Page 8 of The Fake Date Agreement

“You need to get out of your head,” Javier says. “That’s what this is. You are taking it too seriously.”

“It’s hockey. How the fuck am I supposed to take it?” I snarl.

“Nope. He needs to get laid.” Reid grins at Javier. “Casanova, you have to hook him up with one of the girls who likes to throw their panties at your head.”

Javier laughs. “That was one time, and I went home alone.”

“That can come after the big game. Once we’ve won,” I say, grabbing my stick.

Javier and Reid stare at me.

I can’t help but notice Reid mouthing each word as I spoke.

Have I really been saying it that often?

I open my mouth.

“This is important. It’s what we’ve all been working toward.” Javier drops his accent and deepens his voice, speaking with a gruffness that sounds familiar.

I glare at him. “I don’t sound like that.”

Javier claps me on the shoulder. “You sound exactly like that. Let’s go check out Casper and get out of here. I need a drink.”

“Maybe it’s an owl,” Reid says as we creep down the hallway.

“Anowl?”

“Yes, scoff at me for suggesting an owl got in the building, but eagerly embrace the possibility we might have a resident ghost in the arena.Thatmakes perfect sense,” Reid says sarcastically.

“You hear anything?” Javier whispers.

“No,” Reid whispers back. “Why are we whispering?”

Contractors closed off this entire section of the arena so they could remodel, ready for the championship game we’re hosting at the end of this semester. All the new sponsors are eager tothrow money at the team, wanting the arena to be perfect for a historic event when we win the championship after a seventy-year drought.

Ifwe win it.

No one should have been in this part of the stadium. Most of the lights are off, and security blocks this hallway every game day.

So what the fuck is making those strange noises?

A muffled, growling whimper comes from behind a closed restroom door.

My fingers curl around my stick, and I lift it, ready to swing. “You hear that?”

Now, I’m the one whispering. What the fuck happened to my ability to lead the team with a roar of,“Let’s do this, Wolverines!”

Javier gulps. “Heard it.”

I motion to the door with my stick. “Open it.”

Both of them twist to face me.

“Why me?” Reid demands.

“I have the stick, and I’m the captain. One of you push it open, and I’ll swing.”

Reid nods at Javier. “You do it, Jay. You’re wearing your lucky pants. I figure we need all the luck in the world not to get eaten.”

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