Unsportsmanlike Conduct

by Sophia Henry

  At least the whirlwind relationship had taught me something: Don’t settle. The thought of dating a guy like Spiros sounded like hell on earth after a week with Pasha.

  Instead of dwelling on lost love, I pulled Mom’s phone out of the glittery silver clutch I’d bought to match my glittery silver pumps and shot off a text to my friend Lacy. I knew she’d be there, since she had been my and Auden’s third roommate for two years at college.

  Lacy texted back, Who is this?

  It’s KK. I have my mom’s phone. Lost mine on the cruise. :(

  Oh! Get your ass in here! Auden has been asking about you every five seconds for the last half hour.

  I’m walking in now.

  I’m the worst best friend ever.

  I dashed through the doors of the Roostertail, a swanky restaurant on the Detroit River, and quickly found the Marine Room. In my twenty-two years as a metro Detroit resident, I’d heard of the Roostertail on multiple occasions, but I’d never been here.

  It took me a minute to find my bearings once I stepped into the magnificent room. The space had Auden written all over it, from the gorgeous red sash tied around the back of each chair to the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a striking view of the Windsor skyline across the river. Aleksandr had done an exceptional job prompting the decorators, because I knew he’d been the one who’d taken the reins in planning the party.

  Auden had said she didn’t want to make a big fuss. She’d said she didn’t want a celebration like this until she and Aleksandr had been married for fifty years. But after the life she’d had, she deserved it. And she deserved the man who’d put this perfect party together for her.

  I basked in the warm glow of sphere pendant fixtures wrapped in white lights dropping from the ceiling and candles flickering on each table as I scanned the room for Lacy—or anyone else I knew.

  I finally saw Indie Meadows, a former coworker at the brewery and steakhouse I worked at during college, standing with Landon Taylor and his girlfriend. Landon is Aleksandr Varenkov’s best friend and Indie is dating his brother, Jason.

  I hurried over and draped my arm across Indie’s shoulders. “Hey, guys!”

  Indie jumped against my arm. “Geez, KK! You scared me.”

  “Hey, KK.” Landon’s lips morphed into a sweet smile.

  The girl next to Landon smiled, though with her head tilted down, her face was barely visible under the veil of dark hair.

  Instead of waiting two seconds for Landon to introduce me to her, I extended my hand toward her. “Hi! I’m Kristen, but you can call me KK. Everyone does.”

  When she lifted her head, her eyes were wide with surprise. “Hi,” she croaked. Then she cleared her throat. “Hi. I’m Gaby.”

  “Gaby!” I threw my arms around her. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  And I had. Auden told me about sweet, shy Gaby, the sister of Drew Bertucci, Auden’s best friend growing up.

  “You’re just as gorgeous as your brother,” I said. “Oh, that came out wrong. I meant you’re hot, too.”

  “Thanks. We’re a hot family,” Gaby deadpanned, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  “Speaking of Drew…” I craned my neck and looked around the room.

  It probably looked like I was interested in him, when really I just wanted to see what he looked like. In all the years I’ve known Auden, I’d never met him. Probably because he’d had a shit fit when she started dating Aleksandr. Varenkov thought it was jealousy, but I didn’t. I thought they had more of a brother-sister relationship and Drew had figured he was saving her from getting her heart broken by a young, arrogant hockey player. Good thing Aleksandr is the furthest thing from a ladies’ man. The guy is hot and slightly cocky, but he’s not a player.

  “He’s around here somewhere,” Landon answered. “I saw him a few minutes ago.”

  “Where’s your man?” I asked Indie.

  “Jason’s outside taking family pictures with the bride and groom.” She pointed toward the door leading to the outdoor patio.

  “Really?” I asked.

  Indie nodded. “Auden is all about including him. She’s kind of a freak about it.”

  “I’m glad she’s embracing the repression,” I said.

  Indie socked me in the arm.

