"Ta-dah!" Sarah exclaimed. "What do you think?"

Sydney shook her head in amazement. Within a couple of hours, Sarah had created several social media platforms for Sydney, including a blog where her drawings were showcased by category. It was all overwhelming yet exciting at the same time. She was content on just having portfolios of her work secluded in the chaos that was her bookcase and only pulling them out when she wanted to reminisce about failed choices and fantasize about what could've been. Now people will soon know her name.

It all felt surreal and she honestly felt like throwing up. "I don't even know what to say. This is amazing."

"You like?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sydney's raspy voice grew louder. "I love it!"

"Great!" Sarah beamed with pride. "So I'll show you how to create hashtags and all of that other stuff and you can take over from here!"

"Awesome," Sydney nodded. She was closer to fulfilling her lifelong dream of showcasing her art to the world and she felt delirious. It wasn't just nervous butterflies in her stomach; she wished it were just that simple. It was the feeling that she knew she was sitting on something big and she knew her life would change forever. She wondered if she could really handle all of it.

Her life had been a crazy ride since she'd met Dean and it was only getting better. He was going to visit her in a few days and for the first time, she was going to introduce him to her parents. She would break the ice that she's seeing someone when she went over for dinner and then surprise them with Dean a few days later.

"Everything okay over there?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," Sydney finally looked up, "it's just nuts. I didn't even think about doing this a few weeks ago and now I'm about to showcase my art to the world. Honestly, I wouldn't have even done this if Dean hadn't nudged me to take another interest in my art." Her eyes had a soft reflection in them as she remembered their ice skating adventure. She truly had a lot to be thankful for.

"That's so sweet," Sarah's mouth twisted as she opened another page, "how serious are you and Dean again?"

Dean gave not-so subtle hints to Sydney that he wanted her to move in. If it were up to Dean, she would've moved in at Christmas. If it weren't the fact Sydney played it safe and reasonably thought about her life, she would've. "I guess we're pretty serious."

"Heh," Sarah dryly replied.

"Why?" Sydney looked over her best friend's shoulder and saw what she was looking at. She felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach while her brain swooshed down to curb stomp it even further. "Oh."

This wasn't how Dean planned to spend his evening.

He was only at the bar, nursing a beer or two, before he would go home and settle in. He would give Sydney a call and maybe hope for some phone sex before he drifted off to sleep.

Instead, he was nursing a drunken Renee at her home.

He didn't like that side of Renee, the catty and bitchy one. If she had one drink, she was fine. If she had a few, she was darling. Once she was full-blown drunk, she became mean and instigated any person who dared even looked at her the wrong way. All of a sudden, sheHe wondered what in the world Renee was thinking when she felt she could drink so much. She never could when they were together and she still couldn't now they were apart. He watched her take shot after shot, downing the liquid in rapid fashion and hurrying the bartender to give another.

Something inside Dean still inexplicably cared about Renee's well-being and he couldn't in good conscience leave in the bar with lusty men anxious to take advantage of her. Letting out a deep breath and knowing he was making a mistake, Dean picked up Renee and carried her to his car. He drove to her home and helped remove her high heels before settling her into bed.

Now he watched her sleep, monitoring the slow rise and fall of her chest, and hoped to hell his girlfriend's private investigation squad didn't visit gossip blogs as he was nearly blinded by the paparazzi outside the bar.

He didn't know if they somehow knew he was at the dive bar or Renee alerted to them beforehand; his guess was Renee had something to do with it. It wasn't the type of bar that was regularly frequented by celebrities and athletes. Those who had seen Dean at the bar treated him like he was just a regular person and that's why he preferred that bar in comparison to the many others. He didn't want people to tell him how great he was, when it was clear he sucked. If he had a bad night, he wanted to hear it from the fans; from those who bought his jerseys, from those who'd paid tickets, from those who watched every game. Those ones mattered.

Fucking Renee, man.

Renee loved the spotlight and her brief foray into a Canadian version of the Real Housewives franchise – despite the fact she'd never been married – gave Dean plenty of warning signs from the jump. He never invited her back to his home, but she often asked about it. She was impressed with his choice of vehicles – the tricked-out SUV, the 7-Series BMW, and the baby blue Camaro he took on special occasions. She'd always insisted in riding in the BMW and Dean wasn't naïve to wonder why.

No one cared about him before Renee and suddenly, he was the most-searched hockey player on the web. He was sure his nude layout didn't help matters. Now he was stuck at her home, nursing her until he was secure in his thoughts she would be okay. He would have to make a quick phone call to Sydney and explain the situation before one of her friends alerted her to it. That is, if they hadn't already.

He just hoped she was a patient and understanding woman.