Page 33 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

Want pulsed through me like a hungry predator that needed to feed. I curled my fist tight, trying to force it away through sheer strength of will.She needs support, not another guy feeling her up on the dance floor.

Me:Go make some guys drool before you overthink it. I want photographic proof

Jealousy burned through my gut as I hit send, but at least I knew I’d made the right decision. If the urge to punch someone didn’t remain, I might’ve marked it as a win.

When I was sure the conversation was over, I turned to find the blonde. She was now leaning against one of the frat boys. Apparently she loved them, too.

I shook my head. Lyla really was the ultimate cock blocker. I spotted a few guys from the team and headed over to say hi. We spent several minutes talking strategy for our final games of the regular season. Without hockey, classes would feel like wading through waist-deep mud, my motivation left behind on the rink. Which was why I’d do whatever it took to extend our season as long as possible, first by crushing the competition at regionals, and then making it to the Frozen Four.

Playing in the college hockey semifinals had always been one of my ultimate goals, and if we made it that far, I’d only have to endure one long month of nothing but studying to keep me occupied. Of course, summer would be even worse. I’d already promised Tessa I’d go through the house and deal with the estate things she couldn’t.

Then my meetings with the D&T execs couldn’t be pushed off any longer, and I could only imagine how mind numbing they’d be.I’ll do it for Dad, though—that’ll help get me through.

At least I’d get to spend more time with Megan. Hopefully we could do more fun hanging out and less lectures about screwing up her future before it even starts.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

A slightly blurry, purple-tinted picture came up. Lyla and Whitney were dancing on the bar, arms draped around each other. The dimple in Lyla’s cheek was out in full force—she looked like she was having fun. Judging from the raised arms and back of heads crowding the bar she and Whitney were dancing on, there were also plenty of entertained men.

Me:You can def cross off sexy dancing on the bar

Lyla::P Headed home. See you tomorrow.

I was about to type the required smiley face back when another text came up.

Lyla:Hey, what’s your fave food?

Me:Sushi. Why?

Lyla:Just curious. You know, I’ve never had sushi. Not sure I could eat raw fish.

Me:Before the game. You, me, raw fish

Lyla:I don’t know…

Me:You’ll like it

Lyla:Ok. It’ll be an adventure, anyway. Night :)

Lyla, all of two seconds later:I better get a goodnight smiley face.

Jeez, woman, give me a minute.Instead of the smiley face, though, I hit the camera button to choose the photo I’d saved earlier. I told myself it was too sappy, but I’d saved it, sure she’d approve. Originally I’d planned on showing it to her tomorrow.

Me:I’ll do you one better. Saw this in my FB feed and thought of you

I hit send, and off went the message, along with the black and white cat staring in the mirror, a determined look on its whiskered face. Across the picture it saidcarl, you’re going to get out there and you’re going to catch that red dot.

I just sent a cat picture to a girl. I’ve officially lost my Man Card.

Lyla::-) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I grinned like an idiot all the way to my car. Even worse, when I got inside, I pulled up the picture of her dancing on the bar so I could stare at it one more time.

…

It was sorta pathetic how excited I was for the hockey game with Lyla, but as I drove down the familiar streets to pick her up, I let myself enjoy my happy buzz. I couldn’t wait to see how she liked sushi and what she thought about NHL-level hockey.

Earlier in the week it’d snowed, but it’d been unusually warm today, and even the piles of snow that rarely melted were mere specks of white. I pulled into the parking lot of Lyla’s complex and climbed the stairs to her apartment.

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