“A…foursome? That sounds complicated.” Does she mean sex between four people at the same time? Does that math even work?

I sip my drink and try not to call any more attention to my inexperience. Not that it’s anyone’s business.

Charli rubs her hands together, because even she isn’t immune to a juicy piece of gossip. “The trouble was that one of the women took a selfie while Anton was passed out in the hotel bed with three women around him. This woman sent it to some friends as a trophy, and it ended up on the internet. The publicity department was not pleased.”

Three women in a bed with Anton. I turn my head and glance quickly in his direction. He’s holding a glass of beer in one strong hand, laughing at something Drake is saying, and I feel several different emotions at once.

There’s such joy in him, for starters. It’s been a while since I laughed as easily as he does. But he reminds me that it’s possible.

He intimidates me, though. Somehow I can picture each muscular arm around a different woman at the same time. I’m not sure where woman number three would be in that scenario. But still—confidence practically seeps through his pores.

I can’t imagine what it would feel like to be on the other end of that dazzling smile when there were no clothes on that body. A girl could burn right up. Nothing but a little puff of smoke and a wisp of ash left to show for her.

He is really out of my league. And I really must stop staring.

I turn back to my friends and take in their happy faces. My drink is tasty, I’m full of good food, and my teammates are amusing. Life could really be worse.

And I’m enjoying this opportunity to spend time with Scarlet. In many ways, we’re competitors. If she ends up starting every Bombshells game, I’ll be sad. But she’s smart and funny and living the life I hope to lead in a few years.

“We’re in Manhattan, on the Upper East Side,” she’s saying. “I take a ferry across the river for practice. It’s not such a terrible commute. And Lucy doesn’t need us to walk her home from school anymore, because she’s in ninth grade, and wouldn’t be caught dead with us, anyway.”

“Lucy is your…stepdaughter?” Charli guesses. Scarlet is only twenty-five, and too young to have a daughter in high school.

“Sister-in-law,” she says with a smile. “Bridger is raising his little sister, and has been since she was eight. Their parents have passed.”

“Awww,” Fiona says, and I swear there are hearts in her eyes. “What a guy.”

“Lucy is the reason that he had to quit hockey,” Scarlet tells us. “He loves that I’m still playing. I run the youth hockey program at Chelsea Piers as my day job. And when Bess called about the Bombshells, Bridger brought home a bottle of champagne and told me to go for it.”