Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
“Oh my God, have you watched Fling or Forever? My mom and I are obsessed with it.”
“Yes,” she blurts out, and we proceed to spend about fifteen minutes discussing the best but also the worst dating show on the planet. The kind of crack that makes you feel bad about yourself after you realize you wasted ten hours of your life on it.
Eventually I have to cut us off so I can go inside and change for lunch.
Diana’s not the only one who chides me about remaining close with Case’s friends. I’ve heard it from almost everyone in my life, and their warnings flutter in the back of my mind as I walk into Sue’s, the restaurant where I’m meeting Will Larsen.
In my defense, I really was friends with Will long before I started dating Case. He’s Boston-born like me, and we attended the same high school. Went out a few times too, before we realized you can’t find two more platonic people than us. Like, zero chemistry.
Will is the one who introduced me to Case freshman year, and the one who convinced me to go on a date with him. Having played hockey my entire life, I always shied away from dating hockey players. Mostly because I know what they’re like.
As in, notorious fuckboys.
Hmm, so really, when you think about it…this is all Will’s fault.
“Hey,” I greet him, giving him a hug as he rises from the table.
He smacks a kiss on my cheek, then flashes his perfect white smile. Will has those boy-next-door looks that women can’t resist.
“Hey. Look,” he says, holding up a laminated page. “New menus.”
“Shocker.” This place revamps their menu about once a month. It’s like the owners can’t decide what kind of restaurant they want to be.
“They got rid of all those artisan sandwiches,” Will tells me. “I’m bummed. I liked those.”
“Aw, they were great.” I skim the latest menu, frowning. “There’s a lot of sushi on here now. This alarms me.”
Will snickers. “Maybe they can rename the place Sue’s Sushi.”
“No, it should be Sue’s Super Sushi Shop. Say that five times.”
“And then they could start serving soup and change it to Sue’s Super Sushi and Soup Shop.”
“Oh, even better.”
We continue to scan the menu options. I sort of feel bad for the owners. They’ve been struggling to stay afloat since they opened two years ago. Meanwhile, their biggest competitor, Della’s Diner, always has a line out the door. Della’s has been around forever, though, a beloved landmark in this town. My mom waited tables there when she went to Briar.
Will and I settle on burgers and fries, because that seems safer than ordering sushi from an establishment that only last week called itself an all-day breakfast place.
“You have that charity game this week, right?” Will asks while we wait for our meals.
I nod. “Thursday. Want to come root for us?”
“If I’m not too exhausted from training camp, then definitely.”
“How’s the new team gelling?”
“Oh, perfectly. You know, like oil and water. Blending right up.”
I laugh. “That bad?”
“Worse. Those Eastwood guys all have humongous chips on their shoulders.”
“Yes, I’m sure it’s one-sided,” I say dryly.
Will stubbornly shakes his head. “I’m just saying, they’re in our house. They could afford to be nicer.”
“See, that’s the problem. You’re calling it your house. Like they don’t belong.”
“Well, they don’t belong,” he grumbles. But he’s smiling now, a tad rueful. “Point taken. Maybe it’s not one-sided. But anyway, yeah, it’s only the second day of camp and everyone is ready to kill each other. No way we’re even making the playoffs this season, let alone going all the way.”
I reach over and pat his forearm. “Don’t worry. At least one Briar hockey program will win the Frozen Four this year. The women will get it done for you, sweetie.”
“Aw, thanks.”
The waitress comes over with our drinks, and Will takes a long sip of his soda before dropping a bomb.
“Miller’s transferring.”
“What? Since when?”
Miller Shulick is another Briar player, and a damn good one, playing on the second line last year. He’s also a really sweet guy. His only flaw, really, is being best friends with Jordan Trager.
“Since this morning,” Will says glumly. “Coach secured him a spot at Minnesota Duluth.”
“That’s a good program.”
“Yeah. He’ll go from being top ten here to top three there. Definitely an upgrade. It’s just a bummer to see him go. We’re throwing a thing for him Friday night. Barbecue, booze. Maybe sit around the firepit. You down?”
“Yeah, for sure.” I like Miller. I’m sad he’s leaving. “That is a bummer. Why can’t Trager be the one transferring?”
“Because we can’t have nice things.”
I snort. Even Jordan’s teammates can’t stand him.
“Anyway, tell your girls about Miller’s party. The more, the merrier. Is Mya back yet from wherever she’s been jet-setting?”
My roommate, Mya, is my other best friend at school. Her dad is the ambassador to Malta, her mom an heiress to a shipping empire, so Mya spends her summers sunbathing on yachts in the Med or staying in fancy European villas. Which is funny, because as snooty as her parents are, she’s the least pretentious person you’ll ever meet.