Page 62 of The Alternate Captain
“Roll back a second. What the hell happened with Darren and Lydia?” he says, gripping the zip of my dress and pulling it up.
“He told me she cheated on him.”
Tom can’t contain his laughter. “In this instance, karma is a queen, not a bitch.” I turn to face him and blink. “You look hot,” Tom says, lounging back onto my bed.
I finish my make-up, and take another large gulp of my drink.
“Do you think it’s a bit much?” I ask, twirling on the spot.
“I think it’s perfect. It’s the right amount of slutty without being overly slutty—if that makes sense.”
“I’m changing,” I say, moving towards my wardrobe.
“No. Don’t,” Tom says, hopping up from the bed. “Green is definitely your colour. And your boobs look huge—did you get a new bra?”
I roll my eyes at him, then grab a jacket.
The sound of a car pulling up outside has Tom moving to the window to peer out. “Oh, my God. He’s here.”
I down the last of my drink and check myself in the mirror for a final time, wondering if I did the right thing by curling my hair a little. Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.
“I’ll get it,” Tom says, almost falling over himself to answer the front door that Johnny hasn’t even got to yet.
I grab my bag, stuffing my phone and bank card inside, then follow his path to the front door.
Tom swings the front door open before I get there, and Johnny stands on our doorstep, wearing a suit that makes my knees buckle slightly; he’s been causing that effect a lot lately. I always thought I was immune to hockey players in fancy suits,but Johnny is, apparently, an exception to the rule. And by the sound of Tom’s breathing, he thinks so, too.
“Your ride is here,” Johnny says.
“Oh, she loves a ride.” Tom grins.
I throw my hand out to smack Tom’s arm. “Ignore him. He doesn’t get out much,” I say to Johnny. “Let’s go.”
But, of course, Johnny extends his arm out to Tom and introduces himself. “Johnny Koenig.”
“I know,” Tom says, practically drooling. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Oh, great. Do you come to many games?” Johnny asks.
“Oh, I don’t. I’m not really a hockey fan.”
Johnny’s eyebrows furrow. “Oh?”
“I’m ayoufan, Johnny.” His voice is sultry, like he’s waiting to pounce on him, so I have no choice but to hurry along and get the hell out of there.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say. “Don’t wait up, Tom. Bye.”
I nudge Johnny away from our door as I shut it behind me.
“I’m sorry about him. He’s a strange boy.”
“It’s always nice to meet a fan,” Johnny says, opening the passenger door for me as if he’s done it a million times. He leans in and pushes my hair away from my ear, his fingers gently brushing my neck, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. “You’re beautiful, by the way.”
What the hell? I slip into the passenger seat and try to compose myself. It’s his choice of words that got me. ‘You’re beautiful,’ not ‘you look beautiful,’ or ‘your dress is beautiful.’
I feel so awkward about taking a compliment. I ignore it then he climbs into the driver’s side. Instead, I ask him how he’s getting on with his thesis and I listen to him talk, dragging it out all the way to the restaurant; the restaurant which I have no idea how I’m going to pay for and eat regularly all week, but I guess that’s something for tomorrow Kelly to worry about.
Johnny finds a parking spot and jumps out to pay at the parking meter, just as I get a text from Charlotte, telling me they’re waiting for us inside. Which means it’s time to act again.
