Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Hours later, Holland and I push our way through the crowded arena. Some of the more devoted fanatics have painted their faces orange and black. Just like weeks ago, people are decked out in Wildcat gear and sporting their favorite player jerseys. It would be hard not to notice just how many girls are wearing the same one I am.

When jealousy tries to rear its ugly head, I stomp it out before it can take root.

It’s not just university students who’ve shown up to support their hometown team. People come from all over the state to watch the Western Wildcats play. Especially now that we’re deep in the season and the playoffs are right around the corner. They have an amazing record, and everyone wants to watch them win and be part of their story.

Cool air slaps at our cheeks as we step inside the arena. That’s when the Jaws theme song erupts from my pocket. With a frown, I pull out my phone and stare at it. Mom’s name flashes across the screen.

A smile trembles around the corners of my lips as I hold up the device and shake my head. “Really?”

Holland grins as her eyes dance with humor. “What? It’s funny.”

I arch a brow. “I doubt Mom would think so.”

“Becks doesn’t find much funny, now does she?”

True statement.

The woman needs a life.

Maybe then she would stop trying to commandeer mine.

When the phone continues to ring, Holland holds out her hand. “Please let me do the honors. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

I twist away, giving her my back before answering the call and blurting, “Hi, Mom. Can’t talk. We’re at a game. Love you.”

Then I disconnect before shoving the cell back into my pocket.

“You’re going to catch hell for that,” she sing-songs before adding, “You didn’t even thank her for the care package that was dropped off yesterday. Please let her know that I enjoyed the homemade cookies.”

With a snort, my gaze scans the raucous crowd as I search for our seats. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

It’s strange to sit in the home team section and not with the visitors. This is the first time I’ve attended a Wildcat game with the sole purpose of supporting them and not East Town.

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that the student section is packed. Holland glances at our tickets before pointing to the one filled with a sea of orange and black. “Looks like we’re over there.”

I loop my arm through hers and steer her through the mass of excited fans. It took a lot of cajoling to talk my bestie into attending the game. This is the last way she wants to spend her free time. And I can’t blame her for that. There’s one hockey player in particular she can’t stand and does everything in her power to avoid.

Bridger Sanderson.

She’s always been tight-lipped about what went down between them, but I have my theories.

So, I owe her big time for being supportive.

It takes another five minutes to make our way to our seats. Once we do, I unzip my jacket, revealing the jersey and the turtleneck beneath it. As we settle in, one of the girls in the row in front of us turns.

A smile lights up her pretty face when our gazes collide. “Willow?”

The dark-haired girl with a high ponytail next to her whips around as well.

Britt and Fallyn.

“Hi!” I say in surprise.

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Fallyn says, twisting more in her seat.

“Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention it.”

Or, more accurately, I thought Maverick and I wouldn’t be together.

Wanting to change the convo to safer terrain, I point to my friend. “This is my roommate, Holland.”

Both girls wave after introductions have been made. Holland has never been good at letting new people into her life. The friends she has are ones she’s known forever.

It’s not easy to earn her trust.

I’ve seen a few try and ultimately give up because the walls she surrounds herself with aren’t easily breached. Sadness pricks my heart. Holland is such an amazing person, and I wish more people were able to see that.

It takes a moment or two before I realize that Britt and Fallyn are here with a larger group as a few turn in our direction.

The recognition that slams into me is instantaneous.

Juliette McKinnon.

Her brows draw together before the lightbulb goes off in her head. “Willow, right?”

I nod. “Hi, Juliette. How are you doing?”

She twists in her hardback chair. “Good!” With a smile, she glances at her friends. “Small world. I didn’t realize you knew Fallyn and Britt.”

“Actually,” Britt cuts in before I can respond, “we were grabbing something to eat at Harvey’s when she walked in with your brother.” The last part is emphasized with a cheeky grin and a waggle of her brows.

Fallyn cocks her head. “You wouldn’t by any chance be wearing Mav’s jersey?”

I stare at all three girls and find curiosity filling Juliette’s eyes. That’s all it takes for heat to slam into my cheeks as her gaze drops to the jersey I’m sporting. The front of it has the university emblem, but his name and number are stamped across the back.

“Ummm…” My voice trails off.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Britt says with a smile.

Juliette leans closer. “Are you dating my brother?”

I’m thrown off by the genuine excitement that floods her voice.

“Well, I don’t⁠—”

“If they’re not,” Britt cuts in with a laugh, “he’s doing his damnedest to persuade her to give it a shot.”

“You should have seen the way he was watching her,” Fallyn adds with a heartfelt sigh. “So adorable.”

The blonde sitting next to Fallyn elbows her in the ribs. “Kind of like the way Wolf stares at you almost obsessively?”

Happiness dances in Fallyn’s blue eyes. “I certainly hope so.”

The blonde rolls hers before refocusing on me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carina.” She points to Juliette. “I live with Jules.”

“Willow.” I bump my bestie’s shoulder, who’s silently taking all this in. “And this is Holland.”

Carina stares at Holland for a handful of seconds before narrowing her eyes. “You look really familiar. I feel like we’ve met before. Are you in the dance program?”

Holland snorts. “Given that I have zero rhythm, that’s a very hard no.”

Carina’s lips tremble at the blunt response. “Maybe a gen ed course, then? Or you’ve dated someone on the team?”

I wince when Holland’s defenses go up and her expression turns guarded.

“Absolutely not. I enjoy being disease free.”

A few of the girls stare at Holland with wide eyes before dissolving into laughter.

When I catch her gaze, she jerks her shoulders and scowls. She doesn’t care how she comes across or if they like her.

That’s the beauty of being Holland.

Luckily, they all laugh it off.

Especially Carina.

She flashes a bright smile at Holland. “I think you and I were meant to be friends. Can’t say I didn’t feel the same way before I started dating Ford.”

Everyone’s attention drifts to the ice as the team warms up. Mine fastens on Maverick. Even though they all look similar with their helmets, jerseys, and black pants, I know exactly which one he is.

I’m reminded of how impossible it was to take my eyes off him at the game a few weeks ago. My belly dips when his gaze locks on mine and he lifts a gloved hand to wave.

“So, let me get this straight—you’re all dating hockey players?” Holland asks.

A petite blonde next to Britt shakes her head. “No way. My dad would stroke out if I brought home one of these guys.”

“That’s because he’s the head coach with a strict no-fraternization rule in place,” Britt adds.

“Makes perfect sense,” Holland says. “Trust me, you’re better off.” As soon as that comment shoots out of her mouth, a dull blush crawls up her cheeks.

Carina waggles her brows and presses closer. “Ohhh, I sense a story. Did you get with one of these guys?”

With a shake of her head, Holland grumbles, “No comment.”

“Damn. Whatever the story is, I’m willing to bet it’s a juicy one.”

Thick tension radiates from my friend. Her expression turns stony as her gaze is drawn back to the ice and the players who continue to stretch.

After one of the other girls brings up someone they’re all acquainted with, they change the topic and chatter about that.

“If I didn’t mention it before,” Holland whispers as she leans closer, “you totally owe me for this.”

“Whatever you want.”

One side of her mouth quirks. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Probably. But I’m still glad you came with tonight. I need you here for moral support.” My gaze flicks toward the row of girls seated in front of us. Every so often, they turn, including us in their conversation. “They seem really nice.”

Holland mulls over the comment before grudgingly admitting, “Yeah, they do. Even if they are dating hockey players.”

The girls might not realize it, but they’ve just earned Holland’s rare stamp of approval.