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Actually, my entire body was jittery.
I hadn’t even had a chance to think about what happened with the whole dating a hockey player thing.
Tonight was the date.
In fact, the date was happening in just a few hours.
Hours!
I looked down at myself.
I was still in pajama pants.
Pajama pants with cartoon trees, bears and bumblebees on them.
And I had on an off-white hoodie that was old but fit so damn good, I never wanted to take it off.
How’s this for the date, Atlas?
I heard a knock at the door and it startled me.
For some reason I pictured Atlas standing on the other side of the door.
Him standing ten feet tall in jeans and a suit jacket. His sexy, jet-black hair that was long and messy. The mean look on his face and in his eyes.
I pictured people all around him with cameras.
And Ellen with her phone out, recording, wanting to capture everything about the date that I so-calledwon.
The knocking kept going.
“Hazel, it’s me!”
Hannah.
“I forgot my key! Let me in!”
I unlocked the front door and opened it for her.
“You look ready to fuck,” she said to me.
“Excuse me?”
“Your date.”
“A fake date,” I said. “There will be no fucking on this date.”
“Says who? You have a chance with a hockey player!”
“This is your fault, you know.”
“And you’re welcome,” Hannah said.
She breezed by me and went right for the kitchen.
She picked up my coffee cup and smelled it.
Her nose wrinkled.
