Page 45 of Only Ever You

Her pink-glossed lips flatten for a second, irritation flashing in her eyes. But then, her smile returns. “Well…maybe later.” She says it like she’s sure there will be a later.

Tyler, a guy who used to play hockey with me and Ash, wanders closer. “Dude, what you did on the ice last game was insane,” he says, eyes bright with excitement. He broke his leg when we were ten and never came back to the team. “My dad heard college scouts are coming to town next month. I’m pretty sure you’re on their radar.”

My stomach tightens. Everyone keeps acting like this is great news, like getting scouted at sixteen is a huge honor. And I guess it would be for most people.

But for me? It’s a whole different story.

Because what these scouts really want to know is whether the son of an NHL legend is actually worth anything.

I want to prove I am. That I’ve earned my place on the ice because of my talent, not because of the last name on my jersey. But part of me is terrified they’ll look at me and think exactly what Turner’s parents think—that I’ll never be like Dad.

I force a smile, lifting my cup. “Maybe I am. Guess I’ll need to make sure no one survives my slapshot during our next game.”

The guys around us laugh. A few girls from the cheer squad wave at us, giggling as they pass. Another guy yells my name from across the room, and I raise my cup in response. I have no clue who it is, but I enjoy the attention. The alcohol hits me quickly; after a few more sips, my skin heats up. I talk more, laugh louder, my mood improving quickly.

Sienna plucks the cup from my hand and takes a sip. Then, she edges closer, way closer than necessary. Her perfume is too sweet, too heavy.

“You’re different tonight,” she murmurs, tilting her head. “Relaxed. Not so guarded. It’s nice.”

I blink slowly, the world around me warm and hazy. “I’m just tired.”

She drags her fingers along my forearm. “You’re always so serious, but underneath…there’s this whole other chill side of you. And it’s pretty hot.”

I huff out a sound that’s not quite a laugh. “You think I’m hot?”

Her eyes brighten. “You know I do,” she says, scooting even closer. “I’ve liked you forever.”

I tip my head back, threading my hand through my hair. “Forever’s a long time.”

“Not long enough.”

Her words run together and fade out, and then an image of Isla materializes in my mind. Her dark blue eyes and thick dark lashes. The green specks in her irises when the sunlight hits just right. Her straight but slightly upturned nose. Her smile after a clean landing, the way her cheeks flush when she’s excited, the soft curl of her bottom lip. That stupid, perfect bottom lip I think about way more than I should.

I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I did the night of my mom’s birthday, when I had her on her back on the roof. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more than I wanted to kiss her.

My gut turns over. Why didn’t I just tell her the dare kiss meant nothing? Why did I let it happen at all?

“Michael?” Sienna presses her hand to my cheek.

I jerk slightly, blinking at her.

“You’re spacing out,” she says.

“Yeah.” My voice is rough. “Probably need a break.” I down what’s left in my cup, push to my feet, and stumble. The room tilts. Hard.

Shit.

I’ve been drunk before, but damn, the punch hit like a freaking truck. Too strong. Great. My parents will kill me if I show up smelling like this.

Sienna rises too, hovering. “Let me help you⁠—”

“I’m fine,” I say, the slurred words telling a different story. I need some distance from her and some fresh air.

I round her and head toward Asher, who’s dancing nearby with not one cheerleader, but two, his arms wrapped around their waists. One is blonde, the other is a redhead. Both are a year older than us.

“Dude, I’m having so much fun,” he slurs.

“I can see that.” I rough a hand down my face. “Wanna get some fresh air?”