God, Maisie, what are you doing? This man wants nothing to do with you. Get it together.
I force myself to look back over at Lennon, my best pretend smile falling easily into place, “Bennett Legros is theleastof my worries, Len. Trust me. I can handle him.”
After spending an hour and a half inside an oversized icebox, stepping inside Jack’s Pizza is like a warm, comforting hug.
The scent of fresh bread and mozzarella floats to my nose, causing my stomach to grumble loudly. Which I’m sure everyone would have heard if it weren’t so packed in here.
Jack’s has always beentheplace to eat on campus. Not only because they have the best pizza in the world—biased, I know—but because the energy and vibes are unmatched.
As a college student who would prefer baking over cooking, I eat here at least once a week.
I slide into the worn red leather booth and peel off my jacket, draping it onto the back as Bennett slides in beside me.
Lennon and Saint sit across from us, already hanging all over each other like they were apart longer than the two-hour span for his practice.
I shoot Bennett a look, and he just chuckles and shakes his head with an eye roll.
As always, we’re the third wheels, but at least we’re not alone.
I’d much rather hang out with my girl as a third wheel than not at all. Truthfully, I don’t mind sharing her with Saint, not when he makes her so happy. I know how good he is to Lennon, and that’s what matters.
Bennett shifts next to me, clutching at his ribs and wincing. “Fuck, I’m not even going to be able to walk tomorrow. What the hell was that practice, man?”
“Thatwas all Hawthorne,” Saint grumbles across from us. “I’m not surprised though. He’s got a reputation for being ruthless on the ice. Didn’t think it would be any different coaching.”
My pulse skitters.
“Clearly,” Bennett mumbles, palm still flattened over his obliques.
I clear my throat. “Uh, what’s the deal with him anyway? Coach Taylor put him in charge of the project that the literacy program is working on.” I shrug as I grab a straw. “But I haven’t heard much about him.”
“Shocking,” Lennon says, staring over at me with a wry expression before poking her tongue out at me.
Fair though.
I usually am the first to hear about campus drama, but when it comes to him? I’ve done my very best to ignore anything once I hear the name.
“I guess I should say I haven’t been paying much attention,” I clarify.
Bennett’s the first to speak up, angling his wide shoulders toward me. “Hawthorne is basically like… the Gretzky of our time.”
I stare blankly at him.
“Am… I supposed to know who that is?”
A low rumble of a groan spills out of Saint, and I look over at him as he shakes his head. “You serious? Sidney Crosby? Alex Ovechkin?” His eyes are wide as he turns to Lennon. “Baby, you know who I’m talking about, right?”
She nods. Her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Duh. But to be fair, you made me watch that YouTube video about them, so that’s the only reason why I do.”
“Thank you,” I retort, rolling my eyes. “Can one of you just finish? Please?”
Saint just shakes his head and looks pointedly at his friend.
“You’re adorable, Mais,” Bennett says with a dramatic sigh. “But not sure if I’ll be able to look past this.” His lip curves into a smirk. “Those are the greats. Gretzky has four Stanley Cups. He’s got more points and assists than anyone else. Like… ever. He’s literally the GOAT. And Crosby? Three Stanley Cups, two Olympic golds. The point is that there have been more times than not that Hawthorne has been compared to these guys. Theselegendsbecause of his stats. Hawthorne’s got three Stanleys, the Calder Trophy. Which is rookie of the year.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes, a look of adoration to the point where I almost laugh.
“Okay, so then how does a guy like him end up as an assistant coach here?” I ask.
It feels like I’m missing something, and for some reason, I want to know what it is.
