Page 75 of Made Better Together

“Oh man,” says Bree. “But I get it. He’s hot as shit, and Jason would be too nice for her.”

Never mind that they’ve only been on the peninsula three days, so who the heck really knows—but okay, universe, I get the memo.

I bring out my phone and tap out a reply to Jake.

EDEN: Hi, I’ll definitely stop by Hockey House with some of the team! But I’m not able to get dinner. I’m sorry.

I deliberately leave off the suggestion of “maybe another time” or anything else that would lead him on. To his credit, he doesn’t push.

JAKE: No worries.

Sigh. Decision made.

The next few days are consumed by school and soccer, keeping me too busy to dwell too much on my love life. Helpfully, when I see Jake in class, he’s chill. Even-keeled. He doesn’t seem thrown by the fact I declined the dinner, which is nice.

Too bad he’s not what I want.

Thursday brings another game, again at home. We end up in a draw, 1–1, which is our first non-victory, but at least it’s not a loss either.

When I’m back at the dorm afterward, I still have plenty of energy, a natural adrenaline high that follows a game. Definitely should get a group organized to hang out tonight. With Jake being laid-back earlier this week, I feel even more comfortable having us head to the hockey party.

EDEN: Gathering at the Hockey House tonight? Anyone in?

A flood of “Yes” responses means we’ll have a decent crew for the night.

EDEN: Yay! Meet up in me and Bree’s room at ten, and we’ll head over.

This is going to be fun. It’s only six, though, so I have some hours to kill.

Heading to the bathroom, I pick up my blow dryer, my hair still damp from my post-game shower. Five minutes later, it looks reasonable. A little product later and it’ll be fine for the party.

Maybe I should eat someth⁠—

Knock, knock.

“Eden, some guy is out front for you.” It’s Becky from next door, once again playing building doorman.

Some guy? I look at the clock, and it’s close to seven. But I said no to Jake?

Ugh. I’m literally in my dingiest gym shorts—a high school legacy—and a US Soccer T-shirt. The perfect loungewear after a game, but not exactly “a guy is visiting” type clothes.

Jake isn’t supposed to be here anyway. He’s going to get what he gets.

“Thank you!” I shout back to Becky.

As I make my way to the front lobby of the dorm, I see the back of the visitor’s head, but that’s enough to tell me I was mistaken.

It’s blond, not brown-haired.

It’s Connor.

I stop in my tracks, suddenly self-conscious about my outfit again. Only, he turns around before I can retreat to go change.

His eyes are lit up, intense. I guess we’re back to hot Connor again.

“Eden.” His eyes rove over me, and he adjusts his glasses.

“Hi…”