HER: You played hockey all day and now you’re going to watch hockey all night?
ME: Got a problem with that?
HER: You need a life.
ME: I have one. It’s called hockey.
ITYPE A FOLLOW UP, BUT HESITATION RIPPLES THROUGH ME.My fingers hover over theSENDbutton. I can still taste her on my lips, and I’m afraid to be around her again.
But we’re friends. If I actively avoid her after one kiss, what the hell kind of friend am I?
I hitSEND.
ME: Wanna come?
She clearly struggles with her own moment of hesitation, because she takes equally long to respond.
HER: Sure? Anyone else coming or is it just us?
ME: Just us. Unless you want me to invite Conor…?
Is there a font forsnide? I’m fully aware that nothing happened between them last night, but watching Con flirt with her still grated. And Demi was flirting back. She’d mauled me in the bathroom and then gone off with my teammate and took a tequila shot off his abs.
Although in her defense, I’d all but shoved her into Conor’s arms by pretending I couldn’t care less what she did with him.
HER: Invite whoever you want. I’ll Uber to your place so you don’t have to make the drive to campus. It just started snowing.
Demi shows up forty-five minutes later, bundled up in her parka, gloves and a bright-green scarf. I’m guessing her favorite color is green, because she wears it frequently. It looks good on her. Brings out the flecks of amber in her dark brown eyes.
“So who’s this friend we’re meeting?” she asks as I flick on the windshield defroster in the Rover.
She was right about it snowing, but sadly it’s only light flurries. Nothing’s sticking to the ground, and I find myself wondering if winter might skip New England altogether this year. So far we’ve received only one major snowfall and it all melted away by themorning. If we don’t get a white Christmas, I’m going to be bummed. It’s the only thing that makes the holidays in Connecticut bearable.
“Dean Di Laurentis,” I answer. “He’s a former teammate, graduated a couple years ago. Oh, and he’s Summer’s brother.”
“Eek. Does that mean he’s as…dramatic as Summer?” Her tone is the epitome of tactful.
“Nah, he’s definitely more chill. They could be twins, though.”
For once, Demi lets me listen to my own music library during the ride. I think we’re both remembering what happened the last time we used her Bluetooth. Still, she makes sure to skip any song she can’t dance to or doesn’t know the words to.
Neither of us brings up the kiss. I’m thinking about it, though. I wonder if she is. I sneak glances at her, but she’s too busy singing along or bopping her sexy torso to the beat. She’s the cutest fucking thing and I want to kick myself for rejecting her.
Dean’s girls are playing at a community center near Chestnut Hill. The parking lot is surprisingly packedandcosts twenty bucks to enter. I can afford it, but it’s the principle of the matter.
“Twentybucks,” I mutter under my breath as we get out of the Rover. “That is a travesty.”
“You’re a travesty.”
Snickering, I check my phone to read an incoming text from Dean.
DEAN: G and Logan are here too. Behind my bench.
Huh, really? How are they swingingthat? Garrett is one of the most recognizable hockey players in the country. Last time I saw him, he admitted he scarcely goes out anymore because he’s constantly getting recognized. Logan is in his rookie season, so he can probably still maintain a low profile, but G’s the star of the team.
When we arrive at our seats, I discover that the two Boston players are terrible at disguises. They’ve opted for baseball caps, andGarrett’s wearing a pair of square hipster glasses on the bridge of his nose.
I burst out laughing. “Fake glasses? Seriously?”