Page 12 of Faking It with the Forward

His jaw tenses and I think he’s about to give it up, when he says, “I’ll get Reid to ask Nadia out on a date. For real.”

The bargain comes in a rush, and I don’t have time to agree before he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and traces his fingers along my jaw. A rush of goosebumps spreads down my arms, and he lasers the full effect of his charm on me in one mega-dose.

“Fine,” I hear myself say over the rush of blood thrumming in my veins. As if I have a choice.

“Hey!” Shanna’s voice carries over the music and noise of the coffee shop. “I thought that was you.”

Yes, because there are so many six-foot-four, drop-dead handsome, ex-boyfriend hockey players roaming around campus. This bitch.

“Shan,” he says, the picture of ease, sliding his arm over my shoulder. “Didn’t see you come in.”

I guess everyone is lying today.

“Obviously not.” Her eyes dart to me—to us—and I see the question in them. Trust me, Shan, I have questions too. She thrusts out her hand. “Hi, I’m Shanna.”

“Oh,” I step forward to take her hand, or try to, but Reese’s muscular arm keeps me locked in at his side. I offer a tight smile instead. “I’m Twyler.”

“Twyler… that’s an interesting name.”

It’s a crazy name. Some family lore about the summer my grandmother, Twyla, lived in Tyler, Texas and met my grandfather and subsequently fell in love.

Her gaze shifts over and up to the face of the man next to me. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” he says a little too casually. “The season’s looking good. Coach named me captain…”

“I heard.” She gives him a grin. “So proud of you.” Again, she looks to me, or at me, my ponytail and hoodie. “And you two…”

“Twy’s the intern for the sports trainers,” is all he says by way of explanation.

“Ah, the sports trainers. Right.” There’s a glint in her eye. Something… troublesome. “Well, you make a cute couple. Hope everything goes great with the season. Good luck, Reese, you deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he says, followed by a beat of silence between the three of us. “So, we should go. Twy has class.”

“Well, it was good seeing you.” She smiles at me. “And meeting you.”

“Same,” I say, allowing Reese to lead us out the door. Once we’re outside and clear of the coffee shop entrance, I waste no time disentangling myself.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, running his hands through his hair. “I just panicked.”

“You panicked by assaulting my mouth!” Am I yelling? I can’t tell over the blood pounding in my ears.

He tilts his head and his lips quirk. “That seems extreme.”

“Whatever, Cain. Explain yourself.”

He stiffens and shrugs. “She gets under my skin.”

“So you decided to shove your tongue down my throat to make her ‘jealous.’” The finger quotes are my emphasis, because Jesus, that’s the most absurd plan ever. “If you want her back just go get her.”

“Getting her back is the last thing I want.” His expression turns hard. “I broke up with her.”

I stop short. No one knows what happened between Shanna and Reese. Their breakup was quiet and without drama. Even being privy to locker room chatter, this is the first I’ve heard that he’s the one that initiated it.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I ask, although the image of an endless line of puck bunnies seems like a good enough reason.

“It’s complicated,” he says easily, but his hand is tugging at his hair again. “I just don’t want to give her any openings.”

I don’t ask what that means, and I also don’t miss the way he’s looking at me. Weird. He’s looking at me weird.

---