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.”