  Auden’s background is a sad puzzle of repression and secrets. After getting pregnant at sixteen, Auden’s mom, Valerie, gave her son, Jason, up for adoption. A few years later she had Auden, and kept her. Then Valerie was killed in a robbery, and Auden was raised by her grandparents. They never told her about the baby boy her mom had given up for adoption.

  In the crazy randomness that is life, Auden and Jason met and realized they were related. They’ve been working on a relationship ever since. It’s a sweet and sad story all rolled into one.

  “Want me to get you a drink?” Landon asked, nodding toward the bar.

  “No, thanks. I’ll go up there. I need to see what they have.”

  “It’s a full bar,” Landon assured me.

  “Fine! I need to check out the eye candy.”

  The joke came easily since my friends expected flirty and fun KK. Plus it was hard to ignore all the sexiness in the room. As a hot hockey player himself, Aleksandr’s main group of friends consisted of buff athletes.

  Too bad I couldn’t stop thinking about Pasha. But it was over and there was no reason to be a buzzkill at my best friend’s wedding reception. I’d spill the entire cruise story and whirlwind romance to her the next day.

  I took my place in line behind a platinum blonde with dark roots wearing a skintight red dress more appropriate for a club than a wedding reception. Then again, I shouldn’t be so judgmental, since the dress I had on was equally tight and short. I guess mine seemed classier because it was covered in ruching.

  Normally I would’ve commented on her gorgeous strappy black stiletto sandals, but she seemed busy tapping away on her cellphone, so I refrained. Instead I scanned the room. Before the cruise, the number of hot men to flirt with in this room had been an exciting thought. But not after Pasha.

  Where was he? What was he doing? Who was he doing? Ugh.

  It had only been a week. How could he have had this much of an effect on me?

  Pasha had ruined me for other men. I couldn’t imagine having as much fun with anyone else. I couldn’t imagine having a connection like that with anyone else. I couldn’t imagine—

  “Miss? What can I get you, miss?” The bartender’s harsh tone brought me back to the moment.

  “Sor—” I began. When I looked up, I realized he’d been talking to the blonde in front of me, who was still tapping on her phone.

  “Vodka,” she demanded without looking up.

  The bartender grunted and grabbed a bottle from the shelf behind him. He poured straight vodka into a glass and pushed it across the bar. The girl looked up to grab the glass and walk away.

  “What can I get you, miss?” He sounded tired, though the party had barely started.

  I caught a flash of something at the corner of my eye, and I shrieked. Hastily I said to the bartender, “I’m so sorry,” then dug into my purse and threw a five on the bar. It was an open bar, but I felt bad for screaming in his face—and because of the girl who’d barely acknowledged him. “I’ll be back.”

  Neither my five-inch heels nor the slippery wood floor would stop me from sprinting to tackle-hug my best friend.

  “You’re here!” Auden threw her arms around me. I squeezed her tight and felt like crying for a fraction of a second. I had never seen her look so radiant.

  “You are gorgeous!” I said when I pulled back to take in the sight of my friend in a traditional wedding dress.

  Auden looked stunning in a strapless, ruched gown the color of champagne, complete with crystal bling that resembled tiny bubbles. The fabric hugged the curves of her hips and upper thighs before it flowed into three asymmetrical tiers and a final lacy tier at the bottom that brushed her spectacular glittery heels—the same heels
she’d worn for her wedding at the courthouse. The dress’s mermaid silhouette fit in with a reception on the water.

  “Is it lame?” Auden asked, brushing her palms across the fabric at her hips.

  “Lame?” I asked. “You are absolutely stunning! And I’ve never seen you so happy.”

  My best friend pulled me into another hug.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” I warned her. I didn’t want her to mess up her perfect makeup. Also, I didn’t want to cry. If I cried, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and my night would be over. The tears would start with happiness for Auden and continue in sadness over Pasha.

  “Where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you returned my calls or texts?” Auden asked when we pulled away.

  “Sia sent my phone over the rail by accident on the first night of our trip.”

