Page 80 of A Little Secret

With a laugh, I shove her away from me. “Sure, he is. Come on. I bet my sandwich is ready.”

By the timeI shove the last bite of my tomato sandwich into my mouth, Dylan’s pulling into the rink. Reeves caught a ride with Everett when Ev dropped Raine off at the duplex, letting Dylan use his car to bring us here since none of us girls have our own vehicles at the moment. I should probably figure out what I’m going to do about that soon, though. I make a mental note as I scan the area.

We’re early, but even so, the parking lot is still brimming with fans. They’re here to watch the guys warm up on the ice like the rest of us, and boy, is it a sight. The men in their gear, stretching and chatting and lazily skating across the ice like it’s what they were made to do. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a sucker for a good game, but watching the players without their game faces has its own appeal.

Hooking my purse on my shoulder, we head inside the arena. It’s already buzzing with anticipation as I stand in line to order popcorn and make my way to our seats. When I enter the stands, I catch the girls at the glass chatting with the guys, so I watch my feet, careful not to fall on my ass as I make my way toward them.

“Want some?” I tilt the cardboard box toward Raine. She pops a kernel into her mouth.

“Extra butter?” she asks.

I nod. “Obviously.”

She laughs and wiggles her fingers toward my brother. Skating closer, Everett gives her a fist bump against the glass, and she returns it with her own.

“You look pretty,” he calls.

With a grin, she motions to her face. On it is a cute little hawk beside her right eye. Its wings are spread, and in the center of its chest is Everett’s jersey number. Cheesy? Yes. Adorable? Also, yes.

“Your sister’s quite the artist,” Raine muses.

“You can blame Ophelia’s mom,” I tell her. “My Aunt Blakely is the queen of face paint.” My chest puffs up with pride. “Taught me everything I know.”

Everett’s eyes stay glued to Raine. “You know I’m gonna mess it up later, right?”

My nose wrinkles. “Gross.”

“I meant with my hands,” he replies, finally gifting me with a crumb of his attention. “Get your head outta the gutter, Finley.”

“Yeah, okay.” I snort as Dreggs skates toward us.

“Hey, Fin!” he calls.

Balancing my popcorn in my opposite hand, I wave. “Hey, Dreggs.”

“A little bird told me you’re single.”

My gaze flicks to Griffin near the blue line before I can stop myself, then I turn back to his teammate. “Sure am.”

“When’s the last time someone took you on a date?”

“A date?” I ask.

“Careful, Dreggs,” Everett growls. “She’s my baby sister.”

“I’ll be a complete gentleman, I swear,” he offers.

“Yeah, and I’m the Pope,” I tease.

He clutches his chest like I’ve sucker punched him, and my lips quirk.

He’s a flirt. He’s always been a flirt. I know it. Dylan knows it. Everett knows it.

Everyone knows it.

Still, it is amusing. Or at least, it would be if I was actually single and less like a ticking time bomb.

“Come on. One date,” Dreggs pleads, pressing his hands into a prayer gesture and everything. “You and me.”

---