CHANGE OF PLANS
EVIE
I grit my teeth, but Kyle doesn’t notice. He keeps explaining the game, even though I’ve told him twice that I understand hockey.
How unfair that Viktor is not only the best player, but also stronger and handsomer than anyone else.
Although, Jordan was right about the men who rescued me.
When I took my thank-you gifts to Roy Matsumoto and Jack Sinclair, I stood stammering on their doorstep.
Mats looked like a fashion model, and Jack was exactly the kind of cheerful, clean-cut guy I had fantasized about dating here.
Until I met Viktor and he became my new standard for male perfection.
Kyle is now explaining the offside rule, even though I didn’t ask.
He’s blond, blue-eyed, round-faced, and pleasant enough.
I came to the game with my Alpha Z sisters, but Monarch games are a big social event, so now our section is full of guys from Delta Theta Pi, the top fraternity on campus and our brother frat.
Many of our sorority events seemed to focus on meeting men. It’s not my preference, but I do need help in male/female socializing to reach my goal of getting a boyfriend.
Is Kyle a good candidate? He’s a nice guy, and he seems to be interested. But where’s the excitement I felt with Viktor?
Kyle moves from hockey to my lack of pop culture knowledge, something I’m becoming infamous for. While I understand that it’s a conversational device, I still dislike the teasing. Do I mock people over their inability to identify European countries on a blank map?
How can you never have seen Peaky Blinders? Euphoria? Okay, what about The Office? Everyone’s seen The Office. Were you living under a rock?
Luckily, Viktor scores a goal at this moment, saving me from having to admit to my under-rock existence before Monarch.
We’re all up and cheering as Viktor glides towards the bench. He looks up at the crowd, and for a moment he seems to look right at me. How would he even—no, I’m being ridiculous. It’s all part of my crush, imagining interest where there is none.
See, I told you to watch him, Kyle brags, as if he were the one who made the perfect shot while being crosschecked to the ice. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
Dawdling there, I wash my hands, brush my hair, and then check my phone. There’s a message from an unknown sender.
Can you meet me after the game? V
My entire body freezes. Then I look again to make sure I’m not hallucinating. I mean, it must be from Viktor, right? I run through everyone I know at Monarch, and the only other V is Vanessa on my residence floor who has never even said hello.
Also, he knows I’m at the game. He saw me in the crowd. Wow, wow.
Of course I want to meet him. When I made those varenyky for him, I hoped to hear something, but all I got was an assurance from Antoine that Viktor enjoyed them.
But why does he want to meet? After all, he’s the one who said we shouldn’t see each other.
Maybe he’s just going to tell me off again.
Get a life, little girl. Stop obsessing about me and sending me food.
And what about the Revenge Squad? Would they disapprove of me seeing Viktor again?
Even though we all agreed that nothing bad should happen to him, it feels… risky.
I’m sorry, I have plans, I write back to the anonymous V. I’m supposed to go to a coffee shop with some sorority sisters.
Of course, I immediately regret sending that reply, since I really want to see Viktor again. But this is the safer choice.
Evie, hi!
I turn to see Jordan, followed by Angelica. I shove the phone deep into my purse as if they could read the text thread from across the restroom.
Hey, how are you guys? My voice sounds falsely enthusiastic, but they don’t seem to notice. Angelica disappears into a stall. Jordan stands beside me in front of the mirror. She brushes her hair and reapplies her lip gloss.
You shouldn’t go to the washroom alone, Jordan advises me. It’s something I’ve noticed, how Alpha Zs always move in groups, even to washrooms.
I nod politely. I don’t want to debate the weirdness of urinating together or waiting while the other person goes, as Jordan is doing. There are a lot of unwritten rules at Alpha Z that I already want to rebel against.
Jordan beams at our reflections in the mirror. Isn’t Vik playing awesome tonight? I mean, when he scored that second goal, I felt like standing up and screaming, ‘I’ve hit that!’
You and half the women in the arena. Angelica emerges to wash her hands.
He is a really good player, I admit, then worry that I’m gushing and they’ll be able to tell that I like him.
You know what’s so weird? Jordan asks me.
Aside from this whole conversation as we compliment the guy we once tried to take down? I shake my head.
He hasn’t dated anyone since Des! That’s like almost a month. Vik is famous for always having someone on tap, so how can that even be?
Maybe he learned his lesson after their breakup? I venture.
Angelica snorts. Vik? Hardly. There must be a secret hookup. He’s got a really high sex drive. Where’s all that energy going?
