Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER ONE

MEGHAN

“R

emind me again why the fuck I’m here? And where in the hell we’re going?” I ask from the backseat of Jackson’s SUV.

Sitting in the passenger seat is Katelyn, aka Kitten, Jackson’s finance and my oldest friend. I don’t know our destination. All I know is that I was told to dress warm.

I know right? What a load of shit.

So here I am, wearing my favorite pair of jeans. And when I say "favorite", I mean my most tolerable pair of jeans. I don’t know anyone who actually loves wearing hard pants. Maybe skinny bitches? But skinny bitch, I am not. For me, jeans are worn to look good, and to stand in. Sitting in tight jeans is probably on par with waterboarding. I’m fairly certain it’s listed in the Geneva code as torture. So, I’m suffering through this car ride sitting in tight jeans that I have tucked into my warmest fake-fur-lined boots. I lost count, but I’m pretty sure I have about three layers on my top half. I know I put on a bra, which is another item that will get ripped off along with the jeans the second I get home. Over that, I have a long tank top to keep cold air from sneaking up my back. Then a thick, long-sleeved white shirt, and finally my rainbow-colored Mexican poncho hoodie. To top it all off, I wore my black feather earrings. They’ve sort of become my calling card, and I have a pair in every color.

Since the moment they picked me up, the girls have been giving me crap for looking like a Rastafarian Eskimo. Whatever, those bitches are going to freeze and I’m going to be nice and toasty. End of October in Minnesota is no joke. I’d rather be warm than sorry. I did forget my mittens at home, but I’ll just shove my hands in my hoodie pocket to keep them warm. Or better yet, I’ll find a sexy man to warm me up.

“You’re here because you love me, and you want to support me. And you know damn well that I have no idea where we are going. Ask Jackson,” Izzy replies.

Jackson turns up the music to drown out our voices. Katelyn’s shoulders shake in laughter.

“Don’t play all innocent!” I shout over the music. “Kitten, you traitor, I know Jackson told you!”

Honestly, I’m surprised that Izzy invited me to come along to this. Her new slice of man-meat invited/asked/begged her to come out tonight for some sort of birthday celebration. But with Katelyn and Jackson already here I have a feeling I’m going to be third wheeling all night.

But I guess I’m here as a buffer between Izzy and Zach. She’s been fighting the attraction like crazy. Or, well... she has been since the week after their one night stand, when she found out he’s the newest player for the Minnesota Sleet, our local professional hockey team. I don’t understand why she won’t just go for it. He’s hot as fuck, he’s into her, and - with a name like "Zachary Hunt" - you want to swoon.

Yeah, okay, so Izzy’s dad also happens to be the head coach for the team, but you can’t fix that. Of course I know why she’s resisting. The night she first met Katelyn and Steph, Jackson’s sister, they had a big long talk full of rational reasons as to why she shouldn’t date hockey players. Who would’ve known that conversation would backfire so spectacularly?

Anyways, I’ve made it clear that I think she should give Zach a chance. She won’t listen, but bringing me here tonight is opening Pandora’s Box. Because if I get a moment alone with him, you bet your ass I’m going to give him some insider information. It’s what any good friend would do.

Snapping out of it, I look out the window into the darkness. Seriously, where are we going? I feel like we’ve been driving into the country forever.

That’s when I see it. The sign for Visceral Village.

I don’t even try to play it cool. “Oh my gods, yes!” I laugh, while bouncing in my seat and clapping my hands.

Can’t say I’m surprised when Izzy tries to put up a fight about going. Jackson obviously knew the plan, so no amount of complaining on her part will get him to turn around. Honestly, this place was a brilliant move on Zach’s part. Izzy is going to spend the entire night clinging to his side. I’ll make sure of it.