Bex: I was already nervous. Now, I’m even more freaked out.
Preston: Don’t sweat it.
Bex: I’ll try.
A few minutes pass where I attempt to come up with something clever. Instead, I try being myself. With Bex, I can relax, lower my guard. There’s something about her that sort of settles me, despite how anxious I am about making the wrong move.
Bex: Did you want something other than to tell me you’d like to see me naked?
Preston: I never said I want to see you naked.
But I do.
Bex: Your message implied it. Was there a point to texting me this late at night?
Preston: Late at night? It’s 10 PM. What are you 90? Sorry, Grams.
Bex: I’m tired from practice and school. You should be in bed, too. Your big game is tomorrow. Good luck, by the way.
Preston: I’d love to get in bed with you.
Bex: Parker, Parker… Peter Parker. You’re such a bad boy. Do you ever think with the right head?
I glance down at my growing erection and shake my head. Nope. Only the one that counts. I’m rock hard from talking to her. All I can think about is being balls-deep in Bex.
Preston: I never think straight when it comes to you.
Bex: My dad has rules. We’ve already broken one of them. On Saturday, we will technically break another one.
Preston: How many rules does he have?
Bex: Three
Preston: Have you broken them for anyone else?
Bex: Not for a long time…
Preston: What are they?
Bex: No talking to his players. No hanging out with his players. No dating his players.
Preston: I can guarantee you’ll never break the last one.
Dating is out of the question. I don’t have time for drama. This year is all about winning the Frozen Four again and being drafted into the NHL. I play hockey almost every day, and when I’m not, I work out. If anyone understands a collegiate athlete’s schedule, it’s Bex.
Bex: Yep. That will never happen. All we can ever be is friends.
Preston: I’ve never had a friend who’s a girl.
Bex: That’s because guys like you objectify women.
Preston: Not true.
Bex: Look at the first few messages you sent me and then tell me I’m wrong.
I do as she asks, now realizing my mistake. Instead of a joke, my message reads like a dirty pickup line. I’m surprised she’s even talking to me after what I said. Idiot.
Preston: You’re right. Sorry, Bex. I thought it was funny. Guess not.
Bex: Oh, I thought it was funny. I expect it from you. You’re all the same. This is why my dad has rules. To keep me away from guys like you.
Preston: I don’t want to stay away from you.
I stare at the screen in horror.
Why did I write that?
Because it’s true. I like Bex.
From the second she bumped into me in the locker room, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. Bex must be at a loss for words from my confession. Two minutes pass. Then another five. Still no response.
Shit. What did I just do?
Chapter Seven
Bex
The rink is packed. Not a seat left in the house. Almost everyone in the crowd is dressed in navy and white clothing—the colors of the Strickland Senators. Taylor sips from a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate, cradling it between her hands.
“It’s freezing in here,” she whines. “How can you stand it?”
I glance down at my short-sleeved tee and jeans and shrug. “I’m used to it. The cold doesn’t bother me anymore.”
She snickers. “I’m so cold my nipples are poking a hole through my bra. I could hurt someone with these suckers.”
I shush her, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one can hear her. “Would you lower your voice? You have no filter in public.”
“Who cares? I don’t know anyone here.”
“Yeah, but I do. My dad is the coach, remember?”
Taylor blows on her hands to warm them. “You’re nervous about tonight. Because of… you know who. I’m with you. It’ll be okay.”
She’s referring to Kellan Lehane. He’s down the ice from us, practicing with his team. I haven’t been this close to him since high school. I’ve intentionally skipped the Boston College games for the past three years because of him.
“I’m fine,” I promise, even though I’m ready to jump out of my skin from being in the same building as that animal. “I can handle seeing him after all this time,” I lie. “This game is important to my dad. I didn’t want to miss his first game as head coach.”
I grind my teeth, forced to watch Kellan’s cocky ass skate across the ice. He commits an illegal check without the refs noticing. Asshole. He got away with murder back in high school, and he still does. The sight of him makes me sick to my stomach. So, I do my best to ignore him, pretend he doesn’t exist.