She keeps one eye still closed and peeks out the other.
Everly shoves her shoulder lightly. “It was not that big of a deal.”
“Nothing happened.” Grace turns to me and says it like she’s clarifying for my benefit. “But it was humiliating. He pulled me into a hug and told me how cool a chick I was.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. You are gorgeous and I could see you two together.” It’s true. I could. Grace is stunning. Dark hair, eyes that are this storm blue that’s almost gray, and a smile that transforms her from sweet and pretty to vibrant and stunning. But it’s not just her looks. Grace’s father played professional baseball in the nineties, so she fits into Ash’s world in a way I don’t. They make sense.
“Maybe he just didn’t want to get involved because you’re friends,” I say.
“We were never really friends. I tagged along with Ev to a few team parties. Ash and I would make small talk. He was always friendly and made me feel welcome. Sometimes I’d think he was checking me out, but you know Ash, he’s got a way of making everyone feel important. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in that big, handsome head.”
I nod like I know, but the truth is I know very little about Ash and how he is with other people.
“Anyway, it all worked out because I met Lane and he’s the best.” The blush on her face as she smiles makes me incredibly happy for her.
The game is good. Everly’s brother, Tyler, gets the first goal of the game. Grace was right about our roommate being super entertaining to watch. She barely takes her eyes off the ice, but somehow manages to stay in conversation, never missing a beat while also calling out to the players like they can hear her.
Ash comes over during the first intermission with Harper and asks if we need anything.
“Define anything,” Ev says. “Because I could use a cute guy or a million dollars or—”
“They have cotton candy.” Harper holds up hers to show us. It’s almost as big as her head.
“Ooooh. I might need some of that.” Grace stands.
Harper leads the way.
Everly looks between me and Ash. “You know what? Me too. Maybe I’ll find a cute boy out in the halls.”
“Having fun?” Ash asks when we’re alone. It feels weird to sit at the front of the box all alone, so I get up and the two of us slowly walk back to where the bar is set up.
“Yeah. I am. Thank you for letting us crash. Your family seems great.”
Ash’s sisters walk by with their heads together, whispering. If I’m not mistaken, they give me a thorough once-over with nosy, prying expressions.
“They are. Mostly.” He chuckles. “My sisters are trying to figure out which one of you is my girlfriend and I think you just became the front-runner.”
I dip my head to hide my blush.
“I told them it wasn’t like that, but they refuse to believe anything I say about girls since the tenth grade when I lied about kissing Catherine Thomas at a birthday party, and then the next day there was photographic evidence of said kiss being shared around the school.” One side of his mouth pulls up into a boyish half-smile. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”
“No. I’m good,” I say as his little brother runs a circle around us and then darts off in the same direction he came. “Does your family come to a lot of games?”
“No, not really. Once a season they come here, and they make it to all the games we play in Boston. That’s where they all live.”
“Tonight is the one game of the season they all came here?” I ask, finally realizing that his entire family is here and he’s not even playing. I guess I assumed they came often, or maybe I was too distracted by Ash to think anything.
“Yeah. Perfect timing to get hurt, huh? I didn’t know until about a few hours before the game that I was for sure not going to be out there. They’d all already made plans to come in for the weekend.” He shrugs. “I guess at least this way I get to spend more time with them.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how much you wish you were out there.”
“You have no idea. I’m ready to trade my left arm for a robot arm.”
Laughter slips from my mouth and Ash’s smile gets bigger. “What about you? How’s everything going for real?”
“Good,” I answer with the same canned response I gave him the last time he asked.
He looks at me like he’s waiting for more, so I add, “Nothing new to report. School, work, home, repeat.”