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“I’m so glad you guys are here tonight,” I confess. “I was sweating bullets over this date until I found out you and Sam were coming.”
“I don’t normally come to games,” Sam says. “I told Tuck I’ll only come to one game for every Harry Potter book he reads.”
“How many has he read?”
“So far, only The Sorcerer’s Stone.”
I laugh. “This is your first game, then.”
She nods, long blond hair falling in front of her eyes. “And it will be my last until after he finishes reading The Chamber of Secrets.”
Sam’s a mega Potterhead. She wears a lot of green Slytherin shirts beneath her Broad Street Beans polo shirt. And on occasion, she sports necklaces and bracelets with snakes on them. She’s weird but cool. I love Harry Potter but not to the same extreme as Sam. Her love is more like an obsession.
“I love that book,” I confess.
“Not you, too,” Shannon groans.
“What’s wrong with Harry?”
“Nothing. Sam’s been bugging me to read the books, too. But she doesn’t have anything to bribe me with to get me to read them.”
“You should at least try one. I guarantee you’ll be hooked.”
“See,” Sam says with a bright smile. “At least one of you gets it.”
After the game begins, Bex starts shouting what I assume are plays. Honestly, I have no idea. She could be speaking Spanish, and I would have no idea. Julian never talked much about hockey when we dated. We spent most of our time binge-watching movies and making out. Sam flips through her phone, and I’m pretty sure she’s reading a book. Shannon looks interested but confused. This is an interesting group. I bet the hockey hookers know what’s going on.
I watch the game but give up after a while. The jerseys for both teams are so similar I can’t tell them apart. I have no idea which is the home team. Bored, I follow Sam’s good idea and open an app on my cell phone. I borrowed this creepy thriller from the library last week. I have a few more days left until I have to return it.
Midway through the first chapter, I’m so engrossed in the story that I jump when Shannon taps me on the shoulder.
“What’s up?”
Laughing, she extends a long, pink nail in front of my face. I follow her finger, and my expression darkens when I see Julian with his gloved hand pressed against the glass.
“Ugh, why is he calling attention to me?”
“He likes you,” Shannon says.
“I bet the hockey hookers are loving this,” I whisper low enough for Shannon to hear.
She chuckles. “They probably think he’s waving to them.”
“Oh, right.” I laugh even harder. “That’s awesome.”
Julian’s smile reaches up to his emerald irises that are so bright under the house lights. I hate how my heart leaps from my chest when the dimple I love creases his tanned cheek. When we were together, I would dig my finger into the tiny crevice, which would only make Julian laugh harder.
We did that a lot. Laughed. Talked. Watched movies and did normal shit. We were good together. Despite our differences in our upbringings, we had a lot in common. And now that I’m forced to be around him again, I’m reliving the parts of our old lives I loved so much. This can’t happen. Not now or ever. That ship has sailed.
Julian raises his hand to wave, and I feel like a mega-bitch for remaining stoic, staring at him like he’s about to turn into a pumpkin. Maybe he will. Wouldn’t that be nice? Then, I won’t have to go to his house after the game. I won’t have to spend another second looking at his sexy lips or the cocky smirks that grace them. I won’t have to still my heart every time he laughs or casually touches my arm. He always does that.
But I can’t.
I won’t allow it.
My heart can’t handle the stress again.
I can only take so much shit.
