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Odder laughs, shaking his head, and he mutters something about me being an idiot as I let him go ahead of me into the gate. I look back at Cameron and hold up my three last fingers, which is a feat with my gloves on. She mirrors what I am doing, tucking her thumb and forefinger together as her eyes sparkle. She looks so damn confident, so beautiful, and I can’t wait to give her what she wants.
A hat trick.
And then…everything she could ever imagine.
Chapter Twelve
Cameron
“What in the world was that about?”
Callie looks over at me from where she’s devouring a pretzel with cheese. “What?”
“Benson,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth, so no one hears me. It’s loud, but I don’t want people catching wind that I’m speaking ill of my…Benson. “Hitting the glass with the puck and all when that guy was talking to us.”
The look on my best friend’s face makes me feel like an idiot. “So. Fucking. Messy. Girl, did you hit your head on the beam again?”
I gawk at her. “What? What are you talking about?”
Her annoyed gaze burns into mine. “Let me tell you something about men, because apparently you’ve dated boys. But a man, when they are with someone, gets jealous.”
“Jealous! Hardly.” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Cameron, guys don’t shoot pucks at thick glass and shoot daggers with their eyes unless they’re jealous,” she tells me, holding my gaze. “Go on YouTube, search for Shea Adler and Elli Fisher, and watch.”
“What do Evan’s parents have to do with this?”
“Shea Adler was riddled with jealousy when Elli showed up to his game with her coworker, and he broke the glass—like, smashed it. With a puck, no remorse, no nothing. Jealous. As. Fuck.”
I blink. “Callie, they’re married and have thirty kids now,” I exaggerate, and she laughs. “Benson and I are in an arrangement,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth again.
“You can whisper, you can yell, you can form your lips whatever which way, but this arrangement is about to get super messy. You didn’t think this through, Cameron. At all.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You just jumped in. You picked the first guy you thought of for this, and while I love Benson, I don’t know if he was the right choice with how things went down with you two. You didn’t think how this could play out. All you saw was the endgame, but my sweet, beautiful bestie, in every game, there are phases.” She holds her hand out to the ice. “Take hockey, for example. There are three periods—”
“I know how a hockey game is played, Callie, but I don’t know why the hell that matters!”
“Cameron,” she stresses, leaning in before licking the cheese off the side of her mouth. “In each period, there are twenty minutes of play. You two are in the first period of this. It’s the cute, flirty part, where you play with the idea of this being an ‘arrangement’—”
“It is—”
She waves me off. “In the second period, feelings will form—on your side because that dude has always had a thing for you.”
“Sex,” I say dryly. “He had lust for me.”
“And feelings. But anyway, things will get messy, you’ll act a fool and be like, ‘Oh my God, why is he making this more than it is?!’”
“I don’t like you,” I mutter, but that doesn’t deter her.
“The third period, he will pull you back in, and you two will fall madly for each other. And you’ll be like, ‘Well, that wasn’t scripted.’ And he’s going to go, ‘Yeah, I’m not scriptable, baby.’”
“Are you done?” I ask dryly, looking at my nails so I don’t have to look at her.
“And then the endgame, the Cup winner, him proposing at my wedding.”
“You’re insane,” I say, rolling my eyes. “This is all an arrangement, and it’s going beautifully.”
“It is, and it’s going to be successful and mind-blowing, and you’re going to look at me and say, ‘You were right, Callie. How could I ever doubt you? I actually did this subconsciously because I hate how things ended between us, and this was my way of getting a second chance without calling it a second chance.’”
I gawk at her. “If this conversation were a beam, I’d push you off.”
She laughs at that, and even my lips twitch a bit. “I’m calling it now. Because for real, Cam, this is all too easy, too right, and it’s been only a few days. I mean, look at the way he looks at you,” she says, and I can’t deny that. His dark eyes were possessive, and this warm flutter comes to life in my gut, but it doesn’t mean anything. Of course lust is present. We know what happens when we get in bed together and how great our bodies work together, but that’s not going to happen.
