Page 32 of Ice Bet

One text message.

They were all from Ford.

There was commotion out in the hallway, and I knew it was him before his voice sounded on the other side of the door.

“Aasher, quit fucking a puck bunny and get out here.”

Liv drew in a sharp breath. “I am not a puck bunny!”

I peeked over at her, and my lips flattened.She kind of was.

“Aasher! A puck bunny is when a girl is with multiple hockey players. Not just one!”

Ford opened the door and looked directly at Liv. “Look up the definition of a puck bunny, babe. You’re one whether you want to admit it or not.”

She angrily pulled her messy hair up in a bun. “Shut up, Ford. Bye, Aasher.”

“Uh, later.”

She stomped out of the bedroom, and I shot Ford a look. “Really?”

“Her feelings are theleastof your worries right now.”Trust me, I fucking know.

I bent down and snatched the condom wrapper and threw it in a small trash can near the dresser. “What is it?”

I didn’t even need to ask. I already knew.

“Riley is here.”

“Great.” I sighed.“When did she show up?”

Ford walked beside me, nearly skipping. “When you were dick-deep in the puck bunny.”

“Quit calling her that. It’s degrading.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

When we got to the top of the stairs, he put his hand on my chest, stopping me. “You’re gonna need to prepare yourself.”

My heart raced. “Why?”

“Because whoever just walked in with Sutton isn’t the Riley Lennon that we all know as Duster.”

The moment my feet hit the bottom of the stairs and I looked out onto the dance floor, I cursed. The last time I spoke to Riley, I told her she was acting like a child, and right now, she looked anythingbut.

12

RILEY

The lackof bra made my boobs itchy. But it was nothing a shot of Fireball couldn’t lessen.

Sutton dressed me, and if my father saw my outfit, he’d have a heart attack.

I looked hot, even with my leather jacket on, and by the slacked jaws of some of the guys in the room, they thought so too.

Some of the rumors at Rosewood suggested that I had self-image issues because of how slender I became right before my last competition, but that wasn’t technically the reason I had developed an eating disorder. It had nothing to do with how I looked and all to do with how I performed.

Still, it was nerve-racking to walk into a party dressed likethis.

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