Page 61 of Overtime
The boy responds with “yes, sir?”
“You better make sure my sister gets to the hospital alive, because I don’t give a shit if your father’s rich. I will get you.”
“Um, yes, sir.”
I tap the screen to end the call. As I drive away from my spot, my insides turn icier and icier.
CHAPTER 18
MADDIE
“Wow, that was intense.” Wyatt basically has to shout to be heard over the din from the throng of people vacating the arena.
I’m shaky as I follow. I’ve already seen enough clips of hockey games to know sometimes they get violent and the audience revels in it. Like tonight, for example. When Aran socked the Falcon player, the whole place almost went down. Meanwhile, I sat ramrod straight.
I wonder if he gets into fights a lot. One blow, and that’s all it took for the other guy to go down. But, I mean, Aran’s strong enough that he could literally haul me up if I was about to fall, and I weigh two hundred pounds. That other guy stood no chance. And the fact that it took half of the Bolts to hold Aran back gave me chills. I’m not sure whether they were good or bad. It was just the realization that I’ve been treating him as a pal when he’s an untamed, testosterone-filled entity I don’t really understand.
And what little I know of him makes me worry. Because what does it take for impassive, nonchalant Aran Rodriguez to snap like that?
I wonder if he’s okay. I hope his hand’s not hurt. Maybe I’ll text him when I get home.
Wyatt keeps talking, oblivious to the fact that I’m fully in my head.
“Not gonna lie. At first, I was confused. Then I was kinda scared? Butthen—” He puts emphasis on the last word. “Then, I was kinda excited.”
“Wyatt!” I smack his shoulder, and he chuckles.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything.”
I can’t. Because it’s wrong of me to admit that, yes, Aran’s intensity does things to me. Those chills might’ve been what Wyatt is talking about. Maybe my lizard brain wondered what Aran is like when he uses all that sheer power for something else. When those deep eyes of his are looking at you like he wants to eat you up. Just not in an angry way. I dig my face into my fluffy scarf when I feel heat traveling up my neck.
Wyatt checks his phone. “Anyway, thanks for keeping me company while I waited for my date to be done with practice.”
“Well, thanks for the emotional support, I guess.”
“See you later, Maddie!”
I wave at him, and we part ways in the parking lot. My head still churns as I get in my car and drive home.
Yeah, so I’m as attracted to Aran, like he and I are magnets of opposite polarity. Who isn’t? At least half of the stadium probably swooned too. But this changes nothing. He’s still completely out of my reach. And more importantly, he’s my friend. How awkward would things get for him, for Ryan, and for everyone else, if I start drooling over him?
I’ll just have to drool in private. Forcing myself to ignore this hasn’t helped at all.
I get home and climb the four floors with relative ease now that I’ve been living here for a month. The apartment is dark,cold, and silent as a tomb. Ryan and the Strikes had an away game, so she’ll come back home pretty late.
“Should’ve watched that one. But no, you had to choose the home game because it’d be easier that way,” I mumble to myself as I ease off my winter clothes.
Easier my behind. I chose the home game because Aran was playing in it. And now look—I’m home alone, my blood is still roaring in my ears, and I want to cry.
Pulling my phone from my bag, I decide to at least attempt to be a good friend. I find Aran’s contact near the top of my list on the text messaging app.
Me
Hey, are you okay?
I hesitate a little but hit send. Friends are allowed to be concerned about each other. And their primary function is giving encouragement when needed, right?
But maybe Aran doesn’t want any. In fact, I spend about five minutes checking to see if he’s at least read it, and nothing.
