Page 112 of A Little Jaded
“Rick, one of Drake’s friends,” he clarifies.
I squint, trying to see if I recognize the guy, but honestly, I think the termfriendis probably a stretch. If I had to guess, he’s a big Grizzlies fan and worships all the players like the rest of Cedar Springs, meaning he’s likely not a fan of me.
Perfect.
“Nice to meet you, Rick,” I mumble. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I start to step around him, but he mirrors my movements, blocking my escape.
“What the fuck are you doing here wearing the enemy’s colors?”
I look down at the Hawks jersey with Everett’s number printed on the front. It’s peeking out from underneath my unzipped North Face jacket, and I frown. “W-what?”
Before I even register what’s happening, the asshole dumps soda over my head. Ice skitters around my feet, and I gasp, jumping back with my jaw slack as I realize I’m now drenched in sticky brown liquid.
“Are you kidding me?” I screech.
“That’s for my boy.” Rick’s gaze slides down my body, and he grins, taking in his handiwork. “Now, get the hell out of our arena.”
I’m so shocked it takes me a second to pick my jaw up from the floor as I stare up at the Grizzlies fan. Like seriously, who does this? How does this even happen?
Rick bends closer, bringing us nose to nose. “Or you can wait until Drake comes out of the locker room. Bet he’d love to see you again and put you in your place.Bitch.”
“Raine!” a voice calls.
My heart jumps to my throat, and I turn toward the culprit when a freshly showered Everett appears. His hair is still wet and pushed away from his face like he combed his fingers through it as he balances his massive hockey bag over his shoulder. With long strides, he moves toward me, his parents flanking his sides. It only makes me feel like more of an idiot. An outsider. A weak damsel in distress. My cheeks flame, and I stare at the ground, desperate to disappear.
Rick scoffs but steps back, giving me more space, only forit to be replaced with Everett’s back as he moves between me and Drake’s so-calledfriend.
“There a problem?” Everett growls. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s coming to my defense. It’s what he does for everyone, apparently. The reminder kind of makes me want to cry.
Lifting his hands into the air, Rick takes another big step backward. “No problem.”
Everett glances over his shoulder at me, taking in my wet, sticky clothes and hair, and turns back to Drake’s buddy. “Did you pour soda over my girlfriend’s head?”
“Everett,” Macklin warns beside him.
Everett’s fists squeeze at his sides, and I wait for the spiral. The chaos. The reared back arm, followed by the grunt of pain and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Instead, Everett steps back, creating more distance between him and the stranger. Desperation and shame nearly split me in two as I grab the back of his shirt and keep my feet planted where they are, grateful for Everett’s heat and maturity because I’m pretty sure if I was dating anyone else, there would be a full-on brawl, and thanks to today’s location, I’m not sure it would end in our favor.
“Best get going,Hawk,” the fan grits out. He says the word like it’s a curse.
“You’re right. We gotta celebrate tonight’s win. Good game, though.” I can hear Everett’s amusement in his voice, and even though none of this is very funny, I can’t deny how the sound tugs at my lower belly.
The fan flips Everett off but turns around and disappears through the exit, leaving me with Everett and his family. In an instant, Everett faces me again and shrugs his jacket off, his eyes brimming with concern. “Here.”
“I’m fine,” I murmur.
“You’re not.”
“I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t.” He offers the coat to me again. “Take it.”
“Ev,” I beg. The dry jacket hangs between us, and I fold my arms. “Can we please…?” My words trail off, and I press my lips together, unsure what to say. I’m embarrassed. Cold. Sticky. I just want to go home.
“Hey.” Everett’s mom interrupts our little staredown. “Your dad and I should probably get going, anyway. I know we talked about grabbing dinner, but how about a rain check?” She steps closer to her son, kisses his cheek, and gives me a smile. “It was really nice to meet you, Raine.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I whisper.
Macklin pulls his son into a quick hug and slaps his hand against his back, mirroring his wife and giving me the same reassuring smile she did. “Nice to meet you, Raine. We’ll see you around, yeah?”