  “No!” Auden’s eyes were wide.

  “Yeah, it sucked. I was phoneless. But I’ll get pics from Lena and Sia and post them soon.”

  “You have a lot of explaining to do,” Auden said.

  Though her comment struck me as an odd way of asking about my trip, I brushed it off because this party was about celebrating Auden and Aleksandr’s marriage.

  “I’ll tell you all about it. But not tonight.” I took her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. “Tonight we party.”

  —

  After more than two hours of dancing, drinking, and chatting with friends and Auden’s family, I had to excuse myself to use the restroom.

  Being among Auden and our friends was helping to heal my broken heart. It was exactly the return to reality I needed after the cruise. Plus, now that Auden lived in Charlotte with Aleksandr, I wanted to enjoy every second I had with her.

  When I entered the bathroom, the blonde in the red dress who’d been in front of me at the bar stood at the sink inhaling a cigarette. Scratch that—from the pungent odor, it had to be weed.

  “Hey.” She caught my eyes in the mirror and offered me the joint.

  “No, thanks,” I said, shaking my head and hightailing it to a stall.

  I’m not naive. I know people take drugs, especially people with disposable income like athletes. And I’m cool with that. In fact, I totally support making marijuana legal, even though I can’t smoke it because of the bad-lungs thing. At least she wasn’t doing something harder, like coke or Ecstasy. That would have made me much more uncomfortable.

  Auden and Aleksandr were snuggling in a corner when I came back to the party. I couldn’t help the jealous pang in my heart at seeing them so happy and content. They had an amazing relationship. They helped each other. They made each other better.

  I’d only ever felt that with Pasha. He made me better. And despite what he’d said, I thought I’d made him better, too. At least for a short time. I wanted to be snuggling in a corner with him right now.

  I took another swift glance at the happily married couple before swinging by the bar. Then I carried my drink to the patio, still thinking about Pasha.

  I couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t seemed open to pursuing a long-distance relationship—I mean, why throw away something so special? I knew we’d both felt the connection.

  I pulled Mom’s phone out of my purse and sent him a quick text. The worst that can happen is that he doesn’t respond, right?

  Multiple phones dinged and buzzed amid the crowd enjoying the fresh air on the patio. I’d just turned around to go back inside when I noticed a familiar face at the table closest to the door. Confusion and surprise held me still and stopped me from moving forward.

  What the…

  Though his head was tilted down with his eyes locked on his phone screen, there was no doubt whom the perfectly gelled dark hair belonged to.

  Chapter 28

  “Pasha?” Kristen’s voice cut through the thick, humid air.

  Here we go.

  I lifted my head immediately. I needed to see her one last time. Ready to face her wrath. I deserved it. Hell, I craved it.

  She stood in front of me in a tight black dress that hugged every curve. I remembered the dress. She’d worn it on the first night of the cruise—the night we’d danced, our bodies intertwined and in sync, for almost two hours. I couldn’t help but scan her from her tanned legs all the way up to her face. Her eyebrows had pulled together, creating an angry wrinkle between them, and her lips were twisted in confusion and disbelief.

  I took mental photos of every detail, every feature, since tonight would be the last time I’d ever see her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. Her eyes darkened as they flicked between me and Svetlana, who sat next to me with her arm slung across the back of my chair.

  To Kristen, I’m sure it looked like Svetlana and I were together, but we weren’t, of course. Ironically enough, I’d just been telling her about Kristen, though I’d left out the part about knowing she’d be here tonight.

  “I know the groom,” was the only thing I said.

  “I’m…,” she began, then shook her head. A thick chunk of her silky brown waves fell into her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear before speaking again. “I’m really confused right now. We just spent a week together. You knew I was from Detroit and you didn’t tell me you’d be here for a wedding reception?”

  Her eyes shifted to Svetlana again. And I watched as pain and anger replaced the previous look of confusion and disbelief, as if I’d silently plunged the knife of betrayal deeper into her heart.

