MasukOn a December evening, College Street is ablaze with light. A warm glow radiated from the restaurants, the smell of garlic and wine coming through every door that opens, the conversations in the street a mix of English and Italian that Mia walks through like a temperature change.She'd found this block in her second week in Toronto. She hasn't told anyone until now.Elias walks beside her."This one," she says, stopping in front of a door with a handwritten specials board and no reservation sign. "They make the pasta in-house. The owner is from Emilia-Romagna, so he has opinions about it.""What kind of opinions?""The correct kind," she says, and pushes the door open.The restaurant is small and warm. The owner seats them himself and brings a basket of bread without being asked.Elias picks up the bread, tears a piece, and reaches for the olive oil.Mia watches.He dips the bread in the oil. Lifts it. She says nothing, but something in her expression must communicate itself, because
The first time Tyler walks past the admin corridor on purpose, he tells himself he isn't doing it on purpose.There's nothing deliberate about slowing down near the open door of the administrative office, or scanning the room beyond it with the particular focus of someone looking for one specific face among several.She isn't there.He stops a colleague passing by and asks, casually, whether Lisa is around. The answer he gets is that Lisa has transferred to a different department, something in cross-promotional coordination, and no longer works out of this office."She said something about avoiding a conflict of interest," the colleague adds.Tyler hears the phrase land in him like a stone in still water.Avoiding a conflict of interest. Meaning him.She'd rearranged her entire working situation to ensure she didn't have to see him, and had done it quietly, without announcement, with the same thoroughness she brought to everything else.He hadn't thought she'd go that far. He's beginn
The cold gets into the wet patch on Mia's shoulder almost immediately—the place where Lisa had been crying. She grabs Ellie's arm and they move back toward the bar.Elias is already outside.He's standing at the entrance in just his sweater. He straightens when he sees her."Mia—""You came out without a jacket," she says, instead of hello. She puts her hand on his sleeve, cold, slightly damp from the air. "You didn't even bring mine.""I was going to, and then I saw the three of you and decided it wasn't the moment." He says. "Is she alright?""She will be." Mia takes his arm and steers them both back through the door, into the noise and warmth. "She went home."Elias doesn't push for more than that."You're not angry at the team," he says, quiet enough for just her. It's not quite a question.She considers it honestly. "I was, for about thirty seconds. Then I remembered that one person's choices aren't everyone's character." She pauses. "But your teammate has very poor judgment and
Lisa's voice, when she finally speaks, is completely level."I also heard," she says, her gaze moving once across Jason and the others before returning to Tyler, "the betting pool your teammates were running. Whether I'd last until Christmas or just another month."She tilts her head. "Very creative. I won't repeat the details."The music from the dance floor carries on, indifferent, but the space immediately around them has gone static—everyone listening, no one moving.Tyler's expression cycles through several things. He opens his mouth.Lisa doesn't give him the opening."What disgusts me," she says, stepping forward, her voice rising just enough to be heard cleanly, "isn't them. It's you. I keep trying to figure out where you found the confidence—whether it's the hockey, or something more basic, the part of you that operates without involving your brain at all." She shakes her head. "I used to think you were more than that. I was wrong about the quantity."She looks at him for one
"Consider it a date then..."Nina's voice is a toxic cocktail of honey and gin, dripping with a drunken, melodic filth that Lisa can't ignore.Nina's fingers trace slow, suggestive circles over Tyler's chest. "Since the last time...I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. You were so dominant, Tyler. You filled me so completely, I could barely walk for a week."She stands on her tiptoes, her body a lithe, desperate curve against his. "My body is dying for you! Just for tonight...find a way to slip away from the party. Meet me at our old spot?"Lisa feels as though she's been dipped in liquid nitrogen.Tyler lets out a low, vibrant chuckle. "Nina, you're drunk," he says, his voice carrying that familiar, flirtatious lilt that Lisa once mistook for affection. "You know I have a girlfriend.""That little mouse?" Nina scoffs, her body pressing even closer, her chest molding against his arm. "She looks like she'd faint if you did half the things to her that you do to me. Does she eve
Lisa stands at the corner near the vending machines, her breath hitching in her throat.There he is. Tyler.He's holding two bottles of water, his head tilted as he listens to a man in a Bears' supporter jacket. If it were just that, Lisa could have breathed. She could have walked over and slipped her hand into his. But then her gaze shifts, landing on Nina.Nina, the woman Emily and the others had been whispering about with those tight, guarded expressions, is standing just inches away. She's a vision of predatory grace, dressed in skin-tight yoga pants and a tiny tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination.Nina's hand slides up Tyler's arm, her body pressing against his with a casual, practiced intimacy. She whispers something in his ear, her eyes flashing with a wicked, seductive light.Tyler doesn't push her away. In fact, he leans down, a familiar, easy grin spreading across his face—the same grin he used to give Lisa when they first started dating.Lisa watches him from the







