Chapter 26
TRICK
As I walk to the MUB, I get a text from Pammy.
Pammy: Darcy told Vincent about you and Sofia, and he might be on his way here tonight.
Fuck. I stop and hit call. She picks up after half one ring.
“What makes you think Vincent is on his way here? Doesn’t he have a game or something?”
“Hi Trick, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Darcy claims she advised him to come up and catch you red-handed.”
“She’s bluffing. I bet Vince is playing hockey.” I’m ninety percent certain. “Let me check B.C.’s hockey schedule.” I open a tab with the B.C. hockey schedule and scroll down to today’s date. “Bingo. They have a game in Vermont. He won’t be driving to UNH tonight.”
“That’s great news. I didn’t even think of a hockey game stopping him, but I guess that makes sense.”
“Of course it does. Hockey’s the top priority for any of us putting all the time and sweat into the game.”
“I know how hard you work. It’s impressive.”
I smile. “Thanks, Pammy. What’s going on there? Will I have time to see Fifi before the fashion show starts?” I finger the small gift I have for her in my parka pocket.
“Too late for that. Professor M. is out there now doing her intro for the show and the glam projects, getting the crowd going.”
“Shit. I have a gift I wanted to give her before the show. For good luck.”
“Oooh, you’re so, so sweet—”
“Shhh. Keep it down. I have a reputation as a tough guy.”
She laughs. “No you don’t. You have a reputation as a fun guy, a charmer.”
“I mean on the ice.”
“Right. Whatever. I have to go. I’ll let the others know the whole Vincent threat is a false alarm.”
“Great. See you soon.”
Glancing over the room, I realize I missed the fashion show because the DJ is setting up on the stage now. I find the corner of the room where Pammy is hanging conveniently with Fifi, Ricci, and Nina, and a group of my teammates. In fact, I think that’s Henry making Nina smile right now.
I join the crowd, inserting myself between Nina and Henry.
“What’s up, Henry? You know my girl here?”
He looks confused for a beat, but Nina rolls her eyes and gives my arm a shove. I laugh.
“You know all the girls, don’t you?” Henry smirks.
“Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you a few things—about hockey, of course.”
He laughs, and I catch Fifi’s eye. She’s partly obscured by the others, and I nod at Ricci, Pammy, Bog, Van, and Sully.
Then she steps away from them, and I get a good look at her—and her dress. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
No amount of self control can stop me from staring with my eyes popping until I’m worried I’ll lose them when they fall to the floor
Her dress is a hockey jersey—or a shiny glittery and very sexy version of one—with my number on it.
The silvery blue material hugs her curves, and the way the neckline dips and falls off one shoulder makes my mouth water.
My eyes travel down to the short hemline with the side slits and sparkling trim, and I think I’ve lost my ability to speak.
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.
“Aren’t you going to guess what it is?” I say to her neck and watch the goosebumps that rise there.
“Whatever it is, I already love it.”
Now it’s my turn to get goosebumps, but I’m not happy about it. Or I try not to be. “I know. I’ll give it to you when we’re alone, back in your room.”
“That seems so far away.”
I chuckle. “I get you. Maybe we can cut the Snow Ball portion of the night short—”
There’s a disturbance in the crowd near us, and before I can tear my eyes away from Fifi to see what’s going on, a big leaden hand clamps down hard on my shoulder and rips me away from her.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from my sister.” Vincent doesn’t waste another beat and swings his left fist up, connecting squarely with my eye socket.
I stagger backwards, but I don’t fall. “Fuck.” I bite my lip and blink, but I can still see and I don’t think anything’s broken.
There’s no time for more of a well-being check because he’s ready to throw another punch. Lucky for me, I haven’t had a drink yet to slow down my quick reflexes, and I easily dart out of the way of his next punch and start thinking about punching back.
But people have stopped dancing and they’re forming a small circle around us, murmuring in hushed tones and taking out their phones.
The last fucking thing I want is a film of me brawling with Vincent posted everywhere for posterity. Before I can say a word to try and reason with him or think another thought, he closes in again for another punch. And he’s talking.
“You think I’m a stupid ass?” I don’t answer that question on the grounds that it’ll definitely incriminate me—or incite his reckless anger. I manage to duck away from his next attempt at a punch and throw up my hands.
In my peripheral vision I notice my friends pushing their way to the front of the crowd, and I wave them off because they look ready to jump in and tackle the guy.
“What’s the matter, Jennings? Too chicken to fight back?”
“Too smart to fight back.” The words fire before I can stop them, and he charges at me again.
This time I have no choice but to take a swing and punch back.
I land my fist in his face, on his nose and hear the crunch as it lands.
Pushing him off me, I back up as he bends over, bleeding profusely and cursing like fuck.
Bog grabs a hold of me as I shake out my hand, hoping I didn’t break anything. Fifi and the girls appear.
Fifi grabs my arm and says, “A couple of security guards are headed this way.” Her eyes urge me to stop, but I don’t need convincing. I turn and pull Vincent off the floor where he’s taken a knee.
“We’re done here unless you want to get us both arrested.”
He grunts, pushing me off him, but doesn’t try for another punch as he glances around to see the crowd parting. There are murmurs, and Bog signals for Sully, Henry, Van, and a few other guys from the team to surround us.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, grabbing Fifi’s hand.
Henry nudges his way between me and Vincent as we head en-masse like a walking rugby scrum to the nearest exit.
Once we hit the doors, everyone goes their own way, and I hold tight onto Fifi’s hand and break out into a run.
Pulling her along, we head in the direction of her apartment.
She scampers as best she can in her heels, and I realize she must be freezing, so I pull her against a building, shrug out of my jacket, and wrap it around her.
“Sorry about the mad dash, but I think we’re in the clear. It’s worth losing a couple of coats to avoid answering to the campus police right now.”
She nods, and we trot the rest of the way to her apartment, to our hideaway.
Tonight I’ve escaped, but I know tomorrow will be another story. There were too may phones aimed at my fight with Vince to escape notice of Campus Polcie if they want to find out what went down.