Page 74 of Trick Shot
But I trust Claire.
And if I look even half as good as she tells me I do, then maybe I should stop worrying that there’s a layer offluff over my abs and that my shoulders are as wide as some doorways.
Besides, the idea of a few pics of us in bed together is pretty hot.
“Forget I asked,” she says, mistaking my silence. “And be mad at yourself because you look so damn good in my sheets.”
“Yes.”
“I should probably—wait, what?”
I smooth my hand over her hair. “Yes, I want you to take some pictures of us like this.”
Her smile is radiant as she lifts the phone and adjusts the angle. I’m wondering if I should do anything different or specific but fuck it. I turn my head and kiss her temple. Then I look into her eyes because I want to see if even half of what I’m feeling is reflecting back at me.
When I capture her blue eyes with my brown ones, I’m blown the fuck away. I’m not alone in the way I feel.
And I think it’s time to be honest about that.
She sets the camera down and curls into me, so I bring the blanket up to cover her shoulders.
“You know how we’ve kept up the pretense of this relationship because it would have looked strange if you dumped my ass right after the issue with your car was solved?”
“And so we could keep doing this,” she says, motioning between us.
I nod. “Those aren’t the only reasons I think we should keep doing this.”
“What’s the other reason?” she asks, her expression neutral.
“Because I want to be your boyfriend,” I tell her honestly. “Because this fake thing between us is the bestI’ve ever had, and it doesn’t feel like we’re putting on a show. At least, not to me.”
Her eyes go wide as she shakes her head. “Not to me either. Not for a long time. It’s crazy because we used to be enemies but now you’re the best part of my day. It was so easy to pretend to be your girlfriend, Pete, because I like you so much and I?—”
I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. “Hold up. What did you just say?”
Claire’s brow arches with suspicion. “That I like you, too, and?—”
“You admitted it. Twice,” he says. “Those are the three little words I’ve been fucking waiting to hear. You. Like. Me.”
My beautiful girlfriend shoots me a look of bewilderment. “Of course I do. What’s not to like?”
“Wait, say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.” I’ve got my hand cupped around my ear and I’m standing on a metal bench in the locker room of the FirstCo Arena.
When I look out at my teammates, their smiles are broad as they shout, “This is our year!”
It’s what we’ve been saying since the start of the season when we need to get pumped up and since we’re heading out to play our rivals to see who will advance to the Frozen Four, we need all the energy we can get. We each won our games by a score of five-to-one two nights ago but today isn’t going to be easy for either of us. First, there’s a little friction between our teams, to put it mildly. Not only is Woodcock our biggest competition, they also hate us because we have their goalie. Ok, that sounds bad and it’s not the whole story, but they’re basically pissed becausewhen their Coach cut JT Norris from the roster before his freshman year had even begun, Coach Baylor snagged him. It was all fair, unless you count the fact that it was bullshit JT even got nixed in the first place.
But he’s a hell of a goalie and they’re all pretty butthurt that he’s defending our net instead of theirs. Their dumbass decision, their loss. And if the rumors are true, JT could get called up to play for Seattle before they start their playoff run.
I hop down from the bench to find my best friend waiting for me. He’s not dressed in his gear, and it still throws me off a little. He’s wearing a suit tonight, looking more like one of the coaches than a player on the Injured Reserve, but that’s fitting, too.
“You’re a hell of a captain, Pete,” he says, his words sincere. Van and I don’t often get mushy with each other. In fact, I had to hand him his ass a couple months ago before he pushed Josie so far away that there’d be no coming back.
“Thanks,” I tell him, though I’m still a little pissed at the universe on his behalf. And that’s another reason we hate Woodcock. One of their D-men, Corey Bradford, is the reason Van will never play pro hockey, even though he was getting looks from so many teams. His career was over before it started thanks to Bradford’s nasty, illegal hit.
It’s not that we’re out for vengeance, not exactly. We’re not here to ruin anybody’s career, but we are here to make sure their season ends tonight. What that asshole took from Van is unforgivable and we’ll all be damned if they beat us and take our spot at the chance for the national title.
I clap Van’s back as he squeezes my shoulder. We don’t need to exchange words. We’ve got the kind of friendship where you can have a whole conversation in total silence.
