She nods, a tiny smile stretching across her lips.
“I wish you hadn’t spent all of that money on Julian,” I admit. “He’s not worth it.”
“That’s not what you said two years ago,” she challenges.
I snort at her comment. “Two years ago, I was delusional and under his spell. Now that I’ve woken up from my Julian-induced coma, I’m now in jock therapy and no longer capable of falling for another bad boy hockey player.”
“You were in love with him, Bri. And I’m pretty sure he was in love with you, too. You didn’t see the way he looked at you. The way he still looks at you.”
“I feel nothing for Julian Rivers,” I lie. “Nothing but hatred.”
“Please, for the love of God and all that is holy, have fun this weekend. Don’t kill Julian or anyone else. And make sure you borrow something cute from my closet.” She says the last part with a wide grin. “You’re going to do great. Don’t get nervous. Julian still likes you, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. Everything will work itself out.”
I force a smile more for her benefit than mine. “Is the no killing Julian rule a hard and fast one, or can I break it in case of emergency?”
She shakes her head, her long hair falling in front of her eyes. In one swift motion, she does one of those hair flips you see in conditioner commercials. Her movements are so effortless as if they teach that in school. How do women do that? It’s like some women are born with it. I tried to do that once when I was dating Julian. He thought I was having a seizure with how awkward I made the simple gesture look. After he tried to take me to the hospital, we laughed for an hour, and then he kissed every inch of my body until I couldn’t remember why we were laughing so hard. It was one of the best nights of my life.
“Yes, it’s a hard rule,” Sadie says. “Try to have fun. It wouldn’t kill you. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that’s a short list,” I deadpan.
Before she can respond, her cell phone rings. Sadie mutters a few uh-huh’s and then says, “Nooo…. don’t do that.” Gripping her phone, she glances over at me and whispers, “My cousin is acting like Bridezilla. She needs me to talk her off the ledge. You cool with meeting me in class?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I wave her off, and she rushes out of the cafeteria.
After I dispose of our trays, I head for the exit. I have fifteen minutes until the start of my next class and then off to work. Professor Connors is a real stickler about time. I learned the hard way. Her watch is set two minutes and twelve seconds ahead of my watch, and she goes by her time when it comes to her class. I could have lost my scholarship over her stupid rules.
As I adjust the bag over my shoulder, someone tugs on it from behind me. I spin around, about to smack their arm off me, when my eyes meet Julian’s. My mouth is twisted into an angry scowl that doesn’t go away with his adorable smile… or the cute dimple that pops in his cheek whenever he laughs or smiles.
“I’m gonna be late for class.” I shake him off. “What do you want?”
He sighs. “Are you ever going to stop being so hostile?”
I give him a fake smile. “No. Any more questions?”
“I wanted to tell you my driver is picking you up on Friday.”
I shift the bag on my shoulder and take a few steps back from him. His manly scent is so intoxicating, so delicious, that when it fills my nostrils I can’t get enough of it. And that’s bad. Because I can’t do this again with Julian.
“That’s okay, Richie Rich. I can walk across campus by myself. I don’t need a ride. But thanks for the offer.”
“Look, Bri, I’m trying to be nice.” His expression softens. “Why are you making this so much harder than it has to be?”
“We could just skip the date altogether if you don’t like my attitude.” I shrug, holding my hands in the air. “How about that? Then, we can both go our separate ways and pretend like none of this ever happened.”
He crosses his arms over his thick chest, ticking his jaw. “No, I don’t want to do that.”
The timer on my cell phone goes off in my pocket, which sends a bolt of energy rushing throughout my body. “I have to go.”
I turn my back, ignoring him as I walk away.
“This conversation isn’t over,” he yells from behind me.
I laugh, waving to Julian as I shuffle down the stairs of the Student Activity Center to get to class.
Chapter Eight
Briana
With thirty minutes to spare before the game, I rush across campus. Shuffling past droves of students wearing navy-and-white shirts and jerseys, I follow the ebb and flow to the hockey rink. Once I reach the event center, I hand my ticket to a man wearing a navy Strickland Senators polo shirt. He scans the bar code and hands it back to me, telling me to enjoy the game. If only he knew I was forced to be here. I have no desire to watch a hockey game after working all day. And I especially have no desire to see Julian, of all people.
I follow the crowd to my section, all the while my heart pounds out of my chest. The adrenaline courses through my veins, igniting a fire under my skin. I double-check my ticket. My seat is in the front row, off to the side of the Senators bench. His back to me, their coach leans over the edge of the box, the whistle around his neck rested between his teeth. He waves the players over.
I scan the ice for Julian. It’s not hard to find the number twenty-three. How could I ever forget his number? I wore tons of his shirts and even replicas of his jersey when I was his girlfriend.
Shannon raises her hand and waves it back and forth when she sees me coming toward her. I return the gesture.
“Hey, thanks for flagging me down.”
“You looked lost,” Shannon says.
“It’s been a while since I’ve come to a hockey game.”
I glance down at the seat number on my ticket and let out a relieved sigh, taking my space next to Shannon. Sam is on her left.
Sam leans forward, digging her elbows into her thighs, and smiles. “Hey, you. Funny seeing you here, huh?”
