Page 14 of Face Me Off

“You okay there, Grimes?” His all-too-amused grin makes me think he’s annoying me on purpose.

“Just peachy.” I grit my teeth and force my attention to the professor. This is going to be a long-ass class.

“You’ll need to form a study group to help get through the quizzes and tests. This isn’t a suggestion,” the professor says.

Great.

My gaze meets Ryan’s. His jaw muscles flex as he clenches and unclenches them. I’m hit with an image of him on the ice, fierce and determined. He’s a fierce competitor, and despite not catching a game since high school, I recognize that look.

And that thought makes butterflies explode inside for some reason that I can’t yet comprehend.

The second the professor dismisses us, I’m on my feet faster than my parent’s dismissal of my artwork. The strap on my backpack catches on the edge of the desk, and I stumble forward. Smooth move, Grimes. Real graceful.

“Don’t be in such a hurry over my account.” Amusement laces Ryan’s voice. That, coupled with my embarrassment, strikes a chord.

“You are the most arrogant person on the planet.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “You seriously believe that? Have you forgotten who I room with?”

Touché! Blake Morton, captain of the hockey team, has more confidence than anyone I’ve met. But I won’t let him know that. “I stand by my words.”

He shrugs. “I would’ve thought I earned some of that arrogance after this summer.”

I bite down hard on my lip while the traitorous part of me basks in the memory. “Don’t bring that night up.Ever.”

“Why? Too much excitement for you? Afraid you’ll get hot and bothered?” Mirth dances in his eyes as he hikes his bag on his shoulder. I try not to react when the sleeves of his T-shirt push up to reveal those strong biceps.

“You are the worst.” I push through the door, but Ryan’s chuckle follows me down the hallway.

“I’m only joking.”

“Whatever.” I barely make it two steps before a strong hand gently grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My pulse quickens.

“Hold up, Grimes,” he says. “You’re not getting away that easy.”

I swallow hard, hyper-aware of his touch on my skin. “Ryan, we have nothing to say to each other. Besides, we probably shouldn’t be seen together.”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t remove his fingers. “It seems like I pissed the professor off already.”

“Yeah, well, show up on time, and you won’t have any problems.”

“I tried. Had a conditioning workout, and the facility’s clear across campus.”

It is a trek, but I won’t let him off that easy. I pull my arm out from his touch, but there’s still a charge between us. “You’re fast on the ice. Apply that to the grounds, and maybe you’ll make it on time.”

“Hardy, har, har.” He shakes his head. Running his hand through his hair, he looks back toward the direction of the classroom. “I was thinking, but you’ll probably think it’s a bad idea.”

“Stick with that thought. I’m sure you’re right.”

He stares at me for a moment, and I wonder if I pushed too far. But I need to protect myself. I already fell into bed with him, possibly betrayed my best friend, and feel like the biggest loser ever, especially since I don’t have any regrets. But dissecting that feeling is for a different day.

“What if we compare notes. Whitman already said we need to partner up, and I really need to get a good grade. I don’t want my GPA to suffer because Professor Dickhead has it out for hockey players.”

“Absolutely not.” But his question causes me to pause. In high school, he only wanted to play professional hockey. He’d mimic holding the Stanley Cup whenever he talked about the future. Now, he’s all about becoming a physical therapist, which I attribute to his dad’s accident, but I don’t fully understand the reasoning. I get wanting to make a difference, but at the expense of letting go of your dreams?

Hypocrite much?

I’m doing the same thing—sacrificing what I want for the sake of my parents. Guilt does that.

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