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THREE

LENNON

The entire walk home, I replayed the last two hours in my head, and by the time I get to my apartment fifteen minutes later, I’m even more annoyed than I was at the rink.

I’ve never met someone so… rude and condescending. Completely unprovoked.

Like seriously, who does this guy think he is?

I slam the front door shut behind me and drop my pink quilted skating bag down onto the floor with a loud sigh, toeing off my tennis shoes by the welcome mat.

“Maisie, you home?” I call out for my best friend as I make my way down the hallway.

When I walk through her bedroom door, passing through the strings of brightly colored beads that hang from the top of the frame, I spot her on her latest thrifting find—a vintage, oversized velvet reading chair that looks like it’s straight out of the seventies.

She’s lying on her back with her head dangling over the edge, her wavy blonde hair cascading beneath her like a waterfall as she holds a worn paperback above her face.

She almost had a heart attack when we found it at one of our favorite antique places in the French Quarter.

I’m not surprised in the least to find her here, sprawled out on a chair, book in hand.

If there’s one thing about Mais, no matter where she is, she’s likely got a romance novel within arm’s reach.

Almost always a paperback because she refuses to read on an e-reader or an iPad, saying that there’s absolutely nothing that could ever replace the feel or the smell of old pages.

One of the things that we both wholeheartedly agree on.

“Ah… Fabio’s Revenge . That’s a new one. Sounds suspenseful,” I say, eying the yellowed, worn pages of the book with the bodice-ripper cover featuring a half-naked guy clutching a girl in a torn ball gown.

She tosses the book down beside her on the art deco–printed chair and flips over to her stomach with a wide grin, waggling her pale blonde brows suggestively.

“I found this used bookstore outside of campus when I stopped in between my creative writing class, and there was a whole box of these, Len. Literally a gold mine.”

As many things as we have in common, there are twice as many things that we are complete opposites about.

And I think that’s exactly what makes our friendship work.

It’s always been easy with her, and in the fifteen years that we’ve been friends, I feel like there’s no one who knows and understands me the way that she does.

Maisie has always been my safe place to land.

She’s the one who keeps all my secrets and is honest even when it hurts.

She tells me when I’m wrong and would defend me with her dying breath, even if I was wrong.

We’ve always had each other’s backs, and now that we’re at OU and roommates, I can’t imagine what my college experience would be like if I didn’t have my best friend with me.

Certainly less exciting.

Suddenly, her brow pinches tight. “What’s going on? You look… annoyed.”

See? Uncanny ability to read me like a book. Almost two decades of friendship will do that to you.

Sighing, I flop down onto her bed and peer up at the ceiling she’s covered in retro floral wallpaper. “Probably because I just met the biggest asshole ever at the ice rink.”

I hear rustling, and then she’s bounding onto the bed and flopping down next to me, propping her head up on her arm. “What happened?”

“God, you should’ve been there, Mais,” I say, sitting up from the mattress and crossing my legs.

“I showed up to the rink for my ice time, which is supposed to be mine for an hour, and there was a guy there. Which, I thought, was no big deal. Clearly, there had just been a mix-up. Except he was the biggest prick ever and rude to me for absolutely zero reason. I mean, a grade A asshole. Seriously. But then again… he was a hockey player, so I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. “

“Did you get his name?”

My shoulder lifts in a shrug when I think back to our parting words. “Saint? Devereaux? Satan is more fitting, therefore I’m only referring to him by that from here on out. I don’t think I could’ve handled another second around him before I ended up in a jail cell.”

It’s not as if he was exactly conversational when he was too busy being an ass.

When Maisie’s breath audibly hitches on his name, my brows lift in confusion.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up ,” she nearly screams, her eyes widening. “ Saint Devereaux ?”

The space between my brows furrows in confusion. “I guess? He is absolutely not any sai?—”

“Wait,” she cuts me off. When she sits up abruptly, I’m even more confused by the expression on her face. “Six foot four, dark brown hair, broody eyes, bad attitude, right?”

I nod, and she continues. “Oh my God. You’re telling me that you’ve never heard of Saint Devereaux?”

“Nope.” The p in my response pops as I shake my head. “Can you tell me why you’re freaking out right now?”

“He is literally a legend at OU, Len. I mean, he’s a dick, but still,” Maisie says, eyes widened.

Hmm. Now I’m intrigued. The only thing I learned about this guy was that he’s an ass with a capital A .

If we’re basing anything off a first impression, I’m good with never having a second.

“This is the most exciting thing to happen to me all year,” she squeaks.

“ Of course you’d end up face-to-face with the biggest playboy on campus, who’s notorious for leaving a trail of broken hearts.

There’s literally a rumor that he’s slept with the entire cheerleading team.

Like… every single one of them. Multiple… at once.”

I do the math on that in my head and scrunch my nose. If that’s true, he’s got to be exhausted. I don’t even get a word in because Maisie continues rattling off. “Ugh, he’s ungodly hot. You’d have to be blind not to notice that, Len, come on.”

Sure, he’s… attractive.

But… he’s also way more of a jerk than he is hot, so it completely cancels out.

Trust me when I say I’ve had enough experience with one egotistical, womanizing asshole to last a lifetime.

Gross.

“Yes, well, honestly, I was trying not to knock him out with his own hockey stick, so I was a little preoccupied.” I snort.

“That’s fair. But you’re the minority. Girls throw every ounce of self-control out the window and toss themselves at him on, like, a daily basis.”

My brows are knitted tightly together as I peer over at Maisie. My best friend is the furthest thing from the rumor mill to ever exist, so I’m starting to wonder how she even knows about this guy. “How is he such a player if he’s that much of a dick? I can’t imagine anyone wanting… that.”

“Dunno. But a girl from my creative writing class was talking about him the other day, that he slept with a girl and then just said thanks and then walked out. He didn’t even put his shirt on before he left.

He walked all the way down sorority row shirtless, with everyone looking at him.

I mean, obviously, no one cares if he’s broody if he has good di?—”

I reach out, slapping my hand over her mouth to cut her off, my eyes wide. “Okay, can we not objectify the jerk that I met earlier today? Seriously, I do not want to think about him any more than I have to.”

The sound of Maisie’s giggles floats past my hand, and I pull it away with a laugh as she says, “Fine. Skating with him should be lots of fun…”

Uh, yeah, right.

“Mais, he was a total prick. Trust me when I say there is absolutely not a ‘fun’ bone in that asshole’s body.

Honestly, I never want to have to see him again, and if I do, it’ll be far too soon.

Today was more than enough. I’m going to call Summer first thing tomorrow morning, and I know that she’ll get this all straightened out.

Then I can pretend this entire thing never even happened. ”

For a beat, she stares at me, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth as she bites back a knowing grin.

Seriously, she can think whatever she wants, but there’s not going to be a repeat of today. It was a one and done, and I plan on never having to subject myself to that torture.

Ever. Again.