Three Pucking Wedding Dates (Hockey Harems #1)

33. Oakley

33

OAKLEY

M y heart races in my chest as I look up at the sign, my nerves threatening to get the better of me.

“Oakley, you’ve got this,” Iris reassures me, her hazel eyes filled with confidence.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to muster up my courage. “I know, but what if it all goes wrong?” I murmur, fidgeting with the hem of my dress.

“Hey, I’ll be right there with you,” she says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Now, come on!” She ushers me forward.

As we step inside the restaurant, the smell of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee envelops us, making my stomach rumble with anticipation. The hostess greets us with a friendly grin, asking, “Name for the reservation?”

“Price,” I answer nervously, but Iris quickly speaks up, her voice steady and sure.

“Oakley Price,” she confirms, giving me an encouraging wink. The hostess nods and leads us through the bustling dining area to our table at the back of the restaurant.

My heart pounds even harder as we approach the corner booth where everyone is already seated. I can practically feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. But I won’t let it break me down, not when I have so much support by my side.

“Here we are,” the hostess says cheerfully, gesturing to the table. “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

The moment our eyes lock, Georgia’s flawless face twists into a scowl, her piercing blue eyes narrowing dangerously. It’s as if my very presence is offensive to her, and honestly, I’m not surprised. Sibling rivalry has always been a thing between us. She made it that way.

“Oakley, darling,” Tina purrs with a mocking smile, “you’re looking…well, overdressed for a simple family brunch, don’t you think?”

I feel my cheeks heat up, but Iris beats me to a response. “Actually, Tina, I think Oakley looks absolutely stunning. Perhaps you and Georgia should’ve put in a bit more effort,” she retorts playfully, her hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

The corners of my mouth lift into a grateful smile, and Iris winks at me conspiratorially. With renewed confidence, I lower myself into the seat next to Georgia, who shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

Iris slides into the seat on my other side. “Have you decided what you’re ordering, Georgia?” Iris asks casually, pretending not to notice the daggers being shot from my stepsister’s blue eyes.

“Of course,” Georgia snaps, barely containing her irritation. “I’ll be having the avocado toast.”

“Sounds healthy,” Iris quips, not missing a beat. “I think I’ll try the French toast. What about you, Oakley?”

“Definitely the eggs Benedict,” I chime in.

“So, Oakley,” Georgia drawls, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Three wedding dates, right? A bit unorthodox, don’t you think?”

“Um…” I start.

“My brothers,” Iris jumps in before I have a chance. “They’re all great guys, members of the Utica Legends as a matter of fact.”

Georgia’s eyes narrow, and I can tell she’s grinding her teeth in frustration. Sensing an opportunity, Tina interjects, her tone as icy as ever. “And who might you be, dear? I don’t recall inviting you to this family brunch.”

“I don’t need an invitation. I’ve actually been in the family longer than you have.” Iris smirks. “But where are my manners. I’m Iris Archer, Oakley’s friend and—” She pauses for dramatic effect, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. “—a model based in Paris.”

“Paris, you say?” Tina scoffs, clearly unimpressed. Georgia leans in, whispering something under her breath, but I choose to ignore it.

“Yep.” Iris pulls out her phone and looks herself up before showing it to them. “A pretty hard thing to get into, but it means I know fashion, which is how I picked out this dress for Oakley. Isn’t it pretty?”

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves. My attention shifts to Dan just in time to catch his longing gaze from the head of the table. He fidgets with his silverware, clearly uncomfortable under my appraising stare. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence—not today.

“It’s pretty,” Tina says through gritted teeth.

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling a surge of confidence. “I’m glad I decided to wear it.”

My dad chimes in, his green eyes mirroring my own. “I have to agree with Iris. That color looks beautiful on you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Warmth blossoms within me as I realize that for the first time in ages, I’m genuinely enjoying a moment spent with my father.

“Are we ready to order?” the server asks, appearing at our table just in time to interrupt Tina’s scowl.

“Absolutely,” Iris says brightly.

The clatter of silverware against plates subsides as the meal draws to a close. My dad reaches for his wallet, but I quickly interject.

“Let me take care of this, Dad,” I insist, placing my hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I want to treat us all today.”

“Are you sure, Oakley?” he asks, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

“Absolutely,” I reply, standing up with a confident smile.

As I make my way to the hostess stand, my heels click against the polished floor, echoing my newfound sense of independence. I can’t help but feel a surge of pride at having taken charge of the situation—something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.

“Oakley,” Dan calls out from behind me, his voice smooth and familiar. I turn to face him, steeling myself for whatever charm offensive he has planned.

“Dan,” I say curtly, offering him nothing more than a nod.

“You look absolutely stunning today,” he compliments, his brown eyes filled with what appears to be genuine admiration. But his flattery does nothing for me like it maybe once would have.

“Thanks,” I respond, unimpressed. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened between us,” he says, running his fingers through his meticulously styled hair. “I messed up, and I’m really sorry.”

I narrow my eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity. But honestly, whether he means it or not doesn’t matter anymore. “You know what, Dan? I don’t care,” I tell him, surprising even myself with the forcefulness of my words. “In a twisted way, you did me a favor.”

“Oakley, I—” he stammers, taken aback by my blunt response.

“Because of you,” I continue, my voice steady and strong, “I realized that I don’t need someone like you in my life. Someone who’s so wrapped up in themselves that they can’t see the damage they cause to others.”

As his face falls, I realize just how much power I’ve reclaimed from this man who once had me wrapped around his finger. And as I turn away from him, leaving him speechless and grasping for words, I feel proud of myself.

The receipt is quickly handed to me. Clutching it tightly, I turn on my heel and make my way back toward our table.

“Everything okay?” Iris asks, her eyes flicking briefly toward Dan, who still stands awkwardly by the hostess stand.

“Couldn’t be better,” I reply, tucking the receipt into my purse as I slide into the booth beside her.

“Good riddance,” she whispers, nodding discreetly in Dan’s direction before returning her attention to the conversation with my dad.

“Indeed,” I agree, feeling the weight of Dan’s stare on my back. But instead of allowing his presence to seep into my thoughts, I focus on the laughter and lively discussion at our table. I refuse to let him steal even a moment of my happiness today.

Iris chimes in, regaling my dad with an amusing anecdote from one of her modeling shoots—something involving a rogue pigeon and a very expensive hat. I can’t help but giggle at the mental image, and I lean forward eagerly to join the conversation.

“Wait till you hear this story,” I say, my voice infused with excitement. “Remember when we were at that outdoor festival, and Iris got lost in the crowd?”

The more we talk, the quieter Tina and Georgia get, reminding me of the old days.

Days I miss.