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“None of your business.”
“Then why are you opening it in front of me?” I arch a brow.
Her plump lips twist into a grin. “To make you eat your heart out.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about until she pulls out a red satin micro dress. I narrow my eyes. “What the fuck is that?”
“A dress.”
“Are you sure? It looks like underwear.”
She shrugs. “It’s perfect for Hansen’s Christmas party.”
Jealousy spreads through my chest like a disease. Now I get what she meant by eating my heart out. “Hansen is a certifiable asshole.”
“Is that any way to speak about your captain?”
I shove a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. Valerie is goading me, and I’m not going to fall for it. My mother insisted that I join the local hockey team so I’d make friends. Sure, I played in New York, but I was in a tier-one team. The idiots in this town are boneheads who couldn’t qualify for the beer league, especially Captain Dickwad.
Valerie flattens the dress against her body and beams. “Hansen will love this.”
I almost choke on my Fruit Loops. “You’re not seriously thinking about hooking up with that poster child for venereal diseases, are you?”
Valerie’s brows furrow. “I don’t do hookups. If Hansen wants a piece of this”—she points at her body—“he needs to be my boyfriend.”
I feel like I’m suffocating, drowning in my own blood, a reaction only Valerie can cause. But I can’t let her see it. So I roll my eyes and say, “Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck.” She sashays away with her dress, leaving the empty box in front of me.
Rage simmers low in my gut. Imagining it’s Hansen’s head, I punch the box across the room, creating a hole in the middle. Sadly, he’s not on my list. Being a dick alone doesn’t qualify him for the honor. But I’m watching him, hoping he does something that gets him there.
two
Eric
Iwasn’t planning on going to Hansen’s party. But like a glutton for punishment, I come to watch Valerie flirt with the douche canoe.
Bobby Smith, our goalie, is the first to see me. He lurches over, unable to walk a straight line, and stumbles into me. He’s all juiced up. “Eric, what the hell, man? You missed practice.”
I step back and keep him at arm’s length. “Jesus Christ. How much have you had to drink already?”
“Who cares? It’s a party!” He necks his beer.
“I’d stay away from open fires. You’re probably highly flammable.”
That reminds me, I haven’t played with fire in a while. Maybe I can do some burning when I decide on a target. The thought is depressing. Back in New York, I had a mile-long list. Right now, I have only one name in theMaybecolumn. I don’t believe for a second there aren’t some nasty individuals in this town who need my attention. But with starting a new school, hockey, and Valerie distracting me, I haven’t had time to do a proper investigation.
“Damn, Valerie is looking fiiine,” Bobby says, bringing me back to the moment.
I follow his line of sight and spot her walking into the living room with Hansen glued to her side. Fucker. My hands ball into fists as I imagine all the nasty ways I can make Hansen scream like a bitch.
“You’re one lucky motherfucker,” Bobby keeps talking. “I’d totally tap my stepsister if she looked like that.”
Valerie glances in our direction, and her eyes meet mine for a second. I make sure she notices how disgusted I am with her choice of companion. But if she cares, she doesn’t show she gives a fuck. Hansen leans closer and whispers something in her ear, making her laugh.
“Hansen better not fuck around with Valerie,” I grit out.
Bobby scoffs. “Yeah, like she’s gonna turn him into a serious boyfriend. The man is a dog.”
