Page 2 of Chase Lovett Wants Me

“Oh, it’s coming,” I lie again.

“I can have a look at it for you before you hand it in,” she offers.

“I still have a bit more work to do. And they have services here for that.” By a bit more work, I mean that I have ninety percent left. All I’ve completed so far is the opening paragraph. Every time I sit down to write it, my brain takes a trip down No Thank You Lane into Let’s Write Fanfic Instead Ville.

Essie stops to give me a disapproving look. “Please tell me you’ve started.”

“I’ve started.” One paragraph. “You know how I am. I’m good under pressure. I’ll get it done.” It’s not due until the end of the semester; I have loads of time to procrastinate.

“I’m here to help. Just let me know if you need a set of eyes or a brainstorming session.”

“Thanks, Ess. Where are you headed tonight?” I prop my chin on my fist as my sister changes into a slinky, gold tank top with spaghetti straps. She’s braless with Band-Aids over her nipples. I wish I had a speck of her confidence.

“Sahar Jordan, who played Lila onThe Way We Weren’t,is throwing a party. I couldn’t say no to the invite, because of course I want to see what her house looks like. Also, all the sexiest people in the city will be there, and I need to make more contacts again.”

“Sounds like a blast.” And the very last place I would ever want to be. “Are you happy to be back in Toronto?” Essie has been working as a makeup artist in Vancouver for the past two years. But she recently accepted a contract in Toronto. Rix isgetting married next summer, and Essie is the maid of honor and wants to be here for all the planning.

“Not excited about the winter, but happy to be close to you and Rix and Mom and Dad again.”

“I’m happy about that, too.”

“One of these weekends, you have to come out and meet all the Terror girls. They’re so much fun. We could go to the campus café, and I could introduce you to––”

“Sounds like a plan.” And a lot of social anxiety. But I’d do it to spend time with my sister. And if Rix is there, it’ll be less awkward.

“Okay, little sister. I have to run, but we’ll talk again later this week?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, are you going out tonight?” Essie asks this every time. The answer is always a lie.

“I’m hanging out with friends in the common room later.”

“Good. Great. I told you university would be good for you! Love you, Cam.” She makes a kissy face.

“Love you, too, Ess.”

She ends the call and I flop back in my computer chair.

My stomach grumbles obnoxiously. I haven’t eaten since lunch. It’s six fifty-seven. Which means I’ve missed dinner in the good cafeteria and all I can order is a crappy burger or a sub. Neither is appealing. But the common room has a kettle so I can make ramen.

Do I have a kettle in my room? Of course. And a microwave and a mini fridge.

But if I go to the common room, I’ll likely see Chase. And Brody, which would make my sister happy. They’re practically glued to each other’s sides. Unless there’s a girl hanging off Chase, which is ninety percent of the time. But I could still see Chase. Watch the game (him) for a few minutes while I make ramen. If I’m lucky, there will be a line and I’ll have to hang out for twenty minutes or so. It’s happened before.

Decision made, I spend the next twenty minutes changing into every outfit I own and decide my jeans and black hoodie with a Middle-Earth icon on the back is the best I can do. I attempt cat eyes via my sister’s video tutorial, but I fail three times and give up. I go with two swipes of mascara and some gloss, shove my feet into my shoes, forget my ramen and have to go back to my room, then head to the common room.

As predicted, there’s a line at the kettle, three deep. This is perfect. Especially since Chase and all his hockey buddies are exactly where I expected them to be: sitting on the couch in front of the TV watching the Terror game.

The girls who always look through me are perched on the arms of the couch, one next to Chase, the other next to Gage, one of Chase and Brody’s other teammates. Brody is sitting on the floor in a gaming chair.

I join the line for the kettle.

And while I wait, I observe.

Chase is wearing faded denim and a Terror T-shirt. His dark hair is damp, like he’s fresh from the shower. I bet he smells incredible. His thickly muscled bicep flexes as he high-fives Brody when 44, Brody’s brother, scores a goal.

Brody wears jeans, black boots, and a black hoodie with the phrase “I’d rather be on the ice” in tiny letters across his heart. Gage is dressed in red workout gear. There is a decent chance he came here directly from the gym and smells like sweat and sneakers. It’s fairly common, and his friends often razz him about it.

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