Page 52 of The Kiss Class

CHAPTER ELEVEN

While I getready to head to the arena for practice, my phone beeps with a text. My chest thumps with anticipation, but it’s not a message from My Dream Girl. Apparently recovered from the bout of food poisoning, Hammer wants me to bring him some cereal milk. To be clear, I’m not giving him my ABC milk—Already Been Consumed cereal and just leaving him the milk. It’s a real thing for purchase and is available online along with select grocery stores.

Anyway, I think I got the guy hooked on the stuff.

And I’m hooked on Cara.

Big time.

Seeing her at the game and knowing she cheered me on in the ugly sweater hit different.

With her, I can’t default to charm. I have to work, to try. It’s the same feeling that kept me coming back to the ice day after day, perfecting my crossovers and edgework, that kept me in the basement of our farmhouse practicing stick handling for hours.

It’s the drive to do better, be better, and it’s all for her.

The locker room buzzes because the results of this practiceare going to determine whether we have a cordial Coach Badaszek or will be met with blizzardy Old Man Winter when we play Denver post-Christmas.

While I wrap my stick with tape, the guys razz me about the coach’s daughter wearing my sweater.

“You trying to make a pass at her?” Ted asks with a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“I can no longer count on you being my wingman, so?—”

Redd interrupts. “Save yourself. Don’t finish that sentence.”

I snort. “You guys don’t have it right.”

“But we haven’t gotten it entirely wrong,” Hayden answers, counting off women who fangirl the Frenchman.

“Sure, I flirt, but the puck bunnies always come to me.”

“So modest,” Ted says sarcastically.

“It’s like he took a page from my brother’s book.”

“Canadian pride?” I say dumbly.

He shakes his head. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

Obviously, I don’t know Hendrix as well as his own flesh and blood but have gotten the gist that he can be a goofball. However, if I could say anything about Hendrix, it’s that he’s serious about hockey. Me too. No cap.

Micah adds, “You chat them up. Charm them. You don’t say no.”

“You could say no,” Redd echoes.

“I am from now on.” Because I want to say yes to Cara.

The guys exchange looks like they’re calculating an outcome. Possible queries include:

Will they still have a defenseman tomorrow?

Will Coach be tried for murder?

Will they be implicated?

Then a series of high-fives are exchanged.

Ted hoots. “That sweater. It works every time.”

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