Hudson placed a dart in my hand as I warily turned, trying to look inconspicuous as I searched for that damn goalie. Dane had been part of the trio who had dumped a drink on me. I didn't know what he would do if he saw me here with the same man. I could vaguely see his outline from where I stood, but with all the people and the old support beams holding this building up he would have to actively search for me to find me.

A thump brought my attention back to Hudson. My brow furrowed when I saw that he had an almost perfect score off his first toss. With my beer in one hand and a dart in the other, I took a deep breath. Then I tossed the dart with all the precision I could muster. It hit the wood surrounding the board and fell to the ground with a soft clatter. Clearly, hand eye coordination was not my strong point.

"Damn, Princess, I didn't think you would suck this badly," Hudson teased as he retrieved the darts. "So I guess I get to ask the first question. How do you actually feel about Tyson?"

I snatched the dart out of his hand when he offered it and spun away, annoyed with his question and wary of the goalie, but still needing to win. "Tyson is fine. He has his good moments and his bad moments. I hate him when he hits on me or when he just taunts random girls that cross his path but when he's not being a dick he's alright. I have to say that even when we had to share one hotel room in Whistler he was pretty mature about it."

"You had to share a room in Whistler? How did that happen?" Hudson demanded, no longer focused on our game. His dark eyes were very stormy all of the sudden. For someone who claimed to be good friends with the guy he certainly acted like he hated his guts.

"Are you breaking the rules?" I taunted. I threw first this time and by some miracle I managed to get a pretty good shot. Luck, of course, but it didn't stop me from smirking at Hudson.

My arrogance must've thrown him off or finding out about Whistler must've shook him up because he barely managed to get on the board this time.

"My turn," I announced when I pulled the darts out of the board. I nearly skipped back to him, reveling in the high that came with winning, even if it was on a small scale. Hudson took his dart back with a muted grumble. "So, you and Tyson are like best friends, but you hate him spending time with me."

"Is that a question?" Hudson shot back, his words a little too sharp for his usual self.

"I guess not. Why are you so against me spending time with Tyson?"

"Because I know him and I don't think his intentions are as wholesome as you would like," Hudson stated. His voice was filled with venom, but the anger only seemed to help him because when he threw it was damn near perfect.

"And your intentions, are they wholesome?" I demanded.

Hudson turned away from the dart board to face me. His lips stayed in a tight line, clearly still furious and unwilling to break the rules. But the way those dark eyes dripped down my legs, back up, over the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts before settling on my face told me everything he wasn't saying.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel in a moment like this. But I just sucked in a breath that was a little shaky, listened to my rapid heart rate in my ears and threw the dart. It was a decent shot, but not nearly as good as his. I just gulped down the rest of my beer, hoping it would cool off my warm body and prepare me for his next question.

"Why don't you date clients?" he asked.

"Get me another beer and I'll tell you," I bargained, though it wasn't part of the deal.

Hudson didn't seem to care. He finished off his mixed drink and went to the bar. This gave me a chance to vanish into the washroom for a while. After my bladder was emptied I found myself staring at the mirror. A young woman with dull, almost grey eyes stared back at me. My hair was loose and wavy and the make up I had brushed on was starting to wear off. The outfit was nice enough, but the longer I stared the more I wished I had worn a push up bra. Hudson didn't seem like the type of guy to care about those kinds of things, but it was the only way I knew when it came to men.

Eventually, I decided that nothing could be done now and I didn't want to keep Hudson waiting.

"Ready to answer my question?" he asked when I reappeared.

My eyes briefly scanned the space, looking for The Wall before I resumed my position beside Hudson. When I couldn't find him I answered. "You already know that Connor screwed me out of all my money. Money I made through photographing him," I replied.

"Well, then why are you so opposed to dating as a whole?" he asked.

I knew I could've rolled my eyes and told him that we weren't going to break the rules, but he would get another good score and I would have to reveal everything anyway. Or maybe I was just tired of harbouring this secret. "Connor cheated on me. On top of taking everything, ruining me financially, and damaging my career he destroyed my self-esteem. Right now I need to worry about myself, about getting my life back on track." The dart sailed out of my fingers, hitting a beautiful bull's eye. Had the conversation not been so grim I might've celebrated.

Hudson's shot was close, but not close enough.

"Why don't you date?" I asked, opening my hand to offer him a dart after I plucked them off the board. I noticed that his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary. My eyes flashed up to his face and those eyes were focused on me so intensely it made my cheeks heat up. I turned away before I got any stupid ideas and did something foolish like kiss him.

"My mom. She's a serial cheater. My dad loved her as much as he could, but it was too much for him. He left. Since then I didn't really want to be in a relationship. The risk is too great, you know? It's not always just you that gets hurt."

"Jesus, I'm sorry Hudson," I whispered. I reached out, our stupid game forgotten. But just as my finger tips were about to brush the back of his hand he turned away. He grabbed his drink that was resting on a nearby table.

"Not a big deal. People get cheated on all the time. You and I are both proof of that. Live and learn, right?"

My hand fell limply to my side. His words left a brutal stinging in my heart. I never wanted to think that this was normal. I didn't want to think that the suffering I had endured was a part of other people's lives as well. "Right."

Hudson threw a perfect shot. I swallowed a good portion of my beer, not even bothering to compete now. "Well, I'm not going to do any better. Ask away."

"What happened on the night I went out with you and your sister?"

"Connor," I said bluntly, finishing off my beer.

"He was there?" Hudson demanded.

"No, he wasn't." I nodded my head towards the bar that we had perched at before. He followed me and cleaned his glass with one gulp. New drinks were placed before us in record time. "Hockey players are a family. They stick together through everything. So, Connor didn't have to be there to ruin my night. His teammates did it on his behalf."

"Did they pour a drink on you?"

"You bet. It was the drink that the bartender created just for our engagement party," I admitted, wincing when the bubbly beer went down my throat wrong. The drink took the burn out of the words that tumbled out of my mouth though.

"Fuck," Hudson grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You could go after him. You should go after him."

"No point. I would gain more enemies than friends. Do you even know how many people love a sports hero like him? I'm already in a hard position. I can't risk making it worse. If I lose the photography contracts I have over controversy like that I might as well move back home with my parents."

"But people can't just get away with shit like this," Hudson argued with a shake of his head.

Maybe I had had one too many drinks but my head was swimming with thoughts of vigilantism. I wanted to hurt Connor. I wanted to make him pay for what he had done to me.

"Hey Penny," a man greeted, sliding up behind me. I flinched when I felt his hand touch the small of my back. I had always hated that nickname. Now, I loathed it more than ever.

My heart leapt into my throat. I had forgotten all about Dane, more commonly referred to as The Wall. And, as I swiveled around to see him, I felt sick. I couldn't believe that I had used to find comfort in that smile that was missing teeth and those eyes that held so much malice now.

"Hey Dane," I greeted, unable to meet his eyes. Had I been sober I would done my best to stare him down or maybe even glare at him. The alcohol let my true weakness show.

"How are you?" he cooed, his voice sickly sweet.

"Fine."

"I haven't seen you since you showed your face at our old hang out. But even then you were a little preoccupied. Oh well, you always loved that drink. What's it called? Sticks and Shots? No, Pucks and Pics, wasn't it?"

Dane was still grinning at me when Hudson launched to his feet. And that arrogant goalie kept that smirk, even when Hudson slammed a balled fist into his jaw in a brutal upper cut.