Into hockey? My voice breaks like a pubescent boy’s at the mention of Viktor’s sex drive. The heated way he looked at me is seared into my brain.
She laughs at me. I didn’t mean to shock Miss Lily White. Too bad you never got to ride the Z-train. It’s incredible.
Jordan snorts. Yeah, they don’t call him Big Z for nothing.
Oh my goodness, isn’t that because he’s tall and muscular? I must be turning red because Angelica peers closely at me. Wait. Do you have a crush on Viktor?
Absolutely not, I lie.
He did rescue you at that party like a real-life superhero, Jordan points out. I’ve fallen for guys who did a lot less.
Angelica puts her hands on her hips. Maybe you’re the one who’s secretly getting him off? When’s the last time you saw him?
Not since the day after that party, I reply, happy that it’s the truth.
She nods dismissively. Yeah, why am I even wondering? You couldn’t hook Vik with a whole squad behind you.
Jordan shakes her head in disagreement, but Angelica just cackles as they leave. I pull out my phone again. To heck with the Revenge Squad.
Change of plans. I’m free now.
I send the new message. Take that, Angelica.
You’re not coming to the pub? Cecily Howard asks after the game. She’s also a new Alpha Z who lives at Humphrey, so we usually travel together.
I shake my head. People here are very casual about underage drinking, but they don’t have my strict father. I’m going to the coffee house with Savannah and the others. The others who don’t have fake ID.
She leans closer. Did you know that the hockey team goes to the pub after games? You’re missing your big chance to meet them.
Actually, I’m not, but I can’t admit that. It was a fun night, I reply, changing the subject.
That hockey game was the best one I’ve ever been to, she says. The final score had been 6–2, and Viktor scored a hat trick.
I agree, and not just because I’m going to meet the first star.
At the coffee shop, five of us drink tea or lattes and play board games.
It’s low-key and enjoyable, but I’m distracted by nervous anticipation.
Any doubts I had about V’s identity were dispelled by his bossy instructions on exactly where and when we should meet.
When I finally get there, I’m early, so I’m surprised to see a tall figure leaning against his car.
With his collar flipped up against the October night, he looks both stylish and daunting.
I’m magnetically drawn to him. Just the brush of his hand against my skin created a warmth that I’ve been reliving for the past two weeks. All my life, I’ve opted for safety, but now I’m drawn to a man who feels dangerous.
Hi, Viktor.
Evie. His deep voice thrills me. Then he looks me over from head to toe, his gaze hungry.
Wordless, he opens the car door. I slide by him and get inside. The door slams shut, and I’m once more cosseted in the luxurious safety of his car.
Or am I trapped? I shiver, which Viktor notices as he gets in.
You should be more warmly dressed, he chides.
Well, I had a hat but I threw it on the ice, I explain.
Finally a smile cracks his stern face. Thank you. But you can reclaim your hat. There’s a bin by the main entrance. We don’t want our fans to freeze once it gets really cold.
You must know all the hat trick etiquette. You’ve probably scored more than anyone else on the team.
He doesn’t confirm this, but his smile widens a little. You’re a hockey expert?
Not an expert, but I’ve watched a few games. My father attended a lot of KHL games, both because he likes hockey and because they are the perfect space for clandestine meetings. At least that’s what I suspected when he would disappear and leave my mother and me watching the game alone.
There’s so much I don’t know about you. The scowl is back. Why do I find grumpy Viktor so attractive? Perhaps because he is attractive regardless of expression? Or because I want to make him smile?
He turns on the ignition. Are you hungry?
I rub my tummy, which is full of tea and arena fries. Not really.
He checks his mirror and eases onto the quiet street. Then let’s go for a drive.
I still have no idea what’s going on, but I decide to relax and enjoy just being in Viktor’s company.
The streetlights flicker over his face, outlining his high cheekbones and deep-set eyes.
My gaze stops on his mouth, the fullness of his lips in contrast to his habitually stern expression.
How soft would his mouth feel on mine? Or maybe his kiss would be hard and demanding.
When I tear my eyes away from Viktor’s mouth and back to the road, we’re cruising along a dark two-lane highway.
Don’t get in a car with a stranger. Don’t let yourself be taken to a second location. Stay in bright, populated areas, I recite the woman’s safety checklist because I’m such a brilliant conversationalist.
Am I a stranger? You’ve slept in my bed, he replies.
But not when you were in it, I point out.
Yes. A shame, really.