There’s no way I’ll look at him the same after this.

“What do you say, Penelope?” he whispers. “It’s what I think is best, if you want to continue this relationship. What do you think?”

“I think we’re fucking over.” I push him away—hard, and head to the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated scream and vow to call Kayla and tell her that she was dead wrong about me coming to this party.

I don’t want to wait for her to get here; I just want to go home.

As I’m splashing my face with water, a soft knock comes to the door.

Someone opens it before I can lock it shut.

“Last time I checked—” Hayden steps inside. “You’re not twenty-one years old yet. I don’t think you’re supposed to be drinking at a college party.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Dad. Last time I checked, you’re no longer in college, so you’re not supposed to be here either.”

He looks like he’s about to fire off more sarcasm, but his expression softens. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“Because I’m skipping practice for this terrible party.”

“I can see that.” He smiles. “I’m sure your opponents would be quite pissed to know that you have tons of extra time to spend on dating.”

I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult, so I don’t respond.

I lift the red cup to my lips, but he takes it and hands me a water bottle instead.

“All bullshit aside.” He looks genuine. “What’s wrong, Penelope?”

“I’m not talking to you about this.”

“If you don’t, I’m calling your brother and you can tell him.”

I’m tempted to call his bluff, but he pulls out his cell phone.

Ugh. Traitor. “I was planning to spend the night here when everyone went home, so I could …”

“Give away your virginity?”

“Hang out with my newest boyfriend.”

“You moved on from the last guy pretty fast.”

“Not as fast as you.” I gulped down the water. “Anyway, we’ve been arguing a lot more lately, so I came here so we can make up. But then he said he’d only do it if I gave him a threesome with one of my teammates.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me.” I avoid his gaze and sigh. “Travis hasn’t sent me any money lately, so I can’t pay you for gas right now. Tomorrow?”

“Not so fast.” He tilts my chin up with his fingertips. “Why would he ever have the nerve to ask one of your practice mates to join you in a threesome?”

“Because every guy who watches Kayla Lilith skate for all of five seconds is instantly turned on. He probably thinks we’re close enough friends that we’d want to share him.”

“Penelope, Penelope, Penelope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t see what’s going on here?”

“Yeah. You’re trying to make me feel worse about another breakup.”

“I didn’t make you feel bad about the first one. I only gave you my honest opinion.”

“You said that I have the body of a twelve-year-old girl.”

“Twelve-year-old boy.” He has the audacity to smile. “That’s a fact, though.”

“I’m walking home now.” I try to move past him, but he blocks me.

“First of all, your ex-boyfriend is too old for you—again. If the next guy you find can have a beer with me with a real ID, then he’s too old for you. Clear?”

I cross my arms.

“Second of all, your practice-mate—who rarely ever talked to you, until recently, probably came onto him at some point. Or, vice versa. They’re both shitty individuals, but the threesome has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.”

I mentally rewind my last few conversations with Kayla and remember how she spent more time talking about how “cute and sexy” Brody was than anything else.

“So, I was dating another cheater?” I ask.

“Another cheater with a backstabber’s influence,” he says. “There’s a slight difference with this one.”

My blood begins to boil. “What would you do if you were me?”

“I’d tell Hayden that he’s the smartest man I’ve ever met in the world. Then I’d vow to be a lot nicer to him and learn to say, Thank you.”

I give him a blank stare, and he laughs.

“I would leave this house, call the cops on my way out, and tell them that you saw a minor drinking at this party.”

“You want me to ruin the night for everyone else?”

“You asked me what I would do if I was seventeen.” He shrugs. “I’d use up the last of my immaturity while I could, especially if my feelings were involved.”

“What about Kayla?” I ask. “Does she get off scot-free in this?

“Depends.” He returns my red cup. “I’ll be across the street. You have three minutes, and then I’m driving you to the rink so you can make up for lost time.”

“Because you actually care?”

“Because I made a promise to your brother.” He walks away, and I let out a breath.

I look myself over in the mirror one last time and leave the room, pushing my way through the bodies on the living room’s makeshift dance floor.

Completely shameless, Brody is pressing Kayla against the wall—laughing in between kisses.

I stroll right over and tap his shoulder.

“Yes?” He turns around. “Changed your mind so soon?”

“No, fuck you,” I say. “I just want to make sure you know how big of a douchebag you are.”

He smiles, looking completely unfazed. “Thanks for the reminder that I don’t need to date any more high school girls. You’re not mature enough to handle the complex things in life.”

Welp. I’m definitely calling the cops.

“Poor little ice princess,” Kayla says, confirming our friendship meant nothing. “I guess you can’t win everything in life. How does it feel to finally lose?”

I toss my drink in her face. “Pretty damn good.”

I turn away without another word and make my way through the guests. I call the police and report the house as I’m walking toward Hayden’s car.

When I slip inside, he cranks the engine.

We ride in silence for several minutes, and I stare at the words “Future Billionaire” that he’s etched onto his dashboard.

“This little incident doesn’t make us friends,” he says, once we reach a red light. “I need you to know that.”

“The two of us will never be friends, Hayden.” I roll my eyes. “But since we’re stating the obvious, I hate the new name of your dating app even more than the first one.”

“Something tells me that you’ll hate it even when I become a billionaire.”

Right.

“I practiced for three extra hours every day this week just in case I went out tonight,” I say, changing the subject. “I’d rather go home and think about things.”

“That’s the last thing you should do,” he says. “Idle thoughts won’t get you anywhere. You should at least work through your short program a few times.”