Page 16 of Forecheck
“Will you hand me that?”
Without a word, Lexie did as I’d asked. “Looks like a message from Brent,” she said when she reached the side of the tub.
I quickly dried my hands on a towel to accept my phone.
My eyes flew over the words on my lock screen, already formulating a response before I’d even fully opened the Instagram app.
“What’d he say?” Lexie asked casually.
Toocasually.
I eyed her suspiciously. “Do you know anything about this?”
“About what?”
I snorted, but followed her lead, reading the message out loud.
@Brent22Jean: Any chance you’d be interested in coming to a Halloween party this weekend?
Lexie smirked when I finished. “He may have asked for my assistance.”
My eyes narrowed. “With what, exactly?”
“Making sure you show up to that party.”
“Lexie…” I groaned.
“Look,” Lexie said, pulling up the little stool I’d bought for my makeup vanity to sit next to me. “You’re too chickenshit to go out on an actual date with the guy, even if it’s something as harmless as drinks. That’s fine. I think you’re insane because he’s hot as fuck, andclearlyinto you, but you do you, sis. This is your chance to spend some time with him with absolutely zero pressure. The party will be packed, and if you get uncomfortable, we’ll be there to have your back.”
“We?”
“You really think I’d let you go alone? Or that Ames, Kimber, and I would miss out on a Halloween party thrown by a bunch of hockey players?”
Fair enough.
“I just…I have so much shit to do this weekend,” I protested weakly.
Lexie crossed one leg atop the other and folded her arms over her chest, staring me down. I was at a gross disadvantage for this argument, a position I hated to find myself in.
“I’m not giving in to a single one of your lame ass excuses,” Lexie said, her expression stern. “So buck up, buttercup. You’re young, you’re hot, and a sexy ass hockey player personally invited you to this party. So you’re going, and that’s the end of it.”
Before I could protest—though, it was impossible to argue with her, which was saying something considering I was in school to become an attorney—Lexie stood and strode from the room.
So that’s how I found myself in the car—Kimber at the wheel, Amelia in the passenger seat,
Lexie and I in the back passing a bottle of tequila back and forth—on the way to Greektown.
“What exactly is this place?” Kimber asked as she stopped at a light.
“I have no idea,” I said, dabbing a dribble of liquor off my chin that splashed when she’d hit a pothole. Hopefully it hadn’t ruined my makeup. I passed the bottle back to Lexie. “Brent just sent me the address and told me to come any time after seven.”
Though it was dim in the car, I saw each of my friends glance at the clock on the dash.
Seven oh five.
“Bit eager, aren’t we?” Lexie asked with a snort.
“Fuck you.”
