She had never been quite as uncomfortable at a hockey game as she was at this one was.

Which was ridiculous. It made absolutely no sense at all. Jenny normally loved watching the games. The fast pace. The intensity. The hard-hitting grit and heart the players brought to the ice every single shift.

Tonight should have been even more exciting. A time for celebration. The Bombers were leading by two points. She had a prime seat right on the glass. Her brother was playing hard, aggressive, digging in the corners and battling for the puck each time he was on the ice. Tyler was playing well, blocking most of the other team's shots, his limber body bending and contorting in ways that made her mouth water as she squirmed in the seat, thinking of all the other ways his limber body moved.

And she finally got the job offer she wanted. She'd be starting as the new assistant manager at one of the clothing stores in the mall on Monday. Life was good. Better than good. So yeah, she should be excited and celebrating, sitting on the edge of her seat, laughing and cheering and banging the glass every time play came near them.

Except she wasn't.

She was sitting with Megan and her friend, Haley—an outgoing redhead who cheered as loudly as she booed, and who couldn't seem to stop talking about Zach. One minute she was busy ogling him or talking about his tattoos. The next, she was ranting about how rude and obnoxious he was. Jenny couldn't be sure, but there seemed to be a definite love-hate relationship brewing there.

Or maybe she was just reading into things. Maybe it was just a hate-hate relationship because she could have sworn she heard Megan mention something about Haley's boyfriend. Or maybe it was an ex-boyfriend. Whoever he was, he seemed to be a real piece of work from what she'd been able to glean from the whispered bits of hissed conversation.

And then there was Megan herself, who looked almost as uncomfortable as Jenny felt. She didn't seem to know much about the game, which was fine by Jenny—not everyone did. If not for being around it all her life because of Jason, she wouldn't know much about it, either. Megan would learn, eventually, if she and Jason stuck together. From the dreamy, almost distracted look in her eyes whenever her gaze followed Jason on the ice, Jenny was fairly certain the couple would be together for quite a long time.

Good. For as big a pain in her ass as he could be, she wanted Jason to be happy.

But she still felt uncomfortable, like an outsider. The other two women would occasionally talk about the different players, laughing about how this one did that or how so-and-so acted at Megan's bar. They looked at her, expectant smiles on their faces, waiting for her to contribute her own stories. But she couldn't, because she didn't really know the other players, hadn't spent any time around any of them.

Except for Tyler. And she couldn't say a word about it, couldn't talk about him at all. Not even when Megan had noticed her watching Tyler in the net and playfully teased her about how attractive he was, telling her how nice he'd always been.

Jenny had come so close to saying something. Or rather, a few somethings, not all of them exactly G-rated. She bit the words back each time, knowing whatever she said would be questioned, that the other two women would ask how she knew.

And then there would be hell to pay because Jenny knew whatever she said would get back to Jason. And then he would start asking questions—questions she had no intentions of answering.

So she'd spent the better part of the last two periods biting her tongue and saying nothing unless the two women specifically asked her about some nuance of the game--which probably made the other two women think she was unsociable.

What a great first impression to make on her brother's girlfriend.

And the worst was yet to come. Jason insisted she go to Mystic's with everyone after the game. A way to celebrate her new job, he told her. And then he laughed and said everyone was finally going to meet Tyler's new girlfriend, which was a special bonus.

Except they wouldn't, not really. Because Tyler's new girlfriend was going to be struck with a sudden onslaught of the flu and not be able to show up. At least, as far as everyone else was concerned. In reality, she'd be there: hiding in the corner, unable to even look at Tyler in case someone suspected something.

She should have never agreed to tonight. She should have told Jason she was busy, that she had reading up to do in preparation for her new job. It wouldn't have been a lie: she'd been handed an employee handbook to read and a pile of paperwork to fill out before starting on Monday. But one look at Jason told her she wouldn't be able to get out of tonight, no matter how hard she tried. He wanted her to spend time with Megan, to get to know her.

So here she sat, feeling like the third wheel, not knowing what to say or how to act.

The glass rocked in its frame in front of her, pulling her from her thoughts. Jenny looked up, an automatic smile on her face as she banged against the glass and yelled. Neither player looked their way, too intently focused on fighting for the puck at their feet. Jenny glanced up at the giant screen suspended above center ice, watched as the puck shot free and play moved away from them. She reached for her beer, the grin dying on her face when she noticed Megan and Haley both staring at her.

"Won't you get in trouble for doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Banging like that. Doesn't it distract them?"

Jenny bit off the sarcastic comment before it left her mouth. Megan was serious, she honestly thought the players might get distracted. She shook her head and took a quick sip of the beer, then threw a quick glance at the play unfolding at center ice.

"They won't be distracted. They're too busy focusing on the game to notice anything else. Especially Zach. Didn't you see that look on his face?"

Haley leaned around Megan, surprise etched on her face. "That was Zach?"

"Yeah. Didn't you recognize him?"

