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"Xavier's taking us to a party later."
23
Piper
Don’t Wait Up
The words practically threw themselves out of me, a Molotov cocktail that couldn’t be held any longer, and as soon as I said them, the same kind of rush took hold of me. Because that’s what it was. A rush to see Adam’s eyes darken, with a twitch to his impeccable jawline.
"Xavier invited you to a party?"
The dangerous way his tone dipped sent my pulse racing. But if he thought that was a Molotov cocktail, I was about to unleash a firestorm.
“Xavier's brother is a hockey player,” I said, pretending to be watching the sad excuse for a dance floor. “He’s in town for the weekend, and Xavier said we’d brighten up the party.”
I snuck a look at the two gorgeous girls Adam brought. They weren’t here for the conference. No way. I would’ve seen them at lunch and gawked a little.
Tightening my stance, I fixed my posture. "So you can have a lovely night with your two new friends—"
"You’re not going to that party," Adam said, leaving no room for argument, like he decided where I wanted to spend my evening. "Hockey players are dipshits. They give each other concussions for fun." He leaned in closer. "You can’t seriously be thinking—"
"Don’t wait up." I smiled at him.
When I first walked into the dance and saw an entire formal that probably took fifty dollars and some rubber bands to put together, it bummed me out. And I’d still been anxious. Because I wanted to talk to Adam. I’d been planning on that, really, I had. Until I saw who Adam walked up with. Then I started planning how exactly I could make him freak out the most.
It was the most immature thing to do. I didn’t even recognize myself. But knowing that didn’t change anything. I couldn’t stop.
Adam’s voice was flat. "You’re not going to the party."
"You don’t tell me what to do."
"That’s not a request." His eyes locked on me, daring me to look away. "You’re not going to a hockey player party. End of discussion."
I sidestepped him and made a slow, leisurely walk towards the DJ table, with a guy who looked around ninety years old, and as far away from the two ladies at the punch bowl as I could get.
"Watch me."
"Piper, I’m serious." Adam cut in front of me with those long legs of his and stopped me in my tracks. "Hockey players aren’t just stupid - they do stupid shit and everyone gets involved in it. You see what Zariah has to go through, rounding them up like dogs. And Elijah? Her brother? He’s fucking weird about the waitress at Gianna’s."
"Sloane?" The pretty redhead made the best caramel nonfat lattes on campus. But I also knew Elijah Contractor. Ruthless. Arguably one of the best players on the hockey team, even if he was a sophomore. I sort of knew about the thing between him and Sloane from Zariah. I bit my lip. "I think it’s kind of sweet."
"It’s weird as shit. He stalks her." Adam shook his head. "You’re not going to that party."
The two girls came up behind him now, a little cautious. We must’ve been louder than I thought, which was a pretty ordinary occurrence with the two of us. But when Adam tried to introduce them, his words faded away. I blinked at the girl with dyed locs. I knew her.
"Nevaeh?" I stared.
The girl raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Um…?"
"Piper Fontaine." I touched my chest.
No way Nevaeh Lewis is in front of me.
The girl next to her jerked up like someone shocked her with jumper cables and her mouth fell open looking at me—wait. I knew her too. Oh my god—Amanda. The sweetest volunteer at the Clean The River project who went through a bad breakup with her ex-girlfriend. I consoled her by the campfire and we made s’mores together.
Nevaeh’s mouth fell open as she gave me a double look. "Piper? Oh my god, I didn’t even recognize you—that dress—"
"Adam." Amanda turned bright pink. "Uh—the plan’s been shot."
