Hours later, Gemma stumbled back to her apartment, a little tipsy from a dinner that may have involved more drinks than she’d had since celebrating her divorce.
Gemma had won the lottery with her family—close-knit, caring, and endlessly supportive. Oh, they weren’t perfect. Chris had gone from annoying little brother to the guy who had all his shit together when Gemma absolutely did not. Dad worried about Gemma too much, and Mom was prone to musing about all the ways she’d like to make her former son-in-law pay for hurting her daughter. Grandpa Thomas always had to take Gemma aside for a pep talk about how Alan had never been good enough for her. Then there was Grandma Dot, who always had photos of eligible single men—grandsons and grandnephews of her wide social circle.
So, yep, every member of her family could be a pain in the ass, in their own unique ways, but so could Gemma, so she fit right in.
She got home just before midnight, flying so high that when her phone rang, she thought it was Mason and answered, an impulse she was too drunk to analyze.
Instead, an even more familiar male voice said, “You’re datingMason Moretti?”
She blinked, some of the champagne-induced euphoria fading. “Alan?”
“You went to high school with the Mace? And you never told me?”
There was genuine hurt in his voice. Was it the champagne that made a little giggle tickle up her throat? Her bastard of an ex had just discovered that she knew his favorite hockey player and never told him? Clearly a betrayal on the same level as screwing around with his PA and getting her pregnant.
Alan didn’t wait for an answer. “I saw the interview.Everyoneis sending it to me. What the hell did you do to him?”
“What?”
“He wasnice. To you. The Mace can be a decent enough guy, but he was actuallynice.”
Huh, must be that blow job I gave him before the interview.
“Mason was nice because we’ve known each other since kindergarten.” And then, because she was tipsy, she couldn’t help rubbing it in. “You should have seen him back then, always toting around his skates. The janitor used to make a rink out back, just for Mason. It was so annoying.”
“How?”
“Because Mason kept bugging me to bring my skates and join him at recess.”
Dead silence. Then: “That’s a joke, right?”
Gemma collapsed backward onto the love seat. “I wish.Soannoying.”
“Mason Moretti wanted you to skate with him, and you saidno?”
“I don’t like skating. You know that.”
While Masonhadasked a few times, he hadn’t persisted aftertwo—three?—refusals. Yet if Alan envisioned little Mace Moretti with a schoolyard crush on his ex-wife…
Hey, it wasn’t as evil as most of her mother’s revenge plans.
“So you two grew up together?” Alan said.
That suggested they’d been close, which was an exaggeration, so Gemma gave a noncommittal “Sure.”
“And you were just friends.”
“Hmm?”
“You weren’t ever more than friends, right.”
It was the “right” that pushed her over the edge. That “right” didn’t ask a question. It made a statement. And she was not letting that statement pass.
Gemma stretched out on the love seat, her feet dangling. “Mostly. I mean, there was that one kiss. He wanted to tell me something in private, and the next thing you know… it was high school. These things happen.”
“You… kissed Mace Moretti?”
“More like made out with him. Behind the school. I couldn’t help myself. He’s such a good kisser. Like,amazinglygood.” She sighed, deeply.
