Page 62 of Shutout
“Frombestfriend to girlfriend, to be more accurate,” I say just to be a little shit. “Which normally might be hard, but she just started giving me the time of day again.”
“I don’t know, man.” Jamie pauses to bite into his sandwich. “The whole tale about how she bypassed Coach Green to see you after the penalty already spread like fire through the team. We all thought it was either a very enthusiastic puck bunny, or your girlfriend.”
“Don’t panic,” Dane says. “That conversation was like ten minutes long tops. Everyone’s still at O’Malley’s either trying to get plastered, or laid, or both.”
“Good to know the team’s worried about me.”
“Please, we know you’re built like a damn ox. We thought the puck bunny would give you all the comfort you needed.”
“And that’s why you said that flaming piece of garbage to Liv when you saw us, I see.” I lift a hand toward him, opening it and closing it.
Dane looks at it warily. “What does that mean?”
My response is, “You either come here so I can punch you in the throat, or you give me the rest of your food. Choose.”
He pushes his plate over to me. Wise man. “The point is,” Dane continues saying as he watches me eat his other sandwich. “I don’t think you need to work very hard to get with her. Just don’t treat her like you used to, or like she’s any of us, and you’re golden.”
Jamie nods. “Yeah, man. Open a few doors for her. Carry her stuff. Be nice or something. Girls like that.”
I snort and talk while chewing. “I don’t treat her like I treat you. I…” But my voice trails off.
A massive cringe shrinks me to half my size. I’ve been known to put Liv in headlocks, which isn’t something I’ve ever done to a girlfriend. And Jamie’s right, the physical contactwith a girlfriend is so different. Softer. Lingering. Hotter. Much more intentional.
“That’s right.” Dane smirks as he watches the realization slam me like a puck to the face. “Treat her like a girlfriend and she’ll want to become one.”
See? I really am a man of action—and there are plenty of actions I can take with this knowledge. Starting Monday in Spanish.
CHAPTER 22
OLIVIA
“Ithink if we say it like that, it sounds too colloquial. Right, Liv?” Brooke explains from so close, it almost feels like he’s speaking over my shoulder. I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on the screen of my laptop on the table.
Ugh. Why is he turning the attention on me?
I try to scoot to the edge of my seat but it doesn’t matter, he still has his left arm on the back of my chair. His thigh’s still glued to mine. And none of this is going unnoticed to Alyssa and Emily, who have been giving me funny eyes ever since we sat down at this table at Thundercloud, the school’s cafe.
I deeply regret choosing this venue over the library. We’d have had so much more space there. More importantly, I wouldn’t be struggling so hard to contain how much he’s affecting me. Why does he have to smell so good? I know he wears some fancy cologne and aftershave, but the end result of them on his clean skin is too much for anyone whose orientation is hot hockey players. It almost makes me miss the stink of his pads because at least that keeps me level headed—if not horrified. And like, I’m legit angry every time the smell ofcoffee or freshly baked muffins compete for my nose’s attention.
But my biggest complaint is that he’s so damn warm. I wish I could just lean into his side and snuggle like we did on his bed. Especially now that I know how, even though he’s hard like granite all over, he can still mold himself around me in a way that feels so soft. Safe. Comfortable. If only for the little issue where he makes my hormones rage like magma in an active volcano.
Alyssa lifts her eyebrows in an indiscreet way. “Olivia?”
I clear my throat so loud that the people in the next table look at me. Face warming up, I redirect my attention back to the assignment. “I think we can continue using tú instead of usted. It’s supposed to be a conversation among friends, you know?”
“Right,friends.” Alyssa nods like a bobble head, slowly turning to her friend who is barely containing laughter.
“Anyway, let’s make a pause here.” I shut down my laptop and push my chair back with more force than necessary. It forces Brooke to drop his arm. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving.”
“Oh, me too,” Brooke agrees, and the two perverts across the table are now on a serious struggle to hold back their laughter.
I shake my fist at them while Brooklyn rises from his chair, his back slightly turned to us.
“I’ll get in line,” he says to us. “Take your time, ladies.”
“Sure, thanks.” Alyssa smiles sweetly at him, but when he’s out of earshot she whispers, “Okay now you have to admit that something’s definitely going on between you guys.”
“Nothing is going on, and if you keep making faces at me I will do you bodily harm.”
