Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The best part?
He’s convinced I’m behind the messages.
I wish.
Unfortunately, my life takes a turn for the worst when Bridger uncovers my secret side hustle. Now he’s blackmailing me, forcing me to stick close—we’re talking 24/7—until he figures out who’s airing his dirty laundry on campus.
I should hate him for dragging me into his mess.
And I do…
Mostly.
Except… the more time we spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore how he looks at me. It's almost like he can see straight through the walls I’ve built to protect myself. Or how his own guard slips, revealing the cracks in his armor when he thinks I’m not paying attention.
The only person who’s ever gotten this close is ColdAsIce17, my anonymous confidant on the school chat app. With him, I can totally be myself.
But what happens when the lines blur between the guy I hate and the one I can’t stop thinking about?
What happens when I realize... they might be the same person?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Western University Chat App
FragileLikeABomb
So, do you message every random profile you come across, or am I just special?
ColdAsIce17
You caught me. I couldn’t resist. The username? Chef’s kiss.
FragileLikeABomb
Fragile and LikeABomb felt on-brand. I’m complicated.
ColdAsIce17
Complicated or dramatic?
FragileLikeABomb
Aren’t they the same thing? What’s your excuse for ColdAsIce?
ColdAsIce17
Thought it sounded cool. Pun intended.
FragileLikeABomb
Did you consider literally any other options?
ColdAsIce17
EmotionallyUnavailable17 was taken.
FragileLikeABomb
That one hits a little too close to home.
ColdAsIce17
Guess that makes us a perfect match.
FragileLikeABomb
Oh no. Absolutely not.
1
Holland
A digital chorus of beeps and dings sweeps through Slap Shotz like a wave as the buzzing of my phone coincides with dozens of others. In the split second before I read the message, I catch the shift in the room. The way conversations die mid-sentence, the collective intake of breath, the sudden tension that crackles through the air like static before a storm.
Anonymous message
Make sure someone sends the hockey ho penicillin in the morning. We all know she’s gonna need at least one dose. Maybe two.
Damn.
Shots fired.
I shouldn’t smile.
I really shouldn’t.
But there’s something darkly satisfying about watching the mighty fall, especially when that fall involves Bridger Sanderson. The same type of texts have been terrorizing him for months now, and no one has been able to trace their source.
Not the tech department.
Not campus security
Not even the chancellor himself.
As far as I’m concerned, Bridger deserves it.
If I didn’t believe in karma before, I certainly do now.
“Oh boy,” my bestie, Willow, mutters from where she’s sitting across from me. “That’s not good.”
“Says who?” I arch a brow, not bothering to hide my amusement.
Willow tips her head in Bridger’s direction. “Probably him.”
Near the bar, I can feel Bridger’s presence like a physical weight. He’s been brooding in the same spot all night, radiating the kind of darkness that makes people give him a wide berth.
Not that I’ve been watching.
Much.
Our eyes meet across the dim space, and that familiar jolt of awareness hits me like a sucker punch. His gray eyes narrow, and I respond with my middle finger, a gesture that feels childish even as I do it.
“Real mature,” Willow says dryly.
“What can I say? I have my moments.”
She flicks a glance at him before refocusing her attention on me. Questions and curiosity swim in her blue depths. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?”
I take a long sip of my root beer to buy time.
Not deterred in the least by my silence, she lifts a brow, prodding me for an answer. Only then do I grudgingly say, “Nope.”
“Ahhh. Now we’re finally getting somewhere.” She holds her hand up. “Stop. We’re bordering on information overload. Why must you be so dang chatty? It’s such a personality defect.”
I roll my eyes as a smile trembles around the corners of my lips.
I love Willow to pieces, but she doesn’t need to know the gory details of what happened between Bridger and me. Most of the time, I wish I could scrub them from my memory.
I’m saved from further interrogation when my phone chimes with a work reminder. Thirty minutes until my shift starts at a job my best friend doesn’t even know I have.
“I need to head out,” I say, already gathering my things.
“Already?” Willow frowns. “We’ve only been here for an hour.”
“Yeah.” I tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “You know I can only handle being around these guys in small doses. Unfortunately for you, I’ve reached my quota of hockey players and drama for one night.”
“Want company?” she offers. “We could watch a horror movie like we used to. I’ll let you pick the goriest one, even though we both know I’ll have nightmares for weeks.”
The offer makes my chest ache with nostalgia.
I miss those days.
Now that Willow has a boyfriend, everything has changed.
“Nah, you stay here and celebrate with your man.” I force lightness into my tone that I don’t feel. “This week has been exhausting. I probably wouldn’t make it through the first murder. And that’s my favorite part.”
“I’m sorry, did you just say murder?” Maverick McKinnon’s eyebrows shoot up. “Should someone warn Bridger?”
“Please.” I grab my bag, glad for the excuse to shield my expression. “If I were going to murder Bridger Sanderson, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to incriminate myself by talking about it. And you’d never find the body. No body, no murder. Isn’t that how it works?”
“That’s...” Maverick glances at Willow. “Concerning.”
“Don’t worry,” my bestie says, tipping her face toward him with a softness that brings a small, wistful smile to my lips. “We were talking about movies.”
He brushes his lips across hers, whispering something that makes her giggle, and just like that, they’re in their own little world. I watch them for a moment, torn between genuine happiness for my best friend and a loneliness that cuts bone-deep. Willow deserves this—deserves him—after everything she’s been through. But sometimes I miss when it was just us against the world.