Page 30 of Faking It with the Forward

Reluctantly, I agree. Nadia isn’t the most reliable person. She’s terrible at communicating and answering texts. I’d feel better if Ruby was getting the tickets, but I’m just going to have to trust that Nadia won’t screw this up.

I nurse my beer while Nadia and Reid empty the pitcher. Next to me, Reese sticks to his one drink limit, a self-imposed rule he put on himself for the season. His dedication is impressive and as someone busting my ass to help the team, I appreciate it.

Another thing? He sticks by me all night, even when a steady stream of teammates stop by to ask him to play a game of pool or various girls linger to flirt, just like he promised.

“Hey,” I say when Reid gets up for a refill. “Can I get out? I need to use the restroom.”

“Sure.” He slides out of the booth, then takes my hand to help me scoot out. He bends down and asks, “Want a chaperone?”

“I think I can handle it.” I lock eyes with Nadia. “Y’all stay here so we don’t lose the table.”

Shockingly, there’s no line for the bathroom, although two girls, clones of one another with stick-straight hair and tops with plunging necklines, stand at the mirror applying makeup. One I recognize from stopping by the table to talk to Reese and Reid. The girl from the party. Ginna, I think.

When I come out of the stall, they’re still there.

“Hey,” one says, as I squeeze between them to wash my hands. “You’re the girl from Reese’s Chattysnap, right?”

“I guess.”

I pump the soap and lather up.

“And you came here with him tonight?”

“To meet up with some friends.” Why I add this, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way they’re both looking at me. Like I stole their pet.

I turn off the faucet and grab a paper towel.

“Well, if he takes you home, let me give you a little tip.” She faces me. With all the makeup and the boobs and the confidence, I feel like I’m talking to some older, wiser woman, when rationally I know we’re the same age. She leans forward, her perfume wafting, thick and oily. “He loves it when you bite the head a little bit. Just a little nibble.”

“Okay,” I say, heat rising to my cheeks. “Good to know. Thanks.”

I don’t miss the sound of their laughter as I rush out. Because although I told Reese earlier I know everything about him, I realize it’s not true. I definitely didn’t knowthat.

Just outside the door I slam straight into a brick wall.

A wall with tattooed hands.

“What you running from, TG?” Axel Rakestraw’s hands are wrapped around my upper arms, holding me upright. He peers behind me just as the bathroom door opens and Ginna and the other girl walk out. “Ah, vipers.”

“Come on, let’s get a drink.”

I follow him, only because I don’t want another run-in with those girls.

“Two shots of…” he looks from the bartender to me, “…what’s your poison? Tequila? Jack? Fireball?”

“Something sweet?” I ask.

“Jäger,” he orders, leaning on the bar.

He’s a little shorter than Reese, but he’s got the wingspan of an Olympic swimmer. All the better for blocking the goal. His white-blonde hair sticks out like a devilish halo, and dark tattoos peek out from the neck of his shirt.

“You gotta ignore girls like that,” he says, nodding over to where Ginna now has her body plastered up against Pete. “You intimidate the fuck out of them.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Across the room, Pete stares at her tits like a deer in headlights. Fuck, now I’m staring at her tits. “No one intimidates a girl like that.”

The bartender pours the two shots and pushes them over. Axel hands me one and lifts his.

“Girls like you do, the kind that wears comfortable clothes, looks hot while doing it, and spends her time pursuing a career, not trying to fuck the entire hockey team.”

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