  “That’s her, isn’t it?” Svetlana asked me in Russian. She leaned closer to me and raised her voice in anger. “Did you know she’d be here?”

  I waved her away with my hand and stood. “This is what I couldn’t tell you,” I said to Kristen. “This is how I knew you would be angry with me.”

  “Well, yeah! It doesn’t take a genius to know I’d be pissed to find out that you had a girlfriend the entire time you played me on the cruise.”

  Svetlana bolted to her feet. “What are you doing, Pasha? What did you tell her?” she yelled at me, still speaking Russian.

  I shrugged her off. In English I said, “Give me a minute.”

  “No. You will explain this to me—to us—right now,” she demanded, also in English.

  “I will explain nothing.” I slammed my hand on the table.

  “Fuck that! You’ll explain everything!” Kristen yelled. “Who are you? Who the fuck are you, for real?” Her hands curled into fists at her side.

  I closed my eyes. “You know who I am.”

  “No, I don’t. I know who you pretended to be: Pasha, a sweet, adventurous, fictional man from a cruise. I don’t know who you really are.”

  Suddenly Auden burst onto the patio with Aleksandr at her side. “What’s going on?”

  “No fucking clue,” Kristen mumbled.

  “Pasha, what’s going on?” Aleksandr repeated.

  “Who is this guy?” Kristen asked. She looked at Auden, silently pleading for an answer.

  “Shit,” Auden whispered, closing her eyes briefly and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger, as if coming to a realization. “It’s Pavel Gribov. He’s one of Aleksandr’s teammates from the Aviators.”

  Kristen stared at me. The realization of how she knew my name must’ve set in, because she staggered backward.

  “Did you know who I was when we met?” she asked me. It was just like her to get straight to the point.

  “Not on the track,” I answered. “But you mentioned Varenkov at the pool, before we told each other our names. I realized who you were then.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” she snapped.

  “Because you never would have given me a chance if you knew who I was.” I dropped my gaze to the ground, too ashamed to look at her.

  We both knew the truth. I wasn’t proud of how she’d found out, because I knew I’d not only hurt her but embarrassed her, too. I should have been a better man.

  But this situation proved that I wasn’t.

  I
stood behind my decision. I didn’t deserve an amazing person like her and she didn’t deserve a lying bastard like me.

  —

  Pavel Gribov.

  Pavel fucking Gribov.

  My fingernails dug into my palms as I squeezed my fists tighter. I couldn’t speak, because what he’d said was the truth. If he’d told me his real name when we first met, I would have told him to fuck off.

  I’d never met Pavel Gribov—or even seen him. I’d only heard about him from Auden. He was the jerk who’d set up Aleksandr to make it seem like he’d cheated on Auden in a vicious attempt to break them up when they’d first started dating. He was the jerk Auden had described as “a freaking horrible prick who runs his mouth and makes everyone around him miserable.”

  And I fell for him.

  “I am right, yes?” Pavel asked when I didn’t answer.

  I pressed my lips together and nodded. I couldn’t believe that everything we’d talked about and everything we’d shared over the last week had been completely fake. A multitude of questions barraged my brain, but I didn’t know which one to ask first. Especially since all I wanted to do was cuss the bastard out.

  “I barely lied to you,” he continued. “My name is Pasha. I was a Pilot. I live in Charlotte.”

  “But…You…I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence; hell, I couldn’t begin the sentence, since technically those things were the truth. Though he hadn’t been a pilot in the sense I’d believed.

  It was still lying when you omitted integral information on purpose, right?

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t lying, but it was definitely deceitful. And I didn’t need someone in my life who could pull off that kind of deceit so easily.

  “A lie is a lie. There is no ‘barely.’ ” I clutched my hair and took a deep breath before lifting my eyes to him. “I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you do or where you live. I never want to see you again. I never want to speak to you again.”

  “If you would just understand where I’m—”

  “Understand? Understand what? That you’re a sick man who gets off on making other people miserable?” I asked.