“I thought you didn’t know anything about hockey.”
“I don’t. I’m just repeating what the announcer said on the PA.”
“Tuck!” someone from the group of players calls. “You coming?”
He twists around to shout back, “I’ll meet you there!” Then he’s smiling at me again. “Want to come back to my place to celebrate the win with us?”
I shake my head. “I have to get home. I work tomorrow. Besides—” Don’t say it… “I don’t particularly feel like—” Don’t fucking say it, Sabrina! “—being a third wheel,” I finish, and want to punch myself for it.
His dark auburn eyebrows shoot up. “What are you talking about?”
I clench my teeth.
“Darlin’，” he prompts.
“Little Red Riding Hood over there,” I mumble, jerking my head toward Blondie, who’s now chatting with one of Tucker’s friends. “You two looked like you were on a date.”
“A date? Um, no.” He starts to laugh. “That’s Sheena, a friend of mine.” He pauses. “Well, an ex.”
I pounce on that. “See!”
“See what? She’s an ex, but she’s also a friend. I’m friends with lots of my exes.”
Of course he is. No girl on this damn planet would ever Carrie Underwood this guy and key his truck or bash it in with a baseball bat. He’s too fucking nice. It’s impossible to hate him.
“You’re jealous,” he teases.
“No,” I lie.
“You totally are.” Delight dances across his face. “You like me.”
“No,” I lie again. “I told you—I was in the neighborhood. I figured I’d say hello.”
“You’re better than this, baby. Why don’t you put us out of our misery and say yes already?”
“Yes to what?”
“A date. Just say yes.”
My mouth opens to form words. Or rather, one word. Yes. I want to say it, I really, really do, but I hate being put on the spot. I can feel my friends’ amused gazes on us, and now some of his friends are glancing over too. And Tucker is too good and sweet, and I’m trashy and aloof, and my stepfather is a total creep, and it’s all too fucking overwhelming right now.
So when I finally answer, it’s not with the word he wants to hear. “Your friends are waiting for you,” I mutter, and then I hurry back to my crew before he can object.
Carin takes one look at my face and steers me toward the parking lot where D’Andre parked his car.
“Ugh!” I groan when we’re out of Tucker’s sight. “I’m so freaking stupid!”
“You’re not stupid,” Hope objects.
“If anything, you’re too smart,” Carin says. “Your brain is your biggest enemy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you think too much. We all saw your face just now—you like this guy. You really like him.”
“He scares me,” I blurt out.
Three sets of eyes blink in surprise.
“He’s too perfect, you guys.” I groan again. “And I’m a total mess most of the time. I’m scared that if he gets to know me better, he’ll see that.”
“So what if he does?” Hope counters.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip.
Carin touches my arm. “You need to go out with him. Seriously, Sabrina, you’ll regret it if you don’t. And the one thing I know you hate is regrets.”
She’s right. I always kick myself after I let an opportunity pass me by.
“Tell you what,” she says when I hesitate for too long. “Let’s make it a double date.”
“A double date?” I echo weakly.
“Oooh, threesome.” Hope waggles her brows. “Kinky.”
“Calm your tits, Hopeless,” Carin orders. “I’m talking normal, wholesome double date.”
I think it over. It does take a lot of the pressure off. “Okay… I can do that.”
Carin beams. “Good. Now text him before you change your mind. Oh, and whoever you pair me up with better be hot. And make sure he knows how to use his tongue.”
“I’m standing right here, you know.” D’Andre waves one meaty hand in the air. “How ’bout you pervs quit objectifying my man clan?”
Hope giggles.
“Who’s objectifying?” Carin replies. “I’m just saying I want a guy who’s good with his tongue. That should be the prerequisite for every member of your ‘man clan,’ D. Like in middle school, they should teach reading, writing, and really good tongue movement.”