Page 7 of Hot As Ice

“What? Are you serious? What the hell does that creep want from you?”

Feeling a little guilty for giving her a very watered-down version of events, I shrug. “Who knows. He’s an asshole. Be on your guard around him.” Now that I’m gone, that prick might make Melanie a target.

Mel leans back in her seat, a contemplative look on her face. “That’s crazy that Hunter was there.”

“Yeah.” It’s true. It was crazy. Or very, very lucky.

“Well, don’t wait too long to thank him,” she says, a teasing smile on her lips.

I roll my eyes at the innuendo.

After we part ways, Melanie’s words won’t leave my mind. How she said she would turn into a puddle of goo if she ever attempted to flirt with Hunter, or how she’d like to live vicariously through me if I were to date him. Ha! As if. I could never date campus royalty like Hunter. I can only imagine how many broken hearts he’s responsible for.

But that doesn’t really matter. I just have to thank him for saving me and be on my way.

I hurry home after class and wait for Becca. I’m itching to go to Finnegan’s, but I sure as hell am not going to do it alone.

Becca is from Los Angeles, and my complete opposite, but we get along great. She loves to dress up sexy, go to parties, and stay out all night. A typical extrovert. She’ll be the perfect wing woman tonight.

The moment she walks in the door, I pounce.

“Can you come with me to Finnegan’s tonight?”

Becca looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Excuse me?” She toes off her sneakers and puts on her house slippers, still looking at me like I’m insane. “Who are you and what have you done with Stevie?”

“Shut up. Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I can’t go to a bar.”

She looks at me intently, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head. “You know what, I’m not even gonna ask. This is such a rare occurrence, I’m just gonna go with it.”

I squeal. “Thank you! You’re the best.”

“Yes, I know. You’re going to need one of my fake IDs though.”

A couple hours later, we’re in my car, driving across town to Finnegan’s. I’m wearing jeans and a white tee, but Becca got a little more adventurous and put on a black crop top, dark jeans, and gold statement necklace. She looks sexy and confident. I just look boring.

My stomach is in knots as I drive to Finnegan’s. I’m nervous because I’m stepping completely out of my comfort zone. I’ve never been to a bar, let alone a popular college bar full of people. Becca’s fake ID is in my sweaty palm and I keep looking down at it.

“Bec, I don’t look anything like the girl in this picture.”

“You don’t have to look like her. You just need an ID that says you’re over 21. The bouncers don’t care.”

“How come?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. As long as it gets us in.”

Clutching the fake ID in my hand, I don’t say anything else the rest of the way. I’m convinced I’m going to be thrown out by the bouncers, but Becca turns out to be right. The bored, burly guy at the door barely spares me a glance after checking my ID, and then Becca and I are in.

Finnegan’s is packed to the brim. There are TVs all over the walls, showing different sporting events on each one. College students crowd the bar, lines deep, ordering drinks and shouting over each other. Becca leads the way through the throng, holding my hand. I watch as several guys give her interested looks, but she ignores all of them.

We join the long line of people waiting to order drinks. Becca turns to me. “So, what do you wanna drink?”

“A lemonade,” I answer.

“A lemonade,” she deadpans.

“Yeah.”

“We came all this way and I gave you one of my precious fake IDs for a lemonade, Stevie?”