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I took in the food trucks and the fireplace and even the woodenbarrel table like the one we’d sat at. This time, my focus snagged on a new detail. One of the ice sculptures Gianna had painted was familiar. It was a pair of birds off to the side. They were woven together like the image Chris had drawn on my wrist months ago. My heart skipped as I realized I might be in trouble.
Because I might be falling hard for the guy who was supposed to just be my friend.
New Year’sEve
“How do we get in?” Jana asked as we made our way down the tunnel under the stadium to an area that connected the hockey arena to the baseball field.
Even with Wren in bright red, it was Jana who stood out. Just the way she liked it. The dullness of the half-lit space did nothing to stop the sparkle of her gold sequined dress.
“Yeah, do we need a password or a special knock?” Wren’s eyes lit up at the idea, like we were entering the CIA’s headquarters or something.
“It’s not a secret society. It’s a bar where the Bolts and Revs players can chill without being hounded by crazy fans and media.”
They’d be disappointed when they found out all we had to do was give them our names, since Chris had already told them we were coming.
“If we see Brooks Langfield, I can’t promise I won’t fangirl all over that gorgeous man.” Jana shimmied her deep auburn curls as she spun in a circle, practically dancing down the corridor.
“Saint” Brooks Langfield was the Bolts’ goalie and considered thegood boy of hockey. He also appeared on billboards all over Boston in nothing but his underwear. And yeah, he was gorgeous. There was no denying it.
“Don’t make me regret asking you two to come with me.”
According to Chris, the teams had planned a New Year’s Eve event down here in the hopes that the players could remain under the radar after yet another PR disaster last month. Between rumors of the team owner hating kids, Chris’s blowups, and the scene with Puff, it had been a rough year. And there had been drama with a trainer and Bolts player not long ago as well. The PR team was probably in dire need of a peaceful spell.
Wren looped an arm around my waist and rested her head against mine. The heels I’d slipped into tonight made me almost as tall as her.
“No way you weren’t bringing your besties to the players’ New Year’s Eve party. What would you do without us?”
“Not wear this.” I glanced down at my impossibly tight silvery-purple dress, still sure it was too much.
“Why? Because you’re afraid this dress will prove us right?” Jana spun to face us and walked backward down the concrete hall, her four-inch sparkling heels clicking with every step.
“The man started a charity for your birds and named it after you.” Wren sent me a side-eye. “He stays in on Saturday nights to watch movies with you. And he pretty much adopted a bird you adore. He is so far gone, and you don’t even see it.”
I shook my head, causing my ponytail to slip over my shoulder. “Please stop pushing this.” I hadn’t mentioned my mixed emotions about Chris to them. If I did, they’d be relentless. Getting them to shut up about him was hard enough already.
“Personally, I think this dress will resolve any issues. When you walk in, Chris will fall out of his chair. He’ll spend hours growling at anyone who comes near you. And then, finally, at midnight, he’ll kiss you, and you two can live happily ever after.” She threw her arms out and twirled.
“Sounds like a fairy tale.”
If that were the case, then they were the Cinderellas tonight, with perfect hair and big smokey eyes. But I was just me, only in a tightdress. In reality, I’d done more work on Halloween to play the part of Princess Peach than I had done getting ready tonight. But I kept my mouth shut. I had no interest in bringing my friends down.
“And if we’re shooting for fairy tales,” I said, “then we need to find princes for the both of you.”
“I don’t know about a prince, but I’ll take a hockey star.” Jana laughed.
As we turned another corner, two men appeared out of nowhere, and the three of us stumbled to a stop. The taller one scanned us, then zeroed in on me. “Avery?”
I nodded, wondering if I really was supposed to give some kind of code word.
But then the other guy turned to the wall and pulled open a hidden door.
“And you said it wasn’t the bat cave.” Wren smirked at me, clutching my arm.
Okay, the wall thing was cool. Now that I knew where it was, it was clearly a door made to blend in with the cinderblock wall, but if these guys hadn’t been standing here, I totally would have walked by. Which was probably the point.
The three of us stepped inside, only to find another hall, though this one was much smaller. After only a few feet, thought, the space opened up, and we stepped into a bar that looked like a sports hall of fame. The place was covered with black-and-white photos of the Revs and Bolts over the years. Towels and flags and bobbleheads in the likeness of dozens of athletes decorated the space. A dozen signed jerseys hung on the walls. The place definitely bled Boston blue.
“Wow,” Jana said, her mouth ajar as she surveyed the many athletes that dotted the room.
