Page 95 of Wicked Serve

“Ten,” Sebastian says. “I remember our mothers shrieking.”

“Worth it,” I say, punctuating that with a sweep of my hair over my shoulder. “James was so mad at me.”

“Yeah, because I was open all the way down the field,” Sebastian says. “I’d have taken it to the end zone for sure if he managed to throw it.”

“Sure,” Cooper says, drawing out the word.

“You keep telling yourself that,” I add, smiling sweetly at him.

“I’m just imagining you flying through the air with the tutu on,” Mia says.

“Bear in mind it wasn’t a cute ballet pink,” Cooper says. “It was this horrendous hot pink—”

“It was not horrendous,” I interrupt. “It was sparkly and awesome.”

“I’m sure you looked adorable,” Nik says. “And the flying tackle doesn’t surprise me at all. You’re a little hellion when you want to be.”

“You want this little hellion.”

“Mm,” he says, ducking to kiss me. “It’s such a hardship.”

“Ugh, stop,” Penny says. “You two are so cute.”

Cooper rolls his eyes as the server comes over with the check, but I catch the smile on his face. Thank God. After we pay, I lead the way to the street, bundling into my coat as I weave through the tables.

It’s a chilly but clear afternoon. Christmas decorations still dominate the main downtown strip. Even though the holiday has come and gone, the window decorations make me smile. I hurry around the corner ahead of everyone else to peer at an elaborate toy train set chugging away in the window of the hardware store. It weaves around a little North Pole scene, complete with penguins ice-skating on the frozen lake in the center of town. I put my palm to the glass, trying to spot penguin Santa.

I catch sight of a man’s reflection in the window. “Nik, look at these itty-bitty little penguins.”

“Hey, Izzy.”

I know that voice. I whip my head around. My stomach drops at the sight of Chance, of all people, standing on the sidewalk. Same mop of blond hair. Same sharp blue eyes. He’s broader than I remember, and somehow taller. The mustache is new as well, but the cocky smile is the same.

He looks... good. I hope I don’t have chocolate on my face. I press against the glass as my heart rate kicks into gear. He takes a step closer, but doesn’t go in for a hug.

I shove my hands into my coat pockets. “Um. Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for my girlfriend,” he says, gesturing to the boutique next to the hardware store. “Didn’t want to look at all the girly shit, you know?”

“Oh.” I attempt a smile. My palms are slick with sweat, despite the cold air. I wish I didn’t drink that third mimosa. “You... you have a girlfriend?”

There’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I stalked him on Instagram. I wonder if he’s still dating that pretty blonde, or if he moved on to someone else by now.

“Been dating a year and a half now,” he says. “Her name’s Madison.”

My heart sinks. A year and a half. That’s the entire time we’ve been in college.

“We met during move-in day freshman year,” he continues. “She’s a dancer. And pre-med.”

“Wow,” I force out. “She sounds very, um...”

“It’s nice to be with someone serious,” he adds, his gaze running up and down my body. He takes another step, backing me against the building. “Someone driven. My old man approves.”

My scalp prickles with discomfort. He’s assessing me, determining if the way I look now matches up with his memories. His dad never liked me. I remember the looks I got whenever I went to his house. I glance around, but I don’t see Nik or my family.

“Right. Sure.”

“What about you? I remember the fun we used to have,” he says, lingering on the word fun. “Working your way through the suckers at McKee? I’d ask what you’re studying, but I don’t think they have a major in party planning.”

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