Page 43 of Falling Like Snow

Daphne grins. “You too. And we’re right in that section”—she points through the glass rink doors to an area in the bleachers near the end of the ice—“if you want to join us.”

“Cool. Thanks,” Hannah says. I give her a small wave before Preeti tugs us through the doors, back into the cold rink.

“Why do you have murderous eyes?” Preeti asks me as she drops my hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” Hannah says, putting her hands on her hips. “You got salty with Asher today when we were talking about him tutoring Daph, and just now you looked like you wanted to rip her head off.”

“Ugh. I don’t know, okay?” I say.

“Are you jealous?” Hannah asks.

“What?” I practically yell.

“She’s getting your favorite person’s attention. He might like her. She might like him. And now he’s apparently lying to us for some reason. Something is clearly going on between them.” Hannah lowers her voice when she says, “I’m just saying you seem jealous. Are you… into Asher?”

My face heats. “Hannah!”

“Yikes. Did you seriously go there?” Preeti mumbles to her.

“What? It wouldn’t be all that crazy,” Hannah says defensively. “I mean, it would be because you two have always been friends, but it wouldn’t be in the sense that Asher’s hot and loves you more than I’ve ever seen anyone love another human.”

“Absolutely not,” I say, even though I’m suddenly warmer than I should be in this rink.

Hannah squints at me, like if she looks hard enough, she’ll be able to see my thoughts. Then she sighs. “Okay. Whatever you say. I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you!” I turn to head back to the bleachers where we left our coats. “You know I deal with that crap from everyone else. You can’t start too.”

“Okay, I won’t. Girl Scout’s honor,” Hannah says, holding up three fingers. “And that’s good, because you have a dreamy hockey player thirsting after you, and I’m invested in seeing where it goes.”

“Sloane Sullivan!” Micah’s deep voice calls when we round the turn on the outskirts of the ice. My gaze flits to the players’ bench, where he’s holding his helmet, his skates adding inches to his already impressive height.

“Speak of the dreamy devil,” Preeti says out of the corner of her mouth, making me laugh.

We approach the bench, and Micah’s grin widens. “You came.”

“I did.”

“Must be why we’re winning,” he says. Hannah lets out a groan but is clearly entertained.

“You win every game,” I remind him.

“How would you know?” he asks. “You don’t pay attention to hockey.”

This time I give him an undiluted smile. “I asked around.”

He laughs as the buzzer sounds. “You should come out with us afterward.”

“Come out where?” I ask.

“Not sure yet. We always go somewhere after games, though.”

“Cook, let’s go,” the coach says from behind him. “Head in the game. You’ll have time for girls later.”

“Got it,” Micah calls behind him as he slides his helmet on. He leans toward me, with his perfect crooked grin and remarkably green eyes. “But I only want time for one girl.”

My friends’ jaws drop, and I am positive that I’ve never been redder in my entire life.