Page 17 of Lost Boy

I wanted to tell Coach to shove this dancing shit up his ass when he first propositioned us weeks ago to do it. Because number one, most of us were already stupid busy between school, life, and hockey. But now, let’s add something else we need to do.

Jesus Christ, when does it end?

But when he told us that we were dancing for the One Wishfoundation, I couldn’t say no. Brody had started this foundation for kids who couldn’t afford to play sports or follow their dreams. It raises money for those who would likely never have the same opportunities as other kids do, simply because of what they were born into. And in doing all of this, Brody shared his story and all of his childhood shit with the world. He’s a real man. One I look up to more than he’ll ever know.

Even if he is making my life hell with this dancing shit.

Brody O’Brien took his crap situation and turned it into a positive. I took a bad situation, and then I made it a thousand times worse.

I never deserved to skate on the same ice as that motherfucker. Truth be told, not many do.

Texting her back, I let her know I’ll meet her at our usual spot in forty-five minutes, and then I toss my phone back in my bag.

This wouldn’t suck nearly as bad if my dance partner was someone else. Someone whose body I wanted to run my hands down.

Someone like Haley.

Haley

“Remind me again why we’re here,” I say to Remi as I shift on the metal bleachers, in hopes of awakening my ass that fell asleep ten minutes ago.

“Because I have an assignment. And my assignment is to interview the football players.” She grins. “Which, by the way …we still haven’t talked about that dirty dancing you were doing with one of them a few weeks ago.” She fans herself. “Hot.”

I poke her side before leaning back on my elbows. Truthfully, I can’t recall how hot the guy was or how good his dance moves were. The only part of that night worth remembering was when Cade cut in and danced with me. And that’s annoying.

“His name is Nash Jones. Just in case you were wondering,” she adds. “Just … like … FYI.”

“I wasn’t,” I toss back. And I mean it. I haven’t thought about the random dude I danced with. I wish I had been though because that would mean I hadn’t been thinking about a certain roommate of mine. A roommate named Cade.

“Welp, that sucks because he just so happens to be one of the guys I need to interview. And it looks like they are all done with practice.” Quickly standing, she grabs my arm and tugs me up. “Choppity-chop. Duty calls. Try to look friendly so they’ll agree to my interview, would you?” Looking at my shirt, she squints her eyes the slightest bit. “Pull your shirt down a little. Show some of that cleavage I’m so jealous of. That’ll for sure get me a full interview.”

Looking down, I do the opposite and pull my shirt up higher. “What?! No way. Not a chance in hell.”

“You’re no fun.” She pouts before heading toward the players.

Remi has dreams of going into sports broadcasting. Football being her main focus. The only information I know about sports is whatever my brother has told me. And if you asked me to name an athlete, I’d probably just rattle off Michael Jordan or Tom Brady because those are the only two names I’ve heard so many times that I know I wouldn’t screw them up.

As I follow her down the ramp and to the entrance by the field, she waves to the dozens of men heading our way. She’s not shy or embarrassed. Just the opposite as she marches toward them.

“Fellas, hey. My name is Remi, and I’m taking a class here at Brooks that requires me to interview some of the college’s most-talked-about athletes. I was wondering if a few of you could hang back and answer some questions about the upcoming season.” She awkwardly looks around the group of guys. “Specifically, Nash, Jace, and Tabor.”

Nash throws a towel lazily over his shoulder, giving her a grin. “Sure. I’ll do you one better. Why don’t you and your friend join us for a drink and something to eat at Club 83 after we shower?” His eyes float to mine, and his smile grows. “You guys like it there, right?”

I blush, biting my bottom lip and averting my eyes from his. Obviously, he is toying with me because he and I were just dancing at Club 83 last week.

“Sounds perfect,” Remi coos, fully in herget what I wantmode. “Meet us there in, say, an hour?”

“Make it forty-five minutes,” Tabor grumbles. “I’m hungry.”

“Perfecto!” She doesn’t hide her excitement. “See y’all soon.”

As they all strut off, some looking back to give us one last smirk, I drive my finger into her side. “Thanks, asshole. I really wanted to hang out with a bunch of football players this afternoon.”

“You’re welcome,” she tosses back lightly. “Anytime.”

She is impossible.

Cade

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