Page 13 of Puck You Not

When we’d had Shakespeare 201 together, I’d certainly heard plenty of ill-suppressed sighs whenever Parrish had entered the room—usually a few minutes late since it was an eight a.m.class, and apparently, he worked out first thing in the morning, even during the off-season.He’d always come in fresh from the shower, his hair slightly damp.

My teeth sank into my bottom lip while I imagined running my fingers into his thick light brown hair.It looked coarse, yet I would bet it would still be like soft, silky ropes under my touch.My breath caught when I imagined those whiskey-brown eyes peering down at me, making my heart race while my palms flattened over his powerful pecs—

And…this was why I wrote in my spare time and why Parrish starred as the dragon warrior in my novel, even though I hadn’t meant to write him onto the pages.My brain often galloped off into flights of fancy before I realized it.That I’d inserted myself into this particular fantasy should concern me, yet I had to admit, my thoughts spiraled that way more than they should.

Daydreams were the only place where Parrish would adore me while I stood in the embrace of his steely arms.Hockey gods didn’t notice hot-mess Plain Janes.

Notthat I was all down on myself.I was fine with who I was.I just happened to be a realist.Ordinary.And clumsy.And awkward.I wasn’t remotely close to being the glamorous perfection of the puck bunnies who panted after the men on the Loggerhead’s hockey team; that was all.

Take today for example.I’d been hurrying across the quiet library when I’d noticed a loose thread on my cardigan sweater.My attention caught up in the snag, I’d tripped over my own feet, stumbled then careened into the steel book truck, full of books to be reshelved.It had crashed onto the tiled floor, books going everywhere and me falling on top of it, while students stared and a couple documented my folly with their phones.

Clumsy.Awkward.Hot, hot,hotmess.

“You’re staring off into space again, Babes.”

The bench where I sat, enjoying the warm March afternoon, vibrated from a heavy weight dropping down beside me.

“Hey, Nash.”I tipped my head to look over at Nash Higgins, the guy who was arguably my best friend here at Rustin University.Probably my best friend ever.He and I had similar backgrounds.We were both on our own with no family support.He had no one back home, as far as I knew.I only had my older brother and sister, who were pretty glad I was away at college and forever out of their hair.

“You okay?”he asked.

“You heard?”It was a big campus.I’d hoped that word of my latest mishap wouldn’t go past the small late-morning crowd in the library.

“Peters was there doing research,” he said, naming one of the guys from his computer science lab.“So…you okay?He said it was…”

“A train wreck?”I offered, heat creeping up my neck.“My bruises have bruises, but my pride sustained the worst damage.”

“I’m sorry, Babes.”

“I’ll live.Only about a month left ‘til graduation, right?”

“Right…” He winced.“Still coming over to study this evening?”

“Yeah, I’ll bring pizza.Will Porter be there?Should I plan on him?”

“Nah.He’ll probably be off doing something with the guys from the hockey team.The season might be wrapping up soon, but they’re all up in each other’s business all the time.Plus they have that Frozen Four thing coming up.”

“Up in each other’s business, huh?”I teased, trying to ignore my immediate inclination to quiz Porter about his teammate, Parrish.He was sure to know details I couldn’t get from the school website or the Rustin News.

“Not like that, you perv.Porter might be gay, but he doesn’t dip with his team.”

“No?”

“Shut up.”Nash shoved me lightly, but not hard enough to knock me off the bench.I laughed.I knew he had a thing for Porter, but they weren’t together.Yet.As far as I knew, I was the only one in the know about Nash’s crush on his roommate.Porter certainly had no clue.

Nash and I both had our secrets, and both, apparently, had a thing for hockey players, it would seem.

“I’ll come over around seven.With pizza and statistics.”I groaned out the last word.Nash was a computer science guy, so numbers were his jam.The class was cake for him.Me?I was an English major, and I wanted to murder my adviser foradvisingme to take the math class.If not for Nash, I would have dropped it within a week.Well, if not for Nash but also because I needed the math credits toward my graduation requirements.

Thankfully, my bestie since Freshman orientation was helping me through that mess.

“So why were you staring into space?Were you fabricating more fantasies about your wrong email guy?”

I rolled my lips together, grimaced, then shrugged.“Maybe.Or maybe, I was writing.In my head.Writer’s do that, you know?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, sounding skeptical.At least, I hadn’t told him that I knew my pen pal’s identity.Especially because Nash probably knew the hockey team’s captain since he and Porter had been roommates for a couple years.With that kind of info in his back pocket, Nash would try to orchestrate a hookup for me and Parrish.

Yeah, Isowasn’t giving him details.

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