Page 94 of Patrick

Probably because my mouth is wide open with my jaw dislocated because it dropped so far. Then my base instincts take over, and I let out a world-class wolf whistle, getting the attention of a substantial number of people who look our way.

Fifi blushes, but she doesn’t back away. She spins around and takes a bow.

Ricci says, “She won the popular vote for best glam dress in the fashion show.”

“Of course she did.”

Bog says, “You’re here with Pammy, right?”

I turn to him, but it’s hard tearing my eyes away from Fifi as she stands there glittering in the ballroom lights like she’s a hockey fairy from heaven—or from my wildest dreams.

“Sure. Sort of.”

“That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I dance with her, do you?”

“With Pammy?” I take a closer look at her and notice her hair is all done up, and she’s in full make-up, fake lashes and all, and she’s wearing a slimming and sexy low-cut black velvet dress that shows off her curves. “What the hell?”

She steps to my side and whispers, “Ricci and Nina helped me dress tonight.”

“Looks like it.” I flash a grin at Ricci, who glares back, daring me to say a bad word. “You look great.”

Sofia steps closer, shrinking our circle. “Maybe you should dance with Pammy first, before Bog does.” I get her meaning. She’s still worried about social media and Vince, even if he’s not showing up tonight.

“Okay, but I promise I’m going to dance with you, Fifi. I’ll dance with Ricci and Nina too.” I wink. “You have any other girlfriends I can dance with?”

She laughs.

Then Ricci says in her usual assertive voice in front of everyone, including my teammates, “Aren’t you worried that Darcy told Vince about you and Sofia?”

Bog gives me a side-eye. “Vincent from B.C.?”

I nod. “Otherwise known as Fifi’s—I mean Sofia’s—brother.”

Bog whips his head around to look at her as if she just transformed into a T-Rex.

Sully, Van, and Henry exchange confused glances, trying to figure things out. But Bog gets it. He knows there’s more than hockey behind my badass enemy relationship with Vincent. Maybe he’s been talking to Kathleen. I wouldn’t put it past either of them.

I turn to Ricci. “I know it goes against your nature, but try not to be such a drama queen. Darcy isn’t exactly a reliable source, and the social media lately paints a diverse picture about who I’m seeing.”

“I hope you’re right,” Pammy says.

I’m staring at Fifi as I say, “Of course I’m right.” I wink. She rolls her eyes.

The DJ introduces himself and starts with a dance song, “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter.

“Let’s dance.” I take Pammy out onto the dance floor and try valiantly not to keep staring at Fifi.

“You’ve been a good friend, Pammy. I owe you big for helping out me and Fifi.”

“I owe you, Trick. I haven’t had this much fun in college in all my four years until now. Besides, I’m a romantic, and you and Fifi belong together.”

I nod, grinning like a fool and feeling as if I’ve downed a bottle of champagne. Taking Pammy’s hand, we find Fifi, and I take her to the dance floor as “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan starts playing.

Holding her in close, I move us into the middle of the floor where we get lost in the crowd and whisper in her ear, “I have something for you, Sugar Lips.”

She shivers and looks up at me, her perfect face soft with emotion, and I try to hold up against it, to stiffen against the onslaught of responding emotions, but it’s impossible.

Instead, I capture her lower lip and nibble.