Page 102 of Mine to Take

The blonde sitting next to Fallyn elbows her in the ribs. “Kind of like the way Wolf stares at you almost obsessively?”

Happiness dances in Fallyn’s blue eyes. “I certainly hope so.”

The blonde rolls hers before refocusing on me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carina.” She points to Juliette. “I live with Jules.”

“Willow.” I bump my bestie’s shoulder, who’s silently taking all this in. “And this is Holland.”

Carina stares at Holland for a handful of seconds before narrowing her eyes. “You look really familiar. I feel like we’ve met before. Are you in the dance program?”

Holland snorts. “Given that I have zero rhythm, that’s a very hard no.”

Carina’s lips tremble at the blunt response. “Maybe a gen ed course, then? Or you’ve dated someone on the team?”

I wince when Holland’s defenses go up and her expression turns guarded.

“Absolutely not. I enjoy being disease free.”

A few of the girls stare at Holland with wide eyes before dissolving into laughter.

When I catch her gaze, she jerks her shoulders and scowls. She doesn’t care how she comes across or if they like her.

That’s the beauty of being Holland.

Luckily, they all laugh it off.

Especially Carina.

She flashes a bright smile at Holland. “I think you and I were meant to be friends. Can’t say I didn’t feel the same way before I started dating Ford.”

Everyone’s attention drifts to the ice as the team warms up. Mine fastens on Maverick. Even though they all look similar with their helmets, jerseys, and black pants, I know exactly which one he is.

I’m reminded of how impossible it was to take my eyes off him at the game a few weeks ago. My belly dips when his gaze locks on mine and he lifts a gloved hand to wave.

“So, let me get this straight—you’re all dating hockey players?” Holland asks.

A petite blonde next to Britt shakes her head. “No way. My dad would stroke out if I brought home one of these guys.”

“That’s because he’s the head coach with a strict no-fraternization rule in place,” Britt adds.

“Makes perfect sense,” Holland says. “Trust me, you’re better off.” As soon as that comment shoots out of her mouth, a dull blush crawls up her cheeks.

Carina waggles her brows and presses closer. “Ohhh, I sense a story. Did you get with one of these guys?”

With a shake of her head, Holland grumbles, “No comment.”

“Damn. Whatever the story is, I’m willing to bet it’s a juicy one.”

Thick tension radiates from my friend. Her expression turns stony as her gaze is drawn back to the ice and the players who continue to stretch.

After one of the other girls brings up someone they’re all acquainted with, they change the topic and chatter about that.

“If I didn’t mention it before,” Holland whispers as she leans closer, “you totally owe me for this.”

“Whatever you want.”

One side of her mouth quirks. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Probably. But I’m still glad you came with tonight. I need you here for moral support.” My gaze flicks toward the row of girls seated in front of us. Every so often, they turn, including us in their conversation. “They seem really nice.”

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