Page 34 of Golden Goal

LINCOLN

I raisemy fist and knock on Sutton's door, the anticipation churning in my stomach. Ronan stands to my left, clutching the bag of chips and candy we'd picked up from the gas station earlier.

Leia's revelation about Sutton and smoking caught me off guard. It's strange to picture Sutton as someone who'd do that; she's usually so in control and meticulous about planning things. But I guess everyone needs a way to unwind.

Giggles emanate from behind the door, but there's no sign that they're coming to open it. As we wait, my mind drifts to how I ended up here, standing outside a girl's dorm room with a bag of snacks for her and her friend.

Two months ago, I didn't even know Sutton Parker existed, and I had fewer worries. Now, she's all I think about. I wonder what she's up to, who she's with, and how her day went. It's a bunch of questions that aren't my business, yet I can't help but wonder.

My strategy of avoiding Sutton isn't working, and it frustrates me. Why do I even care? I find myself yearning to spend time with her constantly. Is that a friendly thing to do? Was it friendly to eagerly anticipate seeing her tonight, even to the point of begging her if she'd said no? I conclude it's not friendly at all. What the hell am I supposed to do with all these emotions?

Should I confide in Ronan? Hell no.

I spend another minute pondering the complexities of my life before the door suddenly swings open. Sutton stands in her pajamas, her presence illuminated by a radiant smile.

Cute.

I mentally scold myself. Cute? Seriously? I can't seem to rein in the crazy thoughts racing through my mind. Sutton waves us inside, but she lingers in the doorway, not letting us through.

"Hi, come in," she greets us, her words tinged with suspicion. Ah, that's why she's blocking the entrance.

She glances at Ronan and scrutinizes him until she spots the bag in his hand. Then, she lets out an excited squeal.

Before I know it, she grabs my hand, leaning over to snatch the bag from Ronan. Her grip on the bag's handle is tenacious, and he attempts to pull back. I can't help but watch in fascination as her leg swings out, aiming a kick at Ro's shin.

He surrenders the bag into her waiting hand, grinning. "Sorry, Sutt. Don't hurt me," he says, pushing past us to kick his shoes off near the door before hopping up to sit with his back against the wall at the end of Leia's bed.

I glance at his face, and it's clear he's relishing the moment. Sutton, on the other hand, stares daggers at him. "Don't mess with me," she states, a smug note in her voice.

Oh, well, that was different. Not bad, just different.

I state the obvious. "Are you okay?"

Sutton blinks up at me. "I feel so good." She waves her hands around for emphasis. "Good, good, good." A matching smile accompanies her words. "Great."

If I didn't already know she was high, that little performance would have given it away. It's refreshing to see this side of her, where she lets go and says whatever she wants. Sutton often puts others' needs before her own, and that frustrates me to no end.

Leia emerges suddenly, her body shooting up from beneath the blankets on her bed. She points a threatening finger at me. "She's a different woman now."

I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I nod anyway.

Leia startles, finally realizing that Ronan is seated at the end of her bed. It's astonishing that she didn't sense his two hundred-pound, not-so-graceful frame when he hopped onto the bed. She takes this as an opportunity to pick a fight with him, and the bickering begins.

Before I can fully focus on their argument, Sutton pulls on my hand, leading me to her bed. Thank goodness I opted for sweatpants and a crewneck because the idea of climbing into bed with jeans on is enough to make me shudder.

She steps on my foot, a subtle signal that it's time to take my shoes off. I kick them aside, earning a beaming smile from Sutton.

She hops onto her bed, wiggling around until she finds a comfortable position. I patiently wait until she's settled before climbing over her, taking my place against the wall. I make sure to leave some distance between us to respect her boundaries.

Sutton glances at me, her head tilting to the side. She scoots closer, boldly taking my hand and threading our fingers together. I look from our intertwined hands to her face, noticing her slightly red, droopy eyes as she offers me a sweet smile.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," she whispers back.

We sit shoulder to shoulder, our legs touching, and our hands entwined as we lean against her headboard. It's a more innocent position than the night she slept over, but for some reason, my heart is pounding like I've just played two hours of hockey. I can feel her body heat, and a desire to pull her onto my lap wells up within me, but that's not how friends behave. Yet, do friends hold hands? No, they don't.

So, what the fuck is happening right now?

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