She tastes like beer and strawberry lip balm. She laughs against my mouth. Rosie is squished between us, making indignant noises. She’ll get over it.
"Get a room, Thorne," Jett calls as he skates past.
Mollie pulls back, cheeks on fire. "You're insane."
"You're wearing my jersey." She looks amazing in it, even though it’s way too big.
She jogs Rosie on her hip and rolls her eyes. "Everybody wears your jersey."
"Yeah, but not everybody is gonna wear only that jersey in bed tonight. Not everybody is gonna be rewarded for being my good girl.”
“Alex!” She laughs and puts her hand over Rosie’s ear. “She can hear, you know.”
One of my teammates yells my name and I sigh. “I have to go. Wait for me, Freckles.”
Her lips curve up sweetly. “Always, Hotshot.”
If Mollie knew how much I loved that nickname coming from her mouth, she’d never let me live it down. I kiss her and Rosie on the cheeks, then head off.
The locker room afterward is the best kind of loud. Music pumping, guys yelling, the specific relief of a close win after a hard game. I strip my pads and sit on the bench with my head tipped back, letting the adrenaline drain out of me.
Konstantin drops onto the bench beside me. He's got a towel around his neck, and a bruise forming on his jaw from a second-period check that he pretended didn't hurt.
"The signaling was better tonight," he says.
"It wasn't perfect."
"No." He rubs his jaw. "But it worked."
"It did."
He considers me for a second, then holds out his fist. I bump it with mine. Neither of us says anything else. We just sit there for a minute, two guys who are figuring out how to play together. Professionals, yes. But also, guys who are working around obstacles.
"Tomorrow," he says. "After practice? We can work on the signals more."
"I'll be there."
He nods, gets up, and heads for the showers. I sit for another minute, checking my phone. There's a text from my dad.
Dad
Good game, champ. You looked sharp out there.
Also, I need to ask you something.
Will you be my best man?
I stare at the screen. My dad wants me to stand next to him while he marries my ex-girlfriend. Six months ago, that would've sent me into a spiral. Right now, with the sweat still drying on my skin and my girl's lip gloss on my mouth, I can't find it in me to care.
Naomi makes him happy. He makes her happy. It's weird as fuck and I'll never fully get used to it. But I have Mollie. That’s really all that matters.
I send him a thumbs up and put my phone away.
After I shower and change, the whole team migrates to The Secret History. By the time I walk in, the Coven has claimed the back room, the bar is three deep with Havoc players, and Indie is already dancing on a table. Theo is looking up at her like she's personally responsible for the sun rising.
They are obviously going to hook up. Even I can tell, and I normally don’t read other people’s vibes that well.
“Alex!” Mollie spots me from across the room and weaves through the crowd. She's still wearing my jersey, tied at the waist now, paired with jeans and her white Converse. She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me.
