Page 30 of Chasing the Puck

There’s that stupid tingle again.

“How did you get my number anyway?” The question suddenly occurs to me, and asking it is a great excuse to get us off the unfortunate track this conversation is currently on.

“Summer gave it to me,” he answers.

I gasp. “The little traitor …”

He chuckles, a smooth and rumbly sound. If it were anyone else’s chuckle, I’d probably reflect on how good it sounds, how its vibration is like a massage to my ears …

“Don’t blame her. I begged for it because I need to reschedule Monday’s tutoring session. We’re throwing a surprise birthday party for Kiran, one of my teammates.”

I roll my lips. “Are you sure you’re not putting it off because you won’t have the first draft of your essay done in time?”

“No way. I finished it already. And it’s by far the best essay I’ve ever written. I’m really proud of it. Seriously, you’ve been a lifesaver showing me how to outline and organize my thoughts and shit.”

It’s maybe not the most eloquent compliment I’ve ever received, but it is a compliment, and it sounds genuine. There’s a bright, happy feeling in my chest, and I even feel an involuntary smile tilting on my lips.

“Alright. We can reschedule. How’s Tuesday, same time?”

“Perfect. I’ll do an extra shot in your honor at Kiran’s party as a thank you.”

I laugh. “That’s really not necessary.”

There’s another pause on his end. “Hey, Lockley?”

“Yeah?”

“I just made you laugh.”

For some reason, that makes me laugh again. “Wow, aren’t you observant?”

“You didn’t even try to hide it. I think this is a milestone in our relationship.”

“See you Tuesday, Tuck,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“You sure will.” He disconnects the call.

Tuck is just too much. Too ridiculous. Too obnoxious.

Why did talking with him just put me in a better mood?

13

TUCK

This is our bye week. With a hockey-free weekend, the guys and I decided to take advantage of it by hitting up Starlite on Friday night, the hottest new club in Cedar Shade. Not that it has a ton of competition in the small college town.

It just opened last semester, taking over and renovating an old warehouse. It’s got a hip, upscale vibe, and it’s the kind of place that girls go all out for. This place is a sea of girls in tight dresses, wearing makeup that must’ve taken hours to apply. It’s like a Paris fashion show in here.

The rest of the guys on the team—other than Hudson, of course, who’s very happily spoken for—are taking advantage of it, mingling with gorgeous girls dressed to the nines.

That’s what I should be doing, too.

But it’s the same sad story for me. When I sweep my gaze over the room of dolled-up knockouts, not a single one of them stirs any desire in me.

I swear, I’m feeling so little below the belt in front of such beautiful women, that I’d worry I’ve got a medical condition—if not for the fact that just days ago, when I saw Olivia, my cock was hard as steel, throbbing in rhythm to my heartbeat when I was doing no more than sitting next to her in our tutoring room.

Suddenly, as I’m sipping on an outrageously overpriced cocktail and letting my gaze wander across the room, I feel a twitch of life below my waist.

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