Page 3 of Wrapped Around My Heart
Much too quickly, she pulls away with a sigh.
“We should get back before Landon comes looking for us.” Yet Arianna doesn’t move away. Bending forward, I capture her lips once more.
I can feel the way she smiles into the kiss, the way her fingers grip the fabric of my shirt as she clings to me.
When she finally pulls away, she completely untangles herself from my arms and straightens her sweater out.
“Last time, right?” she asks, voicing the words I refuse to accept.
Arianna isn’t ready to face the fact that she is so much more than a sneaky hookup to me. She’s the light in every room, and I’ll do or say whatever to stay in her orbit.
In this case, it means not scaring her off with how hard I’ve fallen for her. I’ll take her stolen moments rather than risk losing her completely.
Instead of answering her, I unlock the door and pull it open. I flash her a wide smile, shoving my desires and fears of losing her deep down, and motion for her to lead the way.
CHAPTER 1
Arianna
1 yearlater
“I think you should wear this one,” Vivian yells from my closet. I finish the pass of mascara over my lashes and lean over to look out my bathroom door.
My best friend’s arm is all I can see, one of my many Bobcats hockey shirts hanging from her fingers. Considering there’s a whole four-foot section in my closet dedicated to the hockey team, the one she picked surprises me. Years of my brother playing on the team means he gets clothes all the time and I happily raid through his picks. Same goes for Dean. They both willingly sit back and let me have first choice to whatever they get. Add in the fact that I have a little bit of a shopping problem…I’m well stocked on wardrobe options for the games.
The one Vivian chose isn’t from my brother, but surprisingly, it’s also not one of Dean’s. The shirt she picked is the team’s dark red shirt, with a picture of a Bobcat appearing to jump out across the midsection. There’s a deep V-cut in the neckline that goes down lower than any of my others and the drawstrings that zigzag across the chest only drag more attention to my boobs.
“That one makes me feel like I’m wearing a neon sign that tells people to look at my boobs,” I tell Viv, straightening back out to finish applying my mascara.
“Well, great tits come with great responsibility.” She steps into the bathroom with the shirt. “If I remember correctly, the last time you wore this, a certain goalie had one of his best games.”
I roll my eyes, dropping the mascara tube into the clear bin that holds my very small makeup collection.
“Dean’s performance has nothing to do with me.”
“From what you’ve said about that man’sperformance, I doubt that.” She holds the shirt out for me, her voice teasing as she continues, “We could always put it to the test and see how the game goes today.”
Snatching the shirt from her, I grumble about how my tits being on display have no correlation to the team’s performance and start rattling off team stats to further prove my point that the Bobcats win because they’re simply that good. But even as I back myself up with numbers and data, I still change into the shirt.
Vivian throws her hands up in the air when I finally pause. “Fine, you’re right. Cover up your tits. They’re not magical and have no correlation to the team winning or not.”
“I mean, I’m already in the shirt, so…”
Her grin is victorious as she spins on her heel and heads back into my bedroom. As she talks about the guy she’s been dating, I tackle my curls into a French braid. Just as I’m tying it off with a golden hairband, Viv’s words actually sink in.
“Wait, what?” I shove away from the counter and march into my bedroom. “Say that again?”
She sits on the edge of my bed across the room, legs crossed, and a sheepish smile spread across her face.
“Dylan got a job offer in South Carolina.”
I cross my arms, ignoring the way she smirks as her gaze darts to my chest. “Yeah, I caught that part. Repeat what you saidafterthat.”
Vivian grimaces, dropping my stare and picking at the nonexistent lint from her pants.
“He asked me to go with him.”
“And you said…” I prompt, biting back the urge to tell her there’s no way in hell that she is going. She’s been dating Dylan for a few months now and he doesn’t seem like a horrible guy, but I’ve only hung out with him a handful of times.
