Although in her defense, I’d all but shoved her into Conor’s arms by pretending I couldn’t care less what she did with him.
HER: Invite whoever you want. I’ll Uber to your place so you don’t have to make the drive to campus. It just started snowing.
Demi shows up forty-five minutes later, bundled up in her parka, gloves and a bright-green scarf. I’m guessing her favorite color is green, because she wears it frequently. It looks good on her. Brings out the flecks of amber in her dark brown eyes.
“So who’s this friend we’re meeting?” she asks as I flick on the windshield defroster in the Rover.
She was right about it snowing, but sadly it’s only light flurries. Nothing’s sticking to the ground, and I find myself wondering if winter might skip New England altogether this year. So far we’ve received only one major snowfall and it all melted away by the morning. If we don’t get a white Christmas, I’m going to be bummed. It’s the only thing that makes the holidays in Connecticut bearable.
“Dean Di Laurentis,” I answer. “He’s a former teammate, graduated a couple years ago. Oh, and he’s Summer’s brother.”
“Eek. Does that mean he’s as…dramatic as Summer?” Her tone is the epitome of tactful.
“Nah, he’s definitely more chill. They could be twins, though.”
For once, Demi lets me listen to my own music library during the ride. I think we’re both remembering what happened the last time we used her Bluetooth. Still, she makes sure to skip any song she can’t dance to or doesn’t know the words to.
Neither of us brings up the kiss. I’m thinking about it, though. I wonder if she is. I sneak glances at her, but she’s too busy singing along or bopping her sexy torso to the beat. She’s the cutest fucking thing and I want to kick myself for rejecting her.
Dean’s girls are playing at a community center near Chestnut Hill. The parking lot is surprisingly packed and costs twenty bucks to enter. I can afford it, but it’s the principle of the matter.
“Twenty bucks,” I mutter under my breath as we get out of the Rover. “That is a travesty.”
“You’re a travesty.”
Snickering, I check my phone to read an incoming text from Dean.
DEAN: G and Logan are here too. Behind my bench.
Huh, really? How are they swinging that? Garrett is one of the most recognizable hockey players in the country. Last time I saw him, he admitted he scarcely goes out anymore because he’s constantly getting recognized. Logan is in his rookie season, so he can probably still maintain a low profile, but G’s the star of the team.
When we arrive at our seats, I discover that the two Boston players are terrible at disguises. They’ve opted for baseball caps, and Garrett’s wearing a pair of square hipster glasses on the bridge of his nose.
I burst out laughing. “Fake glasses? Seriously?”
He smirks. “Worked, didn’t it? You did a double take.”
“Not because I didn’t recognize you—because you look stupid.”
Logan snickers.
I introduce them to Demi, who, thanks to her complete ignorance of the sport, doesn’t make a big fuss over them.
“Are Hannah or Grace coming?” I ask. I hope the answer’s yes, because it would be nice if Demi had some chicks to chat with during the game. I doubt she’ll pay a lick of attention to what’s happening on the ice.
“Gracie’s writing a paper,” Logan replies. “She wanted to get it done before winter break so she doesn’t have to work over the holidays.”
“And Hannah’s still at the studio,” Garrett says. “She said she’d try to meet up with us afterward, if we go out anywhere. What have you been up to?”
“Oh, Hunter’s been super busy,” Demi answers for me. “He got arrested, got his ass kicked…busy busy bee.”
Logan snorts. “I didn’t want to ask about your lip, but now that the subject’s been brought up…”
“My ex-boyfriend beat him up,” Demi informs him. “I take full responsibility for it.”
“Yeah, and you should take full responsibility for the jail thing, too,” I say in accusation.
“You’re the one who made me wear the big hoops!”
“This is confusing to me,” Garrett says frankly.
We don’t get a chance to elaborate—Dean just spotted us and he’s slapping a palm on the Plexiglass to say hello.
“That’s Dean,” I tell Demi, who for once is speechless.
“Oh,” she finally remarks. “Wow.”
I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’s insanely attractive.”
“Yeah, and he knows it,” Garrett says with a sigh.