In Your Wildest Dreams (Wildcat Hockey Book 4)

After two days of texting back and forth with Everly, I’m mostly certain of two things.

1. I’m not texting with Ash. I know, that may seem obvious, but it did occur to me that maybe he just gave me two different numbers for him and was gonna be like “Surprise! You can sleep in my bed.” Cue, total ick. But it isn’t him. Or at least I’m ninety-nine percent Everly is real.
2. Ash didn’t lie. She’s nice. Or at least polite via text.

The paper that Ash gave me with Everly’s name and phone number is folded up and tucked into the back pocket of my jeans as I walk up to the adorable little yellow house.

The homes on either side are cute, but more rundown. Typical college housing, but this one looks brand new. The landscaping is meticulous with small plants and fresh mulch. It isn’t anything I would have recognized before, but it has the same look as Ms. Cole’s newly landscaped backyard.

Two steps lead up to a cute little porch that spans the entire front of the house with a white railing and two navy rocking chairs with a small side table between them. It’s like something off the home improvement channels my mother watches.

I’m certain I’ve written down the address wrong when a girl with blonde hair and a huge smile steps out onto the porch. The screen door slams behind her.

“Hi!” Her voice is more tentative than the expression on her face. “Are you Bridget?”

“Yeah. And you must be Everly.”

“That’s me.” She hooks her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans. “Ash said you were pretty.”

I open my mouth, then close it.

“Sorry.” She scrunches up her face. “That was super weird. Forget I said that. Come in. Grace will be here soon. She had a study group on campus.”

Everly turns and holds the door open for me to step in behind her.

My jaw falls open when I see the inside. It still has a new paint smell and the surfaces gleam. We’re standing in the living room, but the kitchen and dining room are visible. The dining room has a rustic-looking table with yellow upholstered chairs around it. Textbooks are laid out all around the top.

“It’s gorgeous,” I say as I take a few more steps. I look back at the living room. A large, blue sectional takes up most of the space. The TV is on Spotify and I smile when I see the name of the station is Harry Styles radio.

“Thanks. Yeah, it’s coming together.”

“You did this?”

“Mhmm. Grace and I already had a few pieces, but the rest we did ourselves. We found those chairs at a flea market and I reupholstered them.”

“I’m impressed.”

“It’s fun.” She shrugs. “Do you want some coffee or tea?”

“Sure. Coffee would be great.”

While she pours me a cup, she points out a few more things that she and Grace bought and Everly refinished. She’s talented.

“What are you studying?”

“I haven’t declared yet, but I’m thinking interior design.”

“I should have known.”

She hands me a mug and we sit together on stools in front of the kitchen counter. “Ash said you were a nurse. Is that what you’re going to school for?”

“Yeah. I’m getting my BSN.”

“That’s so cool. I don’t like the sight of blood, so I don’t think I’d be very good at that.”

“I don’t think anyone does, but you get used to it.”

We make small talk over coffee. I like Everly. She’s not as overly sunshiney as I thought at first, but she wears her emotions on her face and speaks them freely.

I could picture her with Ash. She’s beautiful and confident. Black winged eyeliner frames her hazel eyes. There are two different kinds of women: the ones who can perfect winged eyeliner and the rest of us.

Grace hasn’t shown up by the time our mugs are empty, so she gives me a tour of the house. A nice-sized bathroom with a shower and soaking tub. Three bedrooms, two of which they’ve already claimed for themselves.

“This would be yours,” she says.

I walk into the room. The walls are white, and the floor is the same medium-tone wood planks that cover the rest of the house. It should be drab and unoriginal, but the light that floods in through the window makes it warm and inviting. The room itself is bigger than mine at the guest house, but I’d be sharing a bathroom and living spaces.

But everything in this house is just…nicer.

“How is this still available?” I ask, unable to keep the question to myself.

“We haven’t advertised it. We were still trying to decide if we were going to rent it or turn it into a closet for our shoes when Ash said you were looking for a place.”

I am seconds away from being completely mortified. “Oh my gosh. You aren’t renting this to me as a favor to him, are you?”

“No.” Everly shakes her head adamantly. “We’ve been going back and forth on it, but honestly, I think we were just waiting for the right person to come along.”

“And you think I’m that right person?” Disbelief creeps into my voice.

She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “I think you might be. I have a good feeling about you.”

