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By the time I reach him, I’m so nervous, it’s a miracle I don’t throw up all over his T-shirt when he glances my way, then looks again, pausing to give me an appreciative smile.
Yes! Blue dress for the win!
I flick a lock of my bright red hair over my shoulder and cross my fingers that he’s into girls with orange freckles and hair the color of carrots.
There was no auburn darkening for me when I hit puberty. My hair has stayed this eye-watering color my entire life, unless we bring up the whole dyeing incident in ninth grade. Which we won’t, because it was a complete disaster.
I’m red and I’m loving it.
That’s what Mom made me say a million times a day once we finally got it back to its natural color.
“I’m red and I’m loving it,” I mutter once more to myself, the words failing to have any kind of empowering impact as I pause by Casey Pierce and hold my breath.
He drinks me in, his lips curling at the corners as he eyes me from head to toe. His gaze lingers over my plunging neckline and squished-up boobs for a beat longer than is probably necessary, but I’ll take that as a win too. If he’s a boobs man, that works hugely in my favor. Maybe tonight I’ll finally be grateful for my double-Ds.
“Hey,” he murmurs. The look in his eyes is panty-melting.
My stomach does a little twerk while my chest is going wild with some tap-dancing routine that’s making it hard to speak.
Finally, my lips part, and out flows this myriad of hockey-related stats that he probably already knows because the stats are all about him, and did I say hi?
Nope, don’t think so.
I’m pretty sure he said, “Hey,” and I turned into a human Wikipedia page.
It’s like walking up to your favorite celebrity, pointing at them, and saying, “Oh wow, you’re Chase Stokes. I loved you in Outer Banks!” Like the guy doesn’t already know his name, you know?
And that’s exactly what I’m doing to Casey right now.
Shit! Shut up, you idiot! Just stop talking!
Eventually the thought registers, and I clamp my lips together midsentence.
He’s gonna walk away.
I did exactly what Lani told me not to do, and now he’s gonna let out a derisive snort and walk away because I’m a blabbermouth nerd who?—
“Wow.” He grins. “You know your hockey.”
I let out an awkward laugh. “I guess I… am kinda passionate about the game. I’ve been watching it since before I can remember. My dad’s a fanatic.”
Casey nods, running a hand through his hair while I resist the urge to swoon and start batting my eyelashes.
Don’t you dare, Caroline!
He poops like the rest of us! He poops like the rest of us!
Of all the words Lani said to me, I have no idea why those are the ones I can’t get out of my head. This is a nightmare. I should bail.
“Who’s his team?”
“Huh? Oh! Avalanche.” I grin. “He’s a Colorado boy. Born and bred. You?”
“Me too. Montrose.”
“Nice.” I bob my head. “I’m from Boulder.”
“That’s not far.”
