Page 9 of Faking It with the Forward

“Well, maybe next time you don’t get so wasted you can’t stay upright.”

“Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?” He squirts a stream of water into his mouth. “You should come to more of our parties.” His forehead screws up and he stares at me for a minute before saying, “And wear your hair down more. It looked good like that.”

Ignoring the hair comment, I retort, “Why? Because I hand-delivered a hot girl to you?” Nadia was home and in bed by midnight—a record for her. It’s a good sign she stuck to our deal.

He grins. “Nadiaishot, so thank you for that, but also because it’s pretty awesome to have a trained medical professional on hand.”

“Ah, I see.” I bring hot girlsandprovide medical attention. “Unfortunately, I don’t think my job description includes keggers, Wilder.”

“Just saying…open invitation,” his eyebrows waggle, “for youandyour friends.”

He hands me his bottle and skates off.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

At the sound of Reese’s voice, a weird sensation rolls down my spine. Our interaction the night before was tense and awkwardbeforeI blew off his nice gesture to walk me home and made the comment about not being afraid of the dark. Why did I say that? Even though he’s cocky as hell, it’s obvious he cares about his teammates, and by extension, that includes me.

“Ignore him,” he adds. “He knows you saved his ass last night. He just doesn’t know how to say thank you.”

I glance out at the ice. “I’m not worried about Reid.”

Guys like Reid don’t rattle me like Reese does. Reid’s a goofball–serious about hockey and having a good time. He’s too caught up in his own energy to focus on me, and I like that.

I wait for Reese to skate off, but he was the last one to come out of the locker room, and from the looks of it, he’s still not quite ready. He leans his stick against the wall and tugs at his gloves. Finally, I ask, “Do you need something? Water?”

“Just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”

“Ah, and they say chivalry is dead.” I start rearranging the water bottles just to give my hands something to do. “I made it home in one piece, just like I said.” And changed into comfortable clothing and binged a documentary on serial killers.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and out of habit I check.

Ruby: I heard you went to a party last night.

I roll my eyes. My mom tells my sistereverything.

“Problem?” he asks, eyebrows arched.

“No.” I shove the phone away. “It’s just my sister, being nosy as hell.”

He nods. “She’s older?”

“Yeah. She graduated last year from State and apparently has nothing better to do than to text me at 7 a.m. about my social life.”

“She sounds intense.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, focusing on the guys on the ice. The guys swarm around the area in front of the net, taking shots on Axel.

“Well,” he says, “you were right about your friend. She didn’t sleep with Reid.” Against my better judgment, I look over and see his helmet is askew on his head, not yet secured under his chin. His very sharp, chiseled chin. “Not for lack of trying on his part though.”

“Yeah, she was home pretty early.”

Reese snorts.

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Hooking up doesn’t only happen after midnight, you know that, right?”

The accusation of being naïve makes my cheeks burn. “Nadia has a pattern,” I tell him. “And coming home before midnight doesn’t fit it.”

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