Page 105 of The Play

He smirks. “Worked, didn’t it? You did a double take.”

“Not because I didn’t recognize you—because you look stupid.”

Logan snickers.

I introduce them to Demi, who, thanks to her complete ignorance of the sport, doesn’t make a big fuss over them.

“Are Hannah or Grace coming?” I ask. I hope the answer’s yes, because it would be nice if Demi had some chicks to chat with during the game. I doubt she’ll pay a lick of attention to what’s happening on the ice.

“Gracie’s writing a paper,” Logan replies. “She wanted to get it done before winter break so she doesn’t have to work over the holidays.”

“And Hannah’s still at the studio,” Garrett says. “She said she’d try to meet up with us afterward, if we go out anywhere. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, Hunter’s been super busy,” Demi answers for me. “He got arrested, got his ass kicked…busy busy bee.”

Logan snorts. “I didn’t want to ask about your lip, but now that the subject’s been brought up…”

“My ex-boyfriend beat him up,” Demi informs him. “I take full responsibility for it.”

“Yeah, and you should take full responsibility for the jail thing, too,” I say in accusation.

“You’rethe one who made me wear the big hoops!”

“This is confusing to me,” Garrett says frankly.

We don’t get a chance to elaborate—Dean just spotted us and he’s slapping a palm on the Plexiglass to say hello.

“That’s Dean,” I tell Demi, who for once is speechless.

“Oh,” she finally remarks. “Wow.”

I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s insanely attractive.”

“Yeah, and he knows it,” Garrett says with a sigh.

The first period kicks off, Dean’s army of fourteen-year-olds taking the ice. The puck drops, and the center wins the faceoff, deking out two opponents before passing to one of her defense-women. Dean’s girls are good. Very, very good. The refs, on the other hand, are hot garbage.

“What the hell was that?!” Logan shouts, flying to his feet. “They were offsides!”

On the bench, Dean is red-faced from outrage. “Offsides!” he thunders, but the ref merely skates past him.

“Lord, he’s even beautiful when he’s angry,” Demi breathes. “Guys, how are you not acknowledging this?”

“We lived with him for four years,” Garrett says dryly. “We’re well aware of his appeal.”

“Do you think life is different when you’re that attractive?”

I lean over to pinch her side. “We should askyouthat. You’re the supermodel.”

“Aw, thanks, Monk.”

“Monk?” Garrett echoes.

“Because he’s celibate,” Demi clarifies.

G grins. “That’s still going on?”

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