Page 42 of Icebound

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

“Atta girl, Phil.”

“You two know each other?” I demand.

“Hell yeah.” Cruz grins, and I want to wipe the smile off his face. “Phil and I were both Crimson Valley Vipers. Stay Violent!” he whoops.

“It’s stay violet,” Nina interjects.

“My way’s better. I even asked her to homecoming,” he continues. “Phil turned me down to go with Damon fucking theatre boy, even though I told her she’d have more fun with me, but listen, as much as I want to play catch up, we’ve got a real serious question for you, pretty girl.”

That’s it—I can’t listen to this.

“Sorry, Patty.” I jam my elbow back into his ribs.

He grunts, loosening his grip, and I slide out from beneath his arms. Springing forward, I rip the phone from Cruz’s hands and look at Nina’s cute face. I shake my head. No, not cute.

Young.

Her hazels widen on the screen. I zone in on her, perched on a bar stool like a queen with some pink drink in her hand. She's probably drowning in shots.

Good for her.

I clench my phone.

Her glasses are lopsided, and her hair’s a mess. She looks every bit the student in her university crewneck, and I hate that I find a twenty-two-year-old so fucking pretty.

It makes me worse than my father.

I stare at Nina’s freckles over her nose, gritting my jaw when I realize she doesn’t have any wrinkles around the corners of her eyes like me. But there it is—she’s wearing my lucky beanie. The sight of her in my clothing tugs me closer to the screen, so I jerk myself back.

“Hey,” I mumble.

Brilliant, Tremblay.

She takes a long sip of her drink before answering. “Why is my old high school friend FaceTiming me from your phone, Rhode?”

Cruz pops his head into the screen, knocking against my temple. “Aw, come on, we were more than friends. You kissed me under that arch thing.”

What the hell? She kissed him? Something hot and grating slithers under my skin. I shove him, but Cruz doesn’t budge because our center’s made of bricks.

Patty sticks his head on the other side so all our sweaty cheeks are squished together. His beard is real damn itchy.

“No,” Nina counters. “You kissed me, with too much tongue, I might add.”

I grind my jaw hard enough to crush my molars as a white-hot shot of jealousy bursts through me. Cruz knows what she tastes like, and I’ll never find out.

“We both know it was the best kiss of your life, Phil. Anyway, we gotta go. Can you bring Tremblay’s beanie to our next game or mail it or some shit? It’s the one on your head. We’re losing ‘cause he packed the wrong one, and he needs it for every game.”

She blinks like she’s trying to translate another language. “What? That makes no sense.”

“We’re hockey players,” Cruz says. “We don’t fuck with the rituals. Trust me, if I didn’t have to go commando for every game, I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not even going to ask about that,” she says.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath as I watch the timer tick down on the locker room clock. “She’s right, Cruz. I’m not asking her to do this. We’ll be fine.”

“I can drop it off at your apartment when you get back on Friday?” Nina offers.