IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS.

A Briar Univeristy girl walking past the Harvard Square to meet a Harvard guy. You couldn’t really believe it, either—if some of your friends knew, they’d freak out, they were crazy for school spirit and crazy for hockey rivalries, especially those among Boston universities.

You couldn’t help yourself, though. Not, when it was Jake Connelly you were meeting. He wasn’t quite the devil reincarnated as your friend, Hunter, had claimed he was. He was nice and sweet, you weren’t sure if you could call the two of you friends, cause friends certainly don’t kiss one another drunk in a club after a blind-date go wrong.

Or maybe they should. Kissing Jake Connelly was the highlight of that week for you.

You were walking down the street until you’d noticed him, leaning against the side of his car with his arms crossed. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He smirked. “I could’ve picked you up from the station.”