I laugh at her comment. “I know, right? This is the last place I ever expected to be on a Friday night.”
Shannon rests her arm between us, leaving me nowhere to move.
“Seats in this arena suck,” I mutter. “They don’t give you any space.”
“All sporting events are like this,” Shannon says. “They pack too many chairs into one place.”
“Greedy bastards,” I quip.
A girl on the other side of Sam with long blonde hair points at me. “I know you. Briana Bloom, right? You dated Julian a few years ago.”
I force a smile. “Yep, that’s me.”
I haven’t talked to Bex Bryant since I broke up with Julian. She’s the ice hockey coach’s daughter and pretty down-to-earth from what I remember. We sat next to each at some of the home games.
“So, are you two a thing again?” Bex says with genuine curiosity on her face.
Just get right to it, why don’t you? This girl doesn’t waste time.
“No, I’m just fulfilling my end of the obligation.”
“You make it sound like dating Julian is a bad thing,” Shannon says.
“It is,” I admit. “Been there, done that. Got that T-shirt and want to send it back.”
Shannon laughs.
“So, what happened at the auction?” Bex leans over to look down the row at me. “What did I miss? How did you end up with Julian if you hate him so much?”
“Well, I accidentally won a date with him. I dropped my paddle, and my friend picked it up. The auctioneer thought she was bidding on him for me. That’s why I’m here tonight. This is part of our date.”
“How romantic? Way to go, Julian.” Sam chuckles. “You stay classy, San Diego.”
I laugh at her reference to the movie Anchorman. Bex and Shannon miss the reference, which makes it even funnier. After working with Sam for the last year, we just click. We’ve always gotten each oth
er.
“Are you coming to the house after the game?” Bex asks.
“You totally should,” Shannon says. “I made vodka shooters with strawberries in them. Jamie flipped out when he tasted them and so did the rest of the guys.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have to try one. And yeah, I promised Julian I would come to the party. If I have to go through with this date, I might as well commit to it, right?”
Bex gives me a weird look, one I can’t place. She has no idea what to make of me. Most of the girls on campus would kill to be sitting in my seat right now. But she’s not the type to chase after hockey players, so I’m surprised the look is coming from her. Whatever. The girlfriends of Julian’s teammates can judge me all they want.
When I glance over my shoulder and into the stands, I spot a few girls already looking at me, burning a hole through my back with their intense stares. The girls are way overdressed for a hockey game, with full faces of makeup and clothes fit for a frat party.
“What’s their problem?” I ask Shannon.
Sam answers. “They’re the hockey hookers, or puck bunnies, whatever you want to call them. They want our men, so naturally, they’re the enemy.”
Unlike the girls behind us, I opted for a black and white flannel shirt rolled up to my elbows, with a white tank underneath paired with boyfriend jeans with intentional rips in the knees. I picked them up at a second-hand store on my way home from work. When I put the jeans on, they spoke to me. I had to spend the whopping fifteen dollars for them, even though I technically can’t afford them. But they’re like an extension of my pajama pants and so comfortable I could sleep in them.
“They come to all of the home games knowing the guys are already taken?”
“Not all of them are,” Shannon says. “I mean, Drake’s still single.”
“No, he’s not,” Bex shoots back so fast it shocks me. “Taylor would cut a bitch if they even looked at him.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath, not sure if I should laugh or cringe at her comment. “So, how many of the guys are still single?”
“Not many,” Shannon says. “I’m with Jamie. Sam is with Tuck. Jemma’s preggers with Trent’s baby.”
“Is she running late?”
“No, she’s not coming. Morning sickness is kicking her ass. She’s sitting this one out.”
“Bex is with Preston,” she finishes. “I guess Drake and Taylor are a legit thing now. I thought they were just messing around. My bad.” She says it rolling her eyes. “Killian Kade is with Jade now. So, I guess that leaves Julian Rivers, Cole Harker, Damon Knox, and Ryan Nash.”
“There are only ten players on their team?”
“No, there’s more, but I only listed the ones anyone cares about. They’re the best players on the team, or at least the ones I know, anyway.”
“I’m so glad you guys are here tonight,” I confess. “I was sweating bullets over this date until I found out you and Sam were coming.”
“I don’t normally come to games,” Sam says. “I told Tuck I’ll only come to one game for every Harry Potter book he reads.”
“How many has he read?”
“So far, only The Sorcerer’s Stone.”
I laugh. “This is your first game, then.”
She nods, long blond hair falling in front of her eyes. “And it will be my last until after he finishes reading The Chamber of Secrets.”
Sam’s a mega Potterhead. She wears a lot of green Slytherin shirts beneath her Broad Street Beans polo shirt. And on occasion, she sports necklaces and bracelets with snakes on them. She’s weird but cool. I love Harry Potter but not to the same extreme as Sam. Her love is more like an obsession.
“I love that book,” I confess.
“Not you, too,” Shannon groans.
“What’s wrong with Harry?”
“Nothing. Sam’s been bugging me to read the books, too. But she doesn’t have anything to bribe me with to get me to read them.”
“You should at least try one. I guarantee you’ll be hooked.”
