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When do you want to meet with her?
My heart slams against my ribcage as I think about my upcoming hockey schedule and type out a response.
Set up the first one for Tuesday.
I’ll text Fallyn with the info and get back to you.
Sounds good.
Pleasure doing business with you.
She tacks on an emoji that’s blowing a heart.
Instead of responding, I pocket the phone and glance around the Union, where we’re camped out for lunch. There was a time in the not-so-distant past when puck bunnies would be buzzing around the table like drunken bees.
Now there are girlfriends.
Juliette, Maverick’s sister, is going out with Ryder McAdams. That relationship sprung up out of nowhere and totally caught me off guard. Ford and his ex-stepsister, Carina, are now an item. Although, anyone with eyes could see that one coming from a mile away. It was only a matter of time before the sexual chemistry they always seemed to generate exploded. And then Riggs and Stella. That was another relationship I would have laid odds on. It’s only recently that Riggs got fed up with being friend zoned and made his big move.
My gaze lands on Madden and Viola. I knew there’d been a girl in his past, but I had no idea that it was Fallyn’s cousin. We haven’t talked about it, but it’s pretty obvious that he knows about what happened since they were together when the accident occurred. At some point, we’ll have to bite the bullet and discuss the situation. But I’m in no hurry to do that. Now that Viola has been coming around more, I give them a wide berth.
And I fucking hate it.
Not only is Madden my roommate, but teammate. And he’s a good friend.
One of the best I have.
When our gazes catch, he gives me a chin lift in acknowledgment.
I return the gesture.
I hate that he knows about my past and what happened with Miles. There’s never been a day that I haven’t thought about the guy who was more like a brother to me.
Or how Fallyn was snatched from my life.
One day she was there, and the next she was gone.
I drag a hand through my short strands and jerk my eyes away. The last thing I need is him sifting through my inner thoughts.
The ones I keep locked up tight.
Even from myself.
There’s only a handful of single guys left in our tight knit group.
Colby, Maverick, Bridger, and Hayes.
The girl on Colby’s lap twines her arms around his neck as she presses closer. Every time I see the dude, there’s a different groupie trying to dry hump him. I don’t know where he finds these chicks. They certainly don’t care if he’s allergic to monogamy.
As soon as my phone dings with an incoming message, I slip it from my pocket and glance at the screen, hoping that it’s Chloe. I want the situation with Fallyn locked down tight. I want to know that in four days, I’ll finally be able to get my hands on her.
Instead, I find a text from the university.
Looks like the chancellor’s son thinks he can slip underground and avoid detection. That’s a negative, ghost rider.
That text is accompanied by a picture of Bridger with a baseball hat pulled low over his eyes. A couple of girls are snuggled up against him. I recognize the shot from the other day. There’s a second photograph. This one is from Slap Shotz after the game last Thursday. Again, he’s wearing a black ballcap that covers the upper portion of his face.
The caption reads?—
