Page 26 of Chasing the Puck

I shake my head, a grave expression on my face. “There’s nothing stupid about being hangry over a very specific snack craving. This is a deadly serious situation, Lockley. We have to get you those Pretzel M&M’s.” With that, I’m striding towards the door, like I’m The Terminator and nothing in the world can keep me from carrying out my mission.

“We can’t waste a tutoring session traipsing around town looking for Pretzel M&M’s,” Olivia objects. “Your next essay is due next week, and we need to review your outline.” She crooks an eyebrow at me. “You did make the outline, right?”

“Of course I did,” I answer. “And you’ll be very impressed with it. Trust me, I’m not going to have an issue finishing this essay. Your advice from Monday helped a ton. We’re already five minutes early, so we have fifty minutes. We’ll take my car, it’s in the parking lot right next to the building. We’ll be back with time to spare.”

Olivia looks to the side, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. I can tell I’m tempting her.

I really like the idea of tempting Olivia Lockley, even when it’s over something as silly as this.

“Fine,” she folds, her hangry-ness winning out.

I pump my fist in triumph. “Let’s go.”

About a minute later, I’m in the driver’s seat of my Mercedes with Olivia Lockley right next to me in the passenger seat. I’ve already accepted I’m down bad for this girl, but it’s almost a little concerning just how good something as simple as having her in my car feels.

Fuck, imagine how good it would feel to really have her in this car—in the back seat …

I pump the breaks on that thought.

We’re on a mission: satisfying Olivia’s hangry-ness. I’ll let myself indulge in thoughts of backseat shenanigans with Olivia later tonight.

“Let’s try the gas station on the other side of town,” I suggest as I start the engine. “They’re always filled to the brim with snacks.”

“Good idea,” Olivia answers as she snaps on her seatbelt. Then she turns to me with a worried expression on her face. “Please don’t tell anyone I said good idea to you. Especially not Summer. I’ll never live it down.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “We’re keeping secrets from our friends now? That’s kinda hot.”

She rolls her eyes and arcs her head away from me. “You’re ridiculous.”

That’s the second time today she’s called me ridiculous. Is it weird that I like it?

“Mhm.” Before pulling out of my parking space, I sync my phone with the radio. “Alright, you get to pick the first Taylor Swift song. What’s your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite,” she answers.

I turn my head to her, drilling her with a knowing glare. “Bullshit. Everyone has a favorite Taylor Swift song.”

She shrugs. “Not me.”

I know she’s full of shit. So, I just keep looking at her. I can tell that my gaze is slowly burning through her defenses. “I can’t start driving before I queue up the first Taylor Swift song of the ride, and it has to be your favorite. Because I know you have one.”

Her cheeks color lightly with embarrassment, which makes my lips tilt upward. Olivia is so guarded, to the point where she holds back even from something like sharing a favorite song.

She’s just the type who likes to keep things close to her chest. Which is funny, because she’s able to pour out the most emotional performances on stage, with a packed audience’s attention riveted to her.

“Alright,” she admits defeat after a couple beats of my gaze burning on her expectantly. “Mr. Perfectly Fine.”

I hoot. “Knew you had a favorite T. Swift song.” I turn on the song and turn up the volume, belting out the lyrics as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.

We get through Mr. Perfectly Fine and one more song before pulling into the gas station parking lot.

“Alright,” I begin as I roll to a stop, using the same voice I do when I’m drawing up hockey plays with my team. “We have to be efficient. When we get in there, you check out the snacks they have displayed by the register. I’ll check the candy aisle.”

This time she can’t hide a smile and a tiny laugh that bubbles from her curled lips. The sound makes my chest pang. I could very quickly grow addicted to hearing Olivia Lockley’s laugh.

“Yes, sir,” she says. Her words are sarcastic, but her calling me sir … fuck, it does something to me. I clamp down on my desire so that I’m not walking through this gas station with a tent pitched in my pants.

We follow the game plan when we’re inside. She heads towards the registers while I make a beeline to the candy aisle. And when I get there … I spot them.

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