Charming as Puck(9)

Also, I’m totally not trying them all. Even if she does have a valid point. I tried to make a profile for myself on Date to Mate and almost hyperventilated.

Asking Muffy to match me is basically like asking to not be matched at all.

And then I can slowly get used to the idea of dating.

For real.

“Are you trying just the ones for random hook-ups, or the ones for finding your soulmate?” Alina asks.

Before I can answer, Felicity’s phone blows up with a series of texts.

I freeze, and I probably look guilty as hell, because I have a feeling I know what that’s all about.

And that’s another reason I shouldn’t get mad.

Really mad.

I do some crazy stupid things when I get mad.

Everyone turns to stare while Felicity’s phone keeps dinging.

“Maybe you should check that,” Maren says.

“Or not,” I mutter to myself.

Is it possible to sink through the floor?

Because I’m coming down off the angry high, and now it’s possible I’m having regrets about all of my temper tantrum this morning after I got my phone plugged in at home.

My friends share another look, and Felicity whips out her phone.

Which is still dinging.

My birthday guests crowd around her screen.

I slink toward the bar and take a cautious glance at my own phone, which is—no surprise—already registering in the red on the battery line.

Maybe I shouldn’t get a new phone. Maybe I should totally disconnect and let the world happen.

The bartender has this gorgeous, curly black hair and sweet brown eyes and a dimpled grin that gets bigger as he watches me approach. “Fancy a drink, love?” he asks me in a British accent, and I want to kick myself, because why can’t I be swooning over that?

I tell myself that my problem isn’t that Nick’s the only attractive person in the world.

My problem is that guilt is preventing the swoonage over the bartender.

I’m a truly terrible person.

“Something strong,” I tell the bartender. “Really strong.”

My friends will probably all never talk to me again. Especially Felicity. Because she has this look like she’s starting to put things together.

At least I’ll forever have alcohol.

And pizza without mushrooms.

Everyone rushes to the window overlooking the ice.

“Oh my god,” Alina whispers reverently.

Maren tips her head back and laughs.

And laughs.

And laughs some more.

“Holy shit, I knew having Zeus on the team would bring more antics, but this—this—I have to go.”

Felicity spins, looking for me, and I drop my head to avoid her gaze and pretend I’m digging in my purse for money. It apparently works, because she’s suddenly giving me a quick shoulder hug. “Put that away. The drinks are free in here. I’m having a birthday do-over with you tomorrow. Or the next day. You tell me when you’re free, and I’m there. But this—I have to go get Thrusty. And a camera team. This is gold.”

I don’t ask, because I know.

It really is gold. And since Felicity—and her bratwurst-on-a-rocket puppet, Thrusty—are basically the Thrusters mascot, she needs to get down to the ice and use what she can for the Thrusters’ next promotional video.

I should feel proud, but I don’t.

“What the devil’s going on over there?” the bartender asks me.

I give him a bland I have no idea look and venture closer to the windows. Maren grabs me and pulls me up front. “Look! Kami! The Thrusters got you a birthday present!”

An entire flock of penguins has taken over the ice at Mink Arena an hour before game time.

They’re waddling all over between the nets. Someone’s tossed pucks out, and a few penguins are using them like soccer balls. Security swarms the ice. The thin but growing pre-game crowd is all gathered at the edge of the rink, pointing and taking pictures.

“Fifty bucks says that was Zeus Berger,” one of the girlfriends says.

“Probably Philadelphia sent a present!” My dad chortles.

“My money’s on Nick Murphy,” one of the wives says. “He’s the worst prankster.”

They’re all wrong.

Those penguins?

That was all me. Me and a zookeeper friend downtown.

Because yelling at hockey players?

Not effective.

Pissing off their coach and general management over their use of animals in pranks on the ice an hour before a game?

That cow will be the last farm animal I pull out of any of the guys’ homes this season.





Five





Nick



Apparently today can get worse.

The game’s delayed because we have to wait for a penguin specialist to get the penguins off the ice, then for the Zamboni to do its magic and clean up penguin shit. During the delay, Coach feeds us our asses, then puts me on notice that I’m headed back to charm school—or worse—if he gets one more whiff of any pranks involving animals on or off the ice.

I know what worse means.

I picked a fight with a reporter who touched Felicity wrong after a game last season. I’m the reason the whole team had to go to charm school for remedial lessons in not being Neanderthals.