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“She got the message because he looks at you like you’re a three-layer cake and he wants to eat the whole thing with his bare hands.”

She rolls her eyes, but I see the pink flush in her cheeks. “I just think that after Brent saw you kissing Axel in the bar the other night, it makes sense to imply that this is more serious than a one-night thing.”

If she only knew about our real one-night stand. I run my hands down my thighs, the guilt of lying to her a weight on my shoulders. “Don’t you think Axel would have a problem with it? You and I both know walking around in a guy’s jersey means something. Something we’re not. It would be like wearing a sign that says ‘cockblocker’ to any other girl he’s interested in.”

She shrugs, shoving the shirt into my hands. “He’s not interested in anyone else right now. Or at least it doesn’t seem like it. You know I stay over there a lot, and the parade of puck bunnies going in and out of there like Grand Central Station has come to a complete stop.”

It feels weird to hear confirmation that he’s holding up to his end of the pact. I never thought he’d really give up sex entirely. Why should he? That’s not his problem. It’s mine.

But I can’t deny that hearing her confirm it loosens something in my chest, and I’m not sure how to identify the relief that follows.

“He’s trying to focus on the game right now,” I tell her. “At least that’s what he told me. He feels like he let the team down when he failed the drug test so he’s partying less. I guess that includes women.”

Twyler nods. “Reese is really proud of the work he’s putting into it. Between us, he wasn’t sure if he could–or really–would, do it.”

I don’t tell her how hard making these changes have been for him–on both of us–and that we’ve been leaning on one another for support because I’m pretty sure her approval would disappear. “I think he’s really trying.”

“Well, if you want me to steal a hoodie for you the next time I’m over, I’m on it.” Her eyes widen. “Oh, or you could get one yourself at Friendsgiving on Sunday.”

Shit. I’d forgotten about that. “They’re not really my friends, Twy.”

“Of course they are. Reese, Reid, Axel…”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“They want you to come. And even more, Ineedyou to come.” Her gaze flicks behind me and I know she’s looking at the group of puck bunnies that come to every game and party. They have their own little section and they have no problem wearing various jerseys with the players’ names on them. Discreetly, I turn, and see that one girl with long blonde hair has on Axel’s number.

My nails dig into my thighs.

I’ve been that girl before, desperate for a player’s attention. Her clear blue eyes meet mine and something passes between us. A familiarity. Does she know who I am? Does she know I slept with Axel? Kissed him in the bar?

Does she know he got my initial tattooed on his body?

Hell, I don’t know if she’s done the same with him and honestly, it’s none of my business.

“Reid and Darla broke up, which means I’ll be the only girlfriend,” Twyler continues. “Jefferson’s been on a tear through sorority row, so I expect at least a couple girls I don’t know to be there, and I’m sure Reid will be licking his wounds with at least one puck bunny.”

“What about Axel? You just said he’s flying solo these days.”

“And he’s totally cranky about it.” She grips my arm. “Please come? You don’t even have to cook. I’ll bring enough for both of us. Just don’t leave me alone with these people.”

“Fine. I’ll come.”

“Thank God.” She sighs in relief and looks at my long sleeved work shirt with the Wittmore Gym logo on the chest, then down to the jersey. “You gonna put that on?”

I’ve gone three years without wearing an athlete’s jersey. My goal had been to actually date the player first. For him to claim me. It had never happened. But Axel isn’t a guy I want to date.He isn’t going pro. Like Twyler said, he’s a friend, and he’d offered to buffer me from other guys, which is important right now.

I slip the shirt over my head, pulling it over my head. There’s a torn, frayed spot at the bottom and when I lift the fabric to my nose, it has a warm, musky, clean scent. “Where did you get this?”

“Out of the team manager’s room. They swap out uniforms all the time–this one was in the bin for damaged jerseys.”

The music blasts, announcing the end of the participant game. The winners carry off their prizes, T-shirts and a few Badger plushies. The buzzer sounds and all eyes are on the players as they skate out of the tunnel. Twyler’s on her feet, cheering on her boyfriend and my eyes are glued to the goalie as he heads across the ice to the net. Right before the whistle blows, his head lifts and he searches the crowd. It’s impossible to know with that mask on, but I sense it when he finds me, and something hot slams into my chest. I exhale loudly.

“You okay?” Twyler asks, frowning at me.

“I’m fine, just a long day, you know.” The whistle blows and the boys lunge into action.

“Long semester,” she agrees. “I can’t wait to have a few days off for Thanksgiving.”