"Are you kidding? It all happened too fast. And they all look alike. The only thing I noticed was the ferocious scowl." Haley sipped her beer, a thoughtful expression clouding her face. "Actually, I guess it could have been Zach, considering the way he scowls all the time. Like he's terminally constipated or something."

Jenny nearly spit the beer from her mouth. She clapped her hand over her mouth and started coughing with enough force to make her eyes tear. Both women watched her, like they were expecting beer to come shooting out of her nose.

Two seconds sooner, and it just might have.

She stopped coughing long enough to take a deep breath. She wiped her eyes then offered both of them a disbelieving smile. "Zach? The man is nothing more than a big old teddy bear. Trust me."

"A teddy bear? Are we talking about the same Zach? The man-whore?"

"Man-whore?" Okay, maybe Zach played around a little too much, but she didn't think he qualified for that particular title. Then again, it was Zach. Maybe he did.

Which didn't explain the look of horror on Haley's face, or the way Megan was nudging the other woman in the side and mumbling something under her breath. Jenny eyed both of them, not bothering to hide her confusion.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I mean, if you and Zack are together or something—"

"Oh God, no. Eww. Gross. Not even."

"Are you sure? Because I didn't mean—"

"Yeah. Totally sure. Zach's like a brother to me. And even if he wasn't, he's not my type. Trust me."

Relief flashed across Haley's face, quickly replaced by an irritated frown. "Good. Then you won't mind if I call him an asshole."

"Just ignore her. I think Haley has a crush on him but just won't admit it."

"Not hardly. I told you, he's terminally constipated. And he is definitely not my type."

"Then who is? Someone like Jimmy?" Anger laced Megan's voice. "I told you, he's dangerous. I don't like him—"

"And we're not together anymore so it isn't a big deal, is it?"

"Yeah. This week. What about tomorrow? Or next week? I told you, I don't like him. I don't like how—"

"Megan. Not here." Haley slid a meaningful look at Jenny, one she was certain she wasn't meant to see. Jenny lowered her gaze, feeling like an outsider once more. She reached for her beer again, her eyes darting toward Haley as the other woman did the same. The sleeve of her shirt caught on the edge of the chair and slid up, exposing a slender arm ringed with mottled bruises. Old and new, in horrifying shades of purple and yellow—and in the shape of a large hand, as if someone had grabbed her. Repeatedly, and hard. Jenny froze, staring at Haley's arm, her mind trying to shy away from what she was seeing.

Haley noticed her staring and quickly yanked the sleeve down, turning in the seat as she pretended to focus on the game. Jenny opened her mouth to say something then quickly snapped it closed.

What could she say? She didn't know Haley, didn't know what was going on. It wasn't her place to say anything.

Except it was. It didn't matter if she knew Haley or not. What mattered was that someone had done that to her. Jenny couldn't keep quiet, it wasn't right.

She leaned across Megan, ignoring the warning look the woman was giving her. "Haley, that's not right. If you need help—"

"Look, isn't that Jason?" Megan nudged her in the side and pointed toward the ice. Jenny shot a scowl in her direction then glanced at the ice, frowning, unable to keep the impatience and anger from her voice.

"No, it's not Jason."

"Whoever it is, shouldn't he be stopping that guy with the puck?"

Yes, he should. It was a single Bombers D-man, skating hard after a player from the other team, trying to catch up and stop the breakaway. Jenny shouldn't have cared, shouldn't have let Megan distract her.

And she wouldn't have been distracted if she hadn't looked at Tyler, if she hadn't noticed he was out of position. She rose to her feet, her hand banging against the glass, shouting with everyone else.

Yelling, screaming for Tyler to get back into position, to watch out, to stop the puck before it slammed into the back of the net.

She knew Tyler couldn't hear her. Knew that he couldn't hear any of them. But for one split second, she swore that he glanced her way, swore their eyes met in that instant just before he lost his footing and fell sideways on the ice.

The puck shot high, tipping off the edge of Tyler's glove before dropping into the back of the net. The red light flashed as boos erupted around the arena. Tyler pushed to his knees and even from where she was standing, Jenny could see the disappointment on his face. Not just disappointment: anger, irritation, impatience. The puck should have never gotten past him, and it was obvious he knew it.

Jenny lowered herself to the chair, slumping against the hard back as the score was announced over speaker system. It was just one goal, it didn't matter. The Bombers were still up, they still had thirty minutes of play left. So no, it didn't matter.

So then why couldn't Jenny shake the feeling that it did matter? Or was that nothing more than anger on Haley's behalf? Anger at Haley for brushing off the bruises covering her arm. Anger at Megan for trying to distract her.

Anger at Viktor for what he'd done to her almost a year ago. Anger at the own bruises she still carried deep inside as a result of his vile and petty vindictiveness. Bruises only she could see.

Jenny reached for her beer and took a long swallow, barely tasting the lukewarm brew. How much more time had to pass before she got over it? How much more time before she could truly be free of what happened?

Or was she no better than Haley, pretending that what happened didn't matter?