Page 39 of The Casanova Complex

The Diet Dr Pepper I ordered when we got here is still full in front of me, mostly because I’ve hardly been able to sit still from adrenaline.

It’s always like this after I play, but coming off a game like that, it’s amplified by ten.

I’m still living on a high, antsy, and it’ll take the rest of the night for it to wear off.

Plus, I never drink if I play the next day. A beer is fine, but I mostly just stick with water or a Diet Dr Pepper if I’m feeling indulgent.

We’re playing Monroe again tomorrow, and I’ve got to be at my best.

Coach would make us skate till our legs gave out if he knew they were trying to drink tonight, and they know that.

Tyler scoffs, rolling his eyes as he downs the last of his beer. “You realize a shot is not going to make you play any worse, right?”

I shrug. “It might. Not doing it, dude.”

“You’re the most superstitious fucker I’ve ever met,” Zach says from beside him. “I mean, I’ve got my own, but you’re ridiculous.”

“Nah, I’m just consistent. I know what works, and I’m not fucking it up,” I say, smirking as I grab my phone off the table and open it. I’ve got a shit ton of notifications from before the game. A ton of texts and DMs congratulating me and the guys on tonight’s win.

I click open the one from Saint.

SAINT BESTIE POOKIE: Lennon says to tell you congratulations.

SAINT BESTIE POOKIE: Congratulations.

I have no doubt that Lennon did make him text me. That girl has him wrapped.

But the thing about Saint is he’s just like a scared little cat, skittish and feral around anyone who he even thinks cares about him.

He’s stoic, the broodiest motherfucker I’ve ever met.

Good thing that I’m forcing him to let me love him.

The thing about me is that I’m not a quitter, and even though it’s been years and I’ve barely worn him down, I’m not giving up.

I shoot him a quick text back.

It’s late because he’s in New York, and they’re an hour ahead. He’s left winger for the Wolves and moved there once he graduated last year.

ME: Thanks pookie pants. Miss you lots.

He’ll probably block me, but that’s okay because Lennon will unblock me if I ask her to. She’s a peach like that.

And she, of all people, understands how he is, how you just have to keep chipping away at his hard concrete exterior to get to the good squishy stuff inside like his heart.

I’m not surprised when there’s a message from Maisie. It’s a selfie of her and Lennon in the stands, holding up a cardboard cutout of my head on a stick, both of them smiling big, their eyes shining with excitement.

Those girls are some of my best friends, and even if we don’t get to hang out as much as we used to since we’re all running in a hundred different directions, that’ll never change.

Friendship like ours doesn’t fade with time or distance. We just pick right back up where we left off.

The next message I pull up is from Merritt, and fuck, my heart picks up at just seeing her name in my phone. I’m grinning like a fool.

I am as ridiculous as she says I am, but can you blame me?

I don’t think I’ve been quite right since that kiss, and it’s entirely her fault.

STABBY GIRL : There is absolutely no way you read this book. I’d bet just about anything on it. Fess up Legros