Rooming With My Ex-Mate's Hockey Star Brother

SADIE

Her voice carries over the seats. People turn. One girl looks between our jackets and murmurs something to her friend, and suddenly I’m aware of every inch of fabric against my skin.

Judging by her smile, Dixie is getting exactly what she wanted.

I face her again. ”What makes you so sure mine is fake?”

”Because I’m wearing one.” She gives the front of her jacket a small tug. ”Trey isn’t going to give you a second one. We go way back, Sadie. I know what he would and wouldn’t do.”

For a second, I just stare at her. Then a laugh slips out. After all that fuss with her jacket, her proof is that she’s wearing one?

Nia pinches my arm. ”Sadie,” she murmurs, leaning closer, ”let’s just find somewhere else. Or we can see where their tickets are and sit there.”

I know she wants to save the night. So do I. But giving Dixie our seats won’t do it.

”I’m not going anywhere,” I say, loud enough for the whole row to hear.

Maybe it’s because Dixie got me kicked out of the WAG group, took seats reserved for my team, and has spent the last few minutes trying to humiliate me over a jacket. I used to stand quietly through things like this and hope the other person got bored. That good little omega did everything she could to avoid trouble. I’m not that girl anymore.

And I know what she’s doing. She wants everyone here to think she has a claim on Trey. If she were so sure of that, she wouldn’t need to make a show of it. She keeps pointing at my jacket so nobody takes a closer look at hers, and I’m damn sure she knows why.

I step closer. ”You’re funny. I’ll give you that. But since you’re so sure mine is fake, why don’t you prove yours is real?” I glance at the people she made sure were listening. ”Go on. Show us what I’m supposed to be missing.”

Dixie’s nostrils flare. The smile comes back a second later, but she doesn’t touch the jacket again.

”Why would I do that for you?” She turns slightly toward the crowd. ”Anyone who follows me knows I wear the real thing. I just landed a collab with Blü Berri Athletics, actually.”

”Preach, girl,” one of her friends cuts in.

”Yeah, tell her.”

”What the fuck is a blueberry?” Priya mutters behind me.

Marcus pushes up his glasses. ”She asked about the jacket, not your résumé.”

I nearly smile. His vow not to argue with women lasted all of five minutes.

Around us, people have stopped pretending they aren’t listening.

”Sadie’s only asking because hers is fake,” someone says.

”Isn’t she the girl Trey was with at that party?”

”I heard she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

”Dixie wouldn’t wear a fake,” another voice cuts in. ”She’s an influencer.”

Great. My jacket has a jury now, and half of them have reached a verdict without seeing anything beyond the sleeves.

I breathe out slowly. The game is going to start soon, and Dixie is still standing in front of the seats my team came here to occupy.

”We can settle this,” I tell her. ”If mine’s a replica, show everyone what makes yours real.”

”The printing.” She comes up with it after a pause. ”Look at yours. It’s cheap. It’s fading. Mine’s the real thing.”

”The printing,” I repeat, glancing down at my jacket.

”Yes. Keep up.”

I lift my gaze. ”Are you sure you know Trey as well as you keep saying?”

Her face hardens. ”What, because you followed him around at one party, you think you know who he gives things to?”

”I’m asking because if you know Trey that well, he should’ve told you.” I meet her eyes. ”The authentic jackets have a tag sewn inside.”

Dixie goes still. It lasts only a second, but one of her friends notices too and looks down at her jacket.

”What tag?” someone behind me asks.

”Why didn’t Dixie mention that?”

”Maybe Sadie’s telling the truth.”

”I told you Trey knew her. He defended her at that party.”

A couple of phones come up. Dixie’s friends have gone quiet, which is a nice change from preach, girl.

I lift one shoulder. ”How did you miss that detail?”

”Because I don’t inspect gifts for proof they’re real.” Dixie pushes a hand through her hair. ”Trey gives me something, I wear it.” She holds up her wrist. ”This bracelet is from him too. It’s on his Instagram. You’re welcome to check.”

”Great. Then showing us the tag shouldn’t be a problem. The QR code takes you to his athlete profile.”

Dixie’s arm drops. ”Why am I the one who has to do it?”

”You’re not.” I shrug out of the jacket, feeling every eye in the row follow the movement. ”I’ll go first.”

A few people lean forward as I turn out the collar and show them the tag. I scan the code, wait for the page to load—three long seconds that feel like thirty—then hold my phone up for Dixie.

”Can you see it?”

Behind me, Priya snorts. ”She could spot a fake from ten feet away. Surely she can see a phone right in front of her.”

Dixie’s eyes flick toward the crowd. Nobody is talking about my jacket anymore. They’re looking at hers, waiting for her to turn it inside out.

She could have moved out of our seats and let me enjoy my first game. I would’ve been perfectly happy to forget she was here. Goddess knows I mind my business when people let me.

”This is stupid.” She pulls out her phone.

On that, at least, we agree.

Her fingers move across the screen, and I wait for her to scan her own tag.

She taps a few times, turns away from me, and lifts her phone with a bright smile already in place.

”What is she doing?” Nia asks. On Dixie’s screen, our faces appear behind hers.

”Hi, everyone!” Dixie waves at the camera. ”It’s Dixie, here to bring you the best highlights from tonight’s hockey game. You know how much I stan Boreal. That’s never changing.”

She adjusts the angle of her phone, moving herself out of the center and putting me there instead.

”And look who I found. This is Sadie, who runs the little Quiz Bowl club here at school.” She smiles at me as if we’re sharing a joke. ”She’s supposed to be the smart one, but she thinks I came to the game wearing a fake hockey jacket. Trey’s jacket, of all people.”

Dixie leans back into the frame. ”Yes, that Trey. I’ve known him outside the rink too, much more personally than Sadie seems to realize. But I’ll save that story for another time. First, can you guys tell her whether I’d ever wear a fake?”