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I toe my phone, shoving it closer to her. She knows my pin. There’s not anything I hide from Rowan. Right now, I want nothing to do with the messages on that stupid app. I’m so over it. Over dating in general. I’ll happily be single for the rest of my life if it means never having to deal with creeps again!

“Oh my gosh, you’re acting like a baby.” She grabs my phone, unlocks it, and then opens the app. “Doesn’t sound like Josh stalking you. It’s some new guy you matched with. He’s actually cute if you like⁠—”

“If you like what?” I ask. I hate when Rowan does that, stops mid-sentence like I’m supposed to read her mind or some crap.

“Oh my gosh, it can’t be.” Rowan grabs her phone from the end table and unlocks it. I scoot closer to her, trying to figure out what is going through her head.

“It can’t be … what?”

I swear she’s a puzzle sometimes, or maybe her brain just works faster than her mouth.

She types into the search browser Ice Dragons players and then finds the official website and starts scrolling until she searches through their roster.

“You’re crazy if you think he’s a professional hockey player. No way would he be on some dumbass dating site.”

“Found him!” Rowan shows me his photo on her phone and then mine. “He’s a fucking catfish. What an asshole. Pretending to be some hotshot hockey player to try to get girls into bed.”

I stare at his photo, recognizing the brunette with that intense stare. “I’ve seen him before.”

“Of course, you have,” Rowan groans and then opens my messages. “He’s constantly being interviewed on television. He was a first-round pick in the draft. Made huge headlines a few months back. I can’t believe this jackass had the nerve to message you and pretend to be some hottie. I’ll show him!” In capital letters, she types one sentence back.

Me: GET LOST, YOU SLEEZY PIECE OF SHIT.

I leap across her for my phone, but Rowan hits send before I can stop her.

“What the hell?” I manage to pin Rowan down and wrestle the phone from her death grip. “Why are you being a brat?” I grumble at her.

“Me? You should be thanking me for telling that loser to get lost. I’m just protecting you, sis.”

We’re not biologically related, but we are practically sisters. We’ve known one another since the seventh grade. Best friends through everything. But right now, I’m contemplating murdering her.

“Protect me a little less.”

She raises an eyebrow. “That guy is trash. You already went out with Josh. You don’t need another piece of crap dating you. You’re worth more than that scum sucker. He’s likely not even in New York. I’ll bet he lives overseas, and it’s all a scam for extorting money.”

“That guy you just texted, I recognize him from the bar. I spoke with him.”

“What?” Rowan drops my phone, letting me yank it from her as she sits up on the chaise and I crash next to her.

“I met him, well, I talked to him a little at the bar last week,” I say. “I think he may have been flirting with me. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m bad at reading signals.”

“Tell me exactly what he said to you.” Rowan’s eyes are wide. She turns. I’ve captivated her complete attention. If only she’d given it to me a few seconds earlier before sending that dreaded private message.

I recant the story in as much detail as I can remember. How I’d felt his gaze on me while I was at the bar, then he ordered a couple of shots, Josh went to the bathroom and we spoke a bit. Mostly about the 90s party. It slipped out that I thought he was cute, and he definitely latched onto that comment, more than anything else.

“He was flirting with you. But you need to play it cool. If this guy is really who we think he is, he gets all sorts of girls throwing themselves at him daily.” She pauses, mulling something over in her head.

“What is it?” I ask. “Did I say something horrendous?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure he’s the right guy for you, June.”

I press my lips together, hating that she knows me better than I know myself.

“I thought he was cute.” I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, remembering the way his gaze raked over my body. I groan and roll my eyes. “Oh my gosh, we met on 90s night. I was dressed as Britney.”

“Yeah, so? You make a hot Britney Spears.”

“I was wearing your plaid miniskirt and that white shirt with my midriff exposed.”