Page 32 of Back On Ice

I roll my eyes, but deep down… way deep down, I wonder if that’s exactly what I need.

So, we spend the day in the living room watching romantic comedies, doing each other's nails, trying different face masks, and lazing on the couch.

When the evening hits, we move upstairs to my room to get ready for a night out. I hop in the shower while Abbie does her hair and makeup. I come out in my towel, my hair dripping wet, to find what looks like a closet explosion. There are clothes everywhere.

“Abbie!” I cry, picking up a pair of ripped jeans that I haven’t worn in six years from the bed. “What did you do?”

“I’m finding something suitable for you to wear!” she shouts from my walk-in closet, and I go over only to find her rifling through the hangers in the back.

“Those are?—”

“Sexy as hell?” Abbie raises a brow while tossing a black wad of fabric at me.

The dress I catch is a classic little black dress, which stops mid-thigh and has a sweetheart neckline with capped sleeves. The material is stretchy enough that it forgives the curves I developed after I stopped playing hockey. I bought it the year after Carter left, when I was determined to move on and start dating again.

It hasn’t seen much action.

“I haven’t worn this in years.” I sigh, holding the dress in front of me.

“You’re wearing it,” Abbie says with finality, and leaves the closet to let me get dressed. Sometimes I don’t know whether to love or hate how bossy she is.

When I come out of the closet five minutes later, dressed and toweling off my hair, Abbie gathers the mess of clothes from my bed and tosses everything back into the closet, leaving me to deal with the mess later. It’s not until she gets back that I get a look at her.

“Where did you get that?” My jaw drops. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit with a corset top and wide legs. Between the outfit, her sheet of glossy straight hair, and the sultry makeup with red lipstick, my friend looksfierce.

“I brought it.” She shrugs, then points to the bathroom where she’s pulled a chair in front of the mirror. “Let’s get your hair and makeup done.”

“I—you brought it? You mean youplannedto get me out tonight?” I wonder if she plotted with my mom about taking this weekend off as well. That scheming little?—

“Of course I did,” she rolls her eyes, “now come on, we don’t have all night.”

I can’t even be mad. Abbie always somehow knows exactly what I need.

An hour later, she has my hair dried and curled in soft waves that hit my shoulders, and smokey eye makeup that compliments my dark-nude lip gloss perfectly.

Part of me hopes I do run into Carter because I look damn good.

The other, more sensible part of me wants to forget about guys entirely for the evening, dancing and drinking until all thoughts of a certain tall, sexy, mouth-watering, left wing hockey player disappear.

“You’re a miracle worker, Abbs.”

“I’ll add it to my resume.” She winks at me in the mirror.

I settle on a pair of black pumps and some crescent moon earrings, twirling in front of the mirror with Abbie, excitement thrumming in my veins. Getting ready is always the worst part. Now that we’re actually about to leave, I’m giddy with the thought of letting loose for the night.

We take an Uber to the only popular bar in town, Danny’s, the bouncer nodding at us as we step out of the car. “Sophie. Abbie.”

“Hey, Henry,” I say, grinning, “turn away any high schoolers yet?”

“Not yet, but the night is still young.” He smirks.

Normally, Danny’s doesn’t have anyone checking ID’s at the entrance, but Saturdays can get crazy with high schoolers trying to pass for the legal drinking age. Stopping them at the door keeps the inside less chaotic.

“Let me know if you need backup,” Abbie calls over her shoulder as we pass by, and Henry barks a laugh.

Hanging our coats on the rack by the door, we make our way towards the bar. The music pumps through the speakers inside, so I barely hear Abbie when she mutters under her breath, “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

“What?” I whip my head around only to see Carter across the room at one of those tall standing tables with Jake Ashford, who I didn’t realize was also back in town. They both look good, but the sight of Carter almost makes my mouth water.

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