I frown. “Yeah, but you can have that with anyone. I don’t do this kind of thing. This isn’t me.” I clutch my purse.
Those intense grey eyes spear me, cooling from molten steel to a wintry stormy color. “I see.”
My eyes dart around the room. “Look, it was nice to meet you and I hope you have a good hockey season—”
He scowls deeply, looking affronted. “A good hockey season? What the hell?”
He can’t believe I’m cutting him loose.
I pivot and bolt for the door.
“Wait a minute,” he calls from behind me, his tone urgent as he flounders around for his jacket on the floor. “I don’t even know your last name.”
I exit the bathroom and fight my way through the crowd, jostling past people, some of them the same girls who gave me hateful looks. I do a double take when I see one of the wingers—his brother, I think—because they look incredibly similar. He gives me a surprised look then glances past me, and I assume he sees Zack following me. Go faster, Sugar. I practically mow people down as I dash down the stairs and plow through the dance floor. Finally, I push through the exit, the biting cold air on my still tingling skin, fresh from his hands on my body.
I run through the parking lot like a madwoman, feeling one part crazy for leaving him and another part terrified he’ll come after me and change my mind.
He has a girl of the month, for God’s sake!
The metal clang of the door opening and closing reaches my ears as I slide into my beat-up Toyota Tundra.
I tear out of the parking lot and head for campus. One glance in my rearview mirror shows him standing in the parking lot, a Viking in the snow.
Taller than a Georgia pine, I hear my mama say, and even though I’m freaking out because shit, I just had sex with Zack Morgan in a bathroom at a frat house, an anxious giggle slips through my lips.
7
Zack
It’s the same dream. Even as it unfolds in my head, I want to comfort myself, to let my racing heart know it isn’t real.
I’m lying in the snow staring up at the sky. The blackness above me is vast and bottomless, and for a moment, I’m afraid it will swallow me whole. Reece is next to me and tells me I can’t change anything.
Off in the distance Willow calls my name, and Reece gets up and leaves to go get her. There’s sadness in his eyes.
The scene switches and Willow is in a white dress at a party. She’s holding herself, arms wrapped around her shoulders. I want to be with her, but I need time, just a little distance to fix the mess in my heart. She leaves the party and drives her convertible on a wet road. Her fists beat on the steering wheel, and I know who she’s cursing.
Me. God, it’s me.
“No, no, no, no…” I whisper. “Start all over. Go back.”
But she doesn’t.
She plummets off the side of the road, breaking through the guardrail and plunging into darkness. Her screams echo—
“Fuck!” I sit up straight in the bed, my heart jumping. Deep breaths rack my body, and I swing my legs around and plant my feet on the floor. “Goddammit,” I mutter, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.
My chest aches and I rub it, fighting to get my heart back on track. My hands tremble as I rake them through my hair.
I hate waking up like this.
You deserve it, a voice says.
“Stop!” I yell as I jump up and scrub at my face. Shit. I hate these dreams. They don’t happen often, but when they do, it fucks with my whole day, which means hockey practice is going to suffer.
One glance at my phone and I see it’s five in the morning, almost time to get up anyway. Walking into the bathroom right off my bedroom, I turn on the cold water and let it run until it’s icy then fill up my hands and splash it on my face. Once. Twice.
I shove at the hair that’s in my face and glare at myself in the mirror. It might be the anniversary month of when she died, but there’s only one reason that dream chose to visit me tonight.
And, yeah, I want to deny the reality, want to tell myself I wasn’t affected, but I’d be lying.