’ve lost Silas for good, I know that. And even though I thought living in Canada was my future, it might be LA where I end up. That’s better than going home and seeing the disappointment in my father’s eyes.





“It’s been a week,” I say as I sit on Ross’s bed while he streams the game. “I was sure I’d hear something from him by the end of last week. But nothing.”

“He helps run a billion-dollar enter—get the puck!” he yells. “Yes, go, fucking go.” My eyes fall to the computer on Ross’s lap, and I catch sight of Silas screaming across the ice, his hockey stick out in front of him, sprinting toward the puck. He collides into the boards, but somehow kicks the puck with his skate toward Rivers. Rivers brings it around the goalie’s net and passes it to Holmes, and within a blink of an eye, Holmes shoots the puck in the goal, scoring. “Yesssss!” Ross screams while pumping his fist.

I sink down into his bed, unable to watch. Especially a celebration. It’s too painful to see Silas’s handsome face. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve talked, and all I can wonder about is if he’s moved on. If he’s been with someone else. If he’s . . . if he’s gone back to Sarah. The thought makes me so ripe with nausea that I have to take deep breaths.

“Sorry,” Ross says. “I was saying that he has a big company to run, it’s probably going to take him a second. I’m sure you’re not the first thing on his list.”

“Probably not,” I say as I curl into his pillow. “How does he look?”

“Silas?” Ross asks.

“Yeah.”

“You really want to know?”

No.

But I can’t help myself.

“Yes, I do.”

“He looks good,” Ross says. “Thicker scruff, but he looks good, clear eyes.”

I swallow down my emotions. “Good,” I answer just as my phone rings. I sit up and stare at the Los Angeles number. “Oh my God, Ross. I think it’s JP.”

“Really?” he asks as he turns down the volume on his computer. “Answer it.”

I push my hair behind my shoulders, straighten up, and then lift the phone to my ear while accepting the call. “Hello?” I ask.

“Ollie, this is JP Cane.”

“Oh, hi, JP,” I say, my nerves just about to fray every last inch of me. “How are you?”

“Good,” he answers. “I had a moment to speak with Ryot, Banner, and Penn, and they all agreed with the popularity of the app, they need to take on another editor. I gave them your name and qualifications, and they’re ready to make an offer.” Tears well up in my eyes.

“Oh my gosh, that’s . . . that’s amazing,” I say.

“I can send you all the details in a moment as well as connect you with the guys so you can introduce yourself.”

“Wow, that would be fantastic. Thank you so much.”

“Of course. And hey, I hope that broken heart heals soon.”

A tear floats down my cheek. “Me too. Thank you, JP.”

“Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t. I promise. Thank you.”

I hang up and drop my phone to my lap as I press my hands to my eyes and cry.

Ross scoops me up into a hug. “You got it, didn’t you?”

I nod against his shoulder. “I did.” When I pull away, I say, “Looks like I’m moving to Los Angeles.”

Ross’s face falls flat, and his grip loosens. “Wait, you’re moving?”

“Yes, the company is in LA.”

“Yeah, but I thought.” He grips his hair. “I thought you’d work remotely.”

I shake my head. “I can’t stay here, Ross. Firstly, I’m no longer a student and my study permit visa will be terminated.” The joy of being an international student. You only have three months to leave after your studies have finished, or by the date on your study permit, whichever comes first.

Although, of course, it’s more than that. “But also, Silas is plastered everywhere, and when it’s not his face, it’s the Agitators logo. Even if I could stay, it’s just too painful. I have to think of it as another opportunity for a fresh start.”

“Well . . . fuck,” he says softly. “I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, yeah, of course. You’re no longer a student, but fuck.”

“I hate that I’m leaving you though, Ross.” I hate that I’m leaving without a degree . . . and a broken heart. But it’s life.

“Going to miss you, girl.”

“Going to miss you right back.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven





SILAS





“Come out with us, man,” Pacey says as he slips his shirt on.