“And you’re still wearing it.”
“It matches everything,” I say defensively.
“Uh, huh.” She leans back in her seat to study me. “And you think these guys are your brothers’ teammates?”
“Yup, the masks are too much of a coincidence.”
“Fair point.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “So what happens now?”
“Nothing. Eventually it will end, but for now we are just having fun. I doubt they will tell Levi or Landon—it would sign a death certificate for them all.”
Abigail raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”
Before I can answer, a familiar voice interrupts us. “Mind if I sit? Everywhere else is packed.”
I look up to see Jagger Holt standing next to our table, holding a large coffee and wearing the cocky smile that probably gets him laid on a regular basis. He’s in dark jeans and a fitted gray henley that shows off his athletic build, and his rusty-brown hair is still slightly damp like he just got out of the shower. His hazel eyes meet mine, and my heart does a weird flip, but I tell myself it’s only because he’s objectively attractive.
“Of course,” Abigail says before I can deny him, scooting over to make room on her side of the booth. “I’m Abigail, by the way. Leila’s roommate.”
“Jagger.” He slides into the seat across from me, his knee briefly brushing mine under the table. “I saw you through the glass at the game against Stormhaven.”
“And you’re the one who tried to start a fight with her brother,” she retorts.
“Hey, he threw the first punch.” Jagger grins. “I was defending myself.”
“You blew a kiss at me,” I point out, which only makes him laugh.
“I have done worse things than that to chirp at players.” He takes a drink of his coffee, though his eyes never leave my face. “He earned it with that cheap shot.”
“Should I be taking notes? It sounds like important rival dynamics,” Abigail says. “This whole sports thing is new to me.”
“There’s nothing dynamic about it,” I reply quickly. “Jagger plays for Gravepoint, and my brothers play for Stormhaven. They try to kill each other on the ice occasionally. That’s it.”
“Is it, though?” Jagger’s gaze drops briefly to my throat, and I suddenly remember I’m wearing the choker. “Because you’re here at Gravepoint, wearing our colors.”
I look down at my outfit—dark jeans and a black sweater with the Gravepoint logo embroidered on the chest. “I go to school here.”
“So you do.” His smile becomes more genuine. “Smart choice. Better academics, a better hockey team, and way better coffee.”
“Better coffee?” Abigail laughs. “That’s your selling point?”
“Hey, don’t underestimate good coffee. It’s essential for surviving college.” He gestures to his cup. “Anyway, that’s a nice necklace, Leila.”
My hand automatically goes to my throat. “It’s none of your business.”
Abigail kicks me under the table, but I barely feel it. Something about the way Jagger is looking at me makes my skin prickle.
“So,” he continues, “what are you ladies up to today?”
“The usual,” Abigail says, clearly enjoying this interaction more than I am. “Though Leila here was telling me about some interesting extracurricular activities she’s been up to.”
I want to disappear into the floor. “Abby,” I hiss.
“Really?” Jagger leans forward, his attention now focused entirely on me. “What kind of extracurricular activities?”
“The kind that are none of your business,” I say, but my cheeks are burning.
“Come on, now I’m curious.” His grin widens. “Does it have anything to do with why you keep touching the chain?”
