Page 46 of Puck Block

Ford shows Emory something on his phone, and I watch my brother’s shoulders drop. They fist bump, and I watch them closely. Our table fills up quickly with some more hockey players and puck bunnies, along with some of my sorority sisters, and then several heaping plates of French fries are placed in the middle.

Everyone reaches forward to take bites in between talking about the game and the after-party at Rush’s. Angie comes backto our table and places a plate in front of me—and no one else. “Here.” I stare at a personal pizza that's topped with leafy green vegetables. “It’s thin crust, so hardly any carbs. I used to make it for my dad.”

We share a quick smile, but hers disappears before she slaps Ford’s hand with her waitressing notepad. “Hands off.”

“Angie,”he chides. “I am your best customer. Come on!”

She tips her chin toward me. “Well, I like her better, and she’s prettier than you.”

Ford throws his hands up but finishes with a nod. “I’ll accept that.”

I pull my plate in closer and stick my tongue out at Ford. He zeroes in on my mouth, and I swear, time stops. We’re both frozen, whereas everyone else is carrying on with their fry grabbing and conversations. A swallow rolls down his neck with a little flare of his eye, and it's obvious that we’re boththinking about what happened last night.

I cross my legs under the table, push away the thought of his hands roaming all over my body and the way he took me captive with the world’s hottest kiss, and go back to eating my pizza.

“You going to Rush’s?” Claire asks.

“No,” Emory answers for me, and I glare at him from across the table. Ford is buried in his phone beside him, which is unusual. Emory looks to Ford’s phone for a second too long and then moves his attention back to me. “She’s going to go home.”

“Why are you like this?” I ask the same question I’ve been asking him since the moment I grew boobs. He has yet to answer me.

Emory looks at my arm. “Have you checked your monitor since you hit it?”

I look around the table, thankful no one is really paying attention. “Yes…” Emory and Ford catch eyes, and I scrutinize their shared look.

“Okay…” I push myself back into the booth. “What are y’all up to?”

I refuse to let last night deter me from staring across the table at Ford. If one of them is going to break, it’ll be him. “Ford?”

His jaw flexes, and he glances away.

“I hate you both.” I nudge Claire with my elbow and climb out of the booth. The crowd parts, and I can’t even be bothered with saying goodbye to anyone because I’m too in my head about Emory’s and Ford’s side glances.

They’re up to something, or they’re keeping something from me.

My phone buzzes, and I expect it to be Claire, but I groan the second I see the name Walker.

Walker: If you don’t come back, I’m eating your pizza.

I send him a middle-finger emoji and change his name back to Ford.

Ford: Get back in here.

Me: I’m going home.

Ford: You’re walking? After dark? Wearing those tight jeans? Not a chance.

Me: I’ll come back in when you tell me what you and Emory are keeping from me.

I nibble on my lower lip and wait for his response.

Ford: He found out about last night.

I drop my phone like it’s on fire. My heart falls to the snowy ground and lands right beside my phone. I turn and peer through the foggy Bex window.There’s no way.Emory would kill Ford, even if Ford told him it meant nothing.

After sweeping my phone off the ground, I quickly type a message.

Me: Tell me the truth, or I’ll make sure Emory actually does find out about last night.

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