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see—”
    “I know.” He’s still smiling at me, but not in a teasing way. It’s almost self-conscious, like he’s trying to be calm and collected, but he just can’t help that smile. Which, of course, makes it that much more adorable and—
    “So, see you around?” he asks.
    “Definitely. I mean, yes. Okay. Um, bye.” I turn away before any more stupid comes out of me.
    Josh warms up his car as I jog up to the main road, skates bouncing lightly against my back. The sound reminds me of Lola on that first night, eyes dark and serious as she whacked her gloves against her hip, again and again and again.
    You gotta want it, kiddo. Really want it.
    I turn back toward the car. It’s close behind me now, tires crunching over the snow. Josh pulls up next to me and lowers the window.
    “Watch your step, Avery,” he says, easing onto the road. “Slippery out there.”
    I raise my eyebrows and give him a half smile. “That’s good advice, Blackthorn.”
    “Winter in Watonka, right?” He waves and glides down the slick street, break lights flashing at the stop sign. I walk backward in the opposite direction and watch until his taillights disappear around the corner, my boots slipping in the slush only once, all the way back to Hurley’s.

Chapter Three

     

No One Wants to Kiss a Girl Who Smells Like Bacon, So I Might as Well Get Fat Cupcakes
     
Double-chocolate cupcakes served warm in a sugar-butter reduction; piped with icing braids of peanut butter, cream cheese, and fudge; and sprinkled with chocolate chips
     
    Saturday breakfast is in full swing when I get back, bacon popping on Trick’s grill like cholesterol was just recategorized as an essential nutrient by the food pyramid people. If I don’t already smell, T minus ten minutes to maximum porkaliciousness.
    “There’s my girl,” Trick says as I throw my stuff into the staff closet and change into my kitchen sneakers. “Thought you went out lookin’ for a new man.”
    “Nah. You know you’re the only man in my life.” I laugh, but it’s basically true, and not in a dirty-old-man way, either.
    Trick smiles from beneath his Buffalo Sabres cap, dark brown skin crinkling around his eyes. “Hey, take that box in the office for your brother tonight. I found a bunch of computerparts for his school thing—he left before I could tell him.”
    “It’s not for school.” I wash my hands and dig out my frosting gear. “He’s building a robot playmate. Says he—”
    “Finally!” Dani pushes through the kitchen doors and sticks an order ticket into the strip over the grill. The top of her retro lavender Hurley Girl dress is splattered with the morning’s sludge. “You’re never that long on break. Where’ve you been?”
    “Nowhere.” I tie a semi-clean apron around my waist and look at Trick. His back is turned for the moment, but his ears have multidirectional sonar capability and his mouth is even bigger than his heart.
    “All right,” she says, taking the hint. “Get started on those cupcakes while I do a flyby on my tables. Smoke break in fifteen?”
    I nod. We don’t smoke, but we break. It’s all very complicated.
    Fifteen minutes later we’re out in the trash alcove otherwise known as the smoking lounge, warming our hands in the heat leaking through the propped-open back door.
    She stamps her feet to chase away the ice-blue air. “Spill it,” she says. “Quick. My equatorial ass can’t handle this cold.”
    “I ran into Josh Blackthorn from school. We sort of …” Pow! I slam my palms together like Josh did earlier, imitating our crash.
    “Hold up—you did it ? With the hockey captain? On your break ? What the—”
    “No! We crashed on the ice at Fillmore. I was skating. Fullyclothed. Besides, I totally reek.” I pull my red-blond ponytail across my face for a whiff. “No one wants to do it with a chick who smells like bacon.”
    Her brow creases. “Everybody loves bacon.”
    “Not as a signature scent.”
    “True,