“See,” Sam says with a bright smile. “At least one of you gets it.”
After the game begins, Bex starts shouting what I assume are plays. Honestly, I have no idea. She could be speaking Spanish, and I would have no idea. Julian never talked much about hockey when we dated. We spent most of our time binge-watching movies and making out. Sam flips through her phone, and I’m pretty sure she’s reading a book. Shannon looks interested but confused. This is an interesting group. I bet the hockey hookers know what’s going on.
I watch the game but give up after a while. The jerseys for both teams are so similar I can’t tell them apart. I have no idea which is the home team. Bored, I follow Sam’s good idea and open an app on my cell phone. I borrowed this creepy thriller from the library last week. I have a few more days left until I have to return it.
Midway through the first chapter, I’m so engrossed in the story that I jump when Shannon taps me on the shoulder.
“What’s up?”
Laughing, she extends a long, pink nail in front of my face. I follow her finger, and my expression darkens when I see Julian with his gloved hand pressed against the glass.
“Ugh, why is he calling attention to me?”
“He likes you,” Shannon says.
“I bet the hockey hookers are loving this,” I whisper low enough for Shannon to hear.
She chuckles. “They probably think he’s waving to them.”
“Oh, right.” I laugh even harder. “That’s awesome.”
Julian’s smile reaches up to his emerald irises that are so bright under the house lights. I hate how my heart leaps from my chest when the dimple I love creases his tanned cheek. When we were together, I would dig my finger into the tiny crevice, which would only make Julian laugh harder.
We did that a lot. Laughed. Talked. Watched movies and did normal shit. We were good together. Despite our differences in our upbringings, we had a lot in common. And now that I’m forced to be around him again, I’m reliving the parts of our old lives I loved so much. This can’t happen. Not now or ever. That ship has sailed.
Julian raises his hand to wave, and I feel like a mega-bitch for remaining stoic, staring at him like he’s about to turn into a pumpkin. Maybe he will. Wouldn’t that be nice? Then, I won’t have to go to his house after the game. I won’t have to spend another second looking at his sexy lips or the cocky smirks that grace them. I won’t have to still my heart every time he laughs or casually touches my arm. He always does that.
But I can’t.
I won’t allow it.
My heart can’t handle the stress again.
I can only take so much shit.
After Julian skates away, Shannon leans over my armrest. “Maybe you two will get back together.”
I shake my head and leave it at that.
Thankfully, she doesn’t ask any more questions about Julian and my current or previous relationship with him. She cheers on her boyfriend, who waves to her as he skates past us down the ice. I get lost in the sea of jerseys. With Penn State wearing the same colors as Strickland University, it’s hard to spot the Senators from the Nittany Lions. If not for the announcer clarifying which team scored, I would be super lost.
Bex yells when another goal horn sounds throughout the arena. She raises her arms above her head and waves them in the air with a bright smile plastered on her face. The crowd goes wild, people cheering and chanting for the home team. I forgot how electric sporting events are on campus.
Shannon bumps her elbow into mine, sending a jolt of pain up my arm. “Julian scored again,” she says. “He’s one goal away from a hat trick.”
A what trick?
I rub the ache in my elbow, cupping it with my hand. “Yeah, that’s great.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
Note to self: Google hat trick.
A few minutes later, one of the teams score again, though I have no idea which one, seeing as I s
till can’t tell the difference between the players’ jerseys. But it becomes clear when the announcer says Julian’s name over the loudspeaker. He’s responsible for the goal this time. People are screaming. The announcer is shouting something over them. It’s a mess of lights and sounds and obnoxiousness that’s making me claustrophobic.
“He did it,” Shannon shouts in my ear.
“Who did what?” I’m so damn confused.
Shannon doesn’t hear me.
Seconds later, ball caps, shirts, and random shit are thrown in the air. What the hell is wrong with these people? Julian’s teammates crowd around him, taking turns slapping each other’s backs and the tops of their helmets. The second my eyes meet Julian’s I smile. I wish I knew what a hat trick meant. That would make this a little more exciting for me.
But before I can process the look he’s giving me, or the tiny bumps it causes to dot my arms, something hits me hard on the side of my head like a Mac truck driving into my skull. The entire room starts spinning, my stomach turning in the process. I blink a few times to clear the blurry black dots clouding my vision.
“Briana, oh, my God,” Shannon says in my ear the second before I lose consciousness.
Chapter Nine
Briana
When I open my eyes, my head is pounding. There’s a thick blanket beneath me, the fabric somewhat scratchy against my skin. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, which is too dry to form saliva. I blink a few times, the fluorescent lights above my head blinding me.
“She’s awake.” His voice sounds familiar, but I’m too groggy to place it. “Doc, get over here.”
His arrogance reminds me of someone. And I know before I roll over onto my side that I will see Julian staring down at me.
“What the…” In addition to Julian, three more broad-shouldered men with muscles bulging from everywhere are looking down at me—Knox, Nash, and Harker. Of course, they are by his side.
“Briana, I’m Dr. Carter,” an older man with grayish black hair says, stepping into my blurred vision. “Do you know what happened?”
Most Desirable Player Page 6