That blows my mind a little. And so does this house. I can’t live here. Can I? I turn in a circle. The door handle is a cute little crystal flower looking thing with a place for one of those old skeleton keys. It probably doesn’t even work, but it doesn’t matter. Damn that adorable door handle. It does me in.

“This feels too good to be true. Rent is only three hundred dollars a month?”

She nods.

“And I don’t have to sign a contract giving you my firstborn or something?”

“God, no. I’m not even sure I ever want kids of my own.” She leans against the frame of the doorway. “My brother bought this place at a steal and then renovated it. Well, not him specifically. He’s good with cars, but not so great with a hammer.” She smiles and I can see the love and admiration she has for her brother. “Anyway, it’s an investment property for him, so he’s not charging me much to stay here.”

“Wow. That’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah, Ty is pretty great.”

I walk to the far wall and run my fingertips along the smooth wall. “How do you know Ash? Did you two…”

Her face blanches. “Oh my gosh, did you think he and I…” She shakes her head vehemently as she trails off. “We’re just friends. My brother is Tyler Sharp. He plays hockey with Ash.”

“Oh.” Relief that she’s not one of his hookups or ex-girlfriends washes over me, followed by a heavy dose of annoyance at myself because either way, I am so not going there. “Sorry. Ash didn’t say how he knew you and I don’t follow hockey.”

I follow Everly back out into the hallway. Even the light switches are cute—each one is different and looks vintage.

“Do they stop by a lot?” I cringe a little at the awkward question, but I need to know what I’m getting into. Running into Ash all the time could be weird.

“Are you trying to ask if the Wildcats hang out here regularly?” Her gaze narrows slightly on me.

“I didn’t mean…I’m not trying to use you to get more face time with your brother or his teammates. I meant what I said, I don’t really follow hockey.”

Her expression softens. “I didn’t think so, but you don’t grow up with a hot, talented brother and not have people pretend to like you just to hit on him or his friends.”

“I’m so sorry. That has to be awful.”

“Thanks. I always shut it down pretty fast when it happens. It helps now that Tyler is married. So are most of his friends now that I think about it.” She brings one hand to her hip and loops her thumb in the waistband of her jeans, staring at me like she’s trying to figure me out. “You’re worried about Ash using us rooming together as a way to keep asking you out?”

“He told you about that?”

“Yeah, of course. We’re friends. Just friends,” she reiterates.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I admit and feel instantly ridiculous. Ash Kelly going to all this trouble to ask me out again? Yeah, probably not. But I still can’t help but voice my fears just in case. “This was so nice of him, and you for considering it, but I’m really not interested in dating right now. It’s a dumb thing to be concerned about, I know. He’s probably already moved on, but I need you to know in case you were hoping to play matchmaker or something.”

“I love Ash like a brother, so I know I’m biased, but he’s a good guy. If you told him no, then he’s going to respect that. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell the entire team that they can’t stop by without twenty-four hours’ notice and a very good reason.”

That makes me laugh. For some reason I can picture Everly doing just that. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. I like that. And I think I trust her (as much as I trust anyone these days).

“And as for me playing matchmaker, my schedule is so busy this semester, you do not need to worry about that. If I find anyone a date, it’s going to be me.”

I feel like a weight has been lifted at her reassurance.

“Ev?” A voice calls from the living room.

“That’s Grace,” she says and motions with her head for me to follow her.

Grace is quieter than her roommate, but she gives me the same pleasant, friendly vibes as Everly. They finish each other’s sentences and talk each other up to me. Grace tells me how amazing Everly is at picking out stuff for the house and putting together outfits for a night on the town, which I’d already pretty much gotten on my own by all the touches in the house. And Everly tells me how she’s a terrible cook, but that Grace makes the best homemade muffins and pastries on the weekends.

The two of them remind me of my friends from freshman and sophomore year. There were three of us and we did everything together, including sharing a suite on campus, until junior year. I don’t miss them exactly, but I miss having people I can count on. Not for the first time in the last month, I think to myself that I should text them to catch up. But I know I won’t. Too much time has passed and we’re different now. Or at least I am.

“So, what do you think?” Everly asks me when it’s time for me to go. She walks me out, stepping out onto the porch and crossing her arms over her chest to brace against the wind. “Want to be roomies?”

And I guess I do because I say yes.