Chapter 18
Alondra
“I’m actually obsessed,” Sara says, her jaw dropping as she takes in my costume.
“It’s not too much?” I ask, looking down.
I feel a little ridiculous in the flannel and denim shorts, but it’s the cowboy hat and boots that make it obvious.
It’s not practical in the slightest because who in their right mind would wear shorts when it’s forty degrees outside?
But I guess that just means I’m not in my right mind.
“Hell no. Girl, if I thought you swung that way, I’d spend my entire night trying to take you home,” Sara says, and I think my cheeks might be as red as the cowboy boots on my feet.
“It’s perfect. Chef’s kiss,” Macy says, blowing me a kiss, and I think she might have the most creative costume of us.
She’s wearing a white apron over a red dress with lipstick kiss marks on it that match her cherry lips and a white headband.
The mixing spoon in Macy’s hand really completes the costume.
“She’s right. You do look good,” Ellie adds, pushing in the last bobby pin, securing her blonde hair up in the high bun. She slips into the light-up wings, spinning around. “How do I look?”
“Dylan won’t be able to keep his tongue in his mouth,” I tease, and her whole body flushes a bright red color. Maybe we would have been better off buying those inflatable dinosaur costumes off the Internet. I feel good, and I know I look hot, but what if I actually look stupid?
“Shut up. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbles, adjusting her wings and the top of her citrus green dress.
“Oh my god, are we still pretending you haven’t had a crush on Dylan Jones since freshman year, Tinkerbell?” Sara asks, and I probably shouldn’t be laughing because I’m more confused than ever about Jack.
I may or may not be wearing this in my attempt to get him to kiss me to prove that my attraction to him is purely physical.
“And what are you planning on riding tonight?” Ellie asks, raising an eyebrow at me. “Maybe a certain hockey captain, who’s been crashing on our couch the last few nights?”
The conversation with Jack’s friends and Ellie about Bradley was uncomfortable, but I’m not sure anything would have been worse than Jack shooting me down in his truck after the game last Friday night.
I made up with Macy, but I couldn’t avoid telling her about Bradley when Jack insisted we all crash at their place that night.
I got into a heated argument with Jack because he wanted to give up his bed for us to sleep in, but with another game Saturday, he was reluctant to agree.
I didn’t give anyone specifics—just a generalized explanation that the last guy I dated wasn’t a great guy, and he showed up at the apartment.
I couldn’t even look at Dylan during the conversation because he had been with Jack, and obviously there’s more to it than what I said, but he didn’t call me on my bullshit.
Jack suggested later that night I should tell all of them, but I don’t want to.
Even with the vague details, all three of them volunteered to give up their room for us to move into temporarily, but we quickly vetoed that idea.
I refuse to let Bradley scare me from my safe place, and I love our apartment, so we compromised by agreeing to let them take turns crashing on our couch.
I have yet to see them take turns, though, because it’s been Jack staying the night every night.
It feels like overkill, especially because Bradley’s not stupid enough to show up twice in a week, but it does make me feel better knowing there’s someone there who can help if he does.
A laugh sputters from me, and I struggle to find my words. “We’re friends,” I say, but it feels like a weaker argument every time I have to point it out.
“A friend you wanna make out with,” Ellie sings and Macy pours a round of shots.
“Look, I know I talk a lot of shit on Willow for trying to get with my brother, but as long as you aren’t going to go all stalker chick on Jack, I like the idea of you guys together.
He’s hot, you’re hot, and you guys would make really cute babies, but it also helps that he’s not my brother. ”
“Guys, I’m his tutor and I’m helping him find a girlfriend,” I say, taking the shot glass from Macy. There’s zero need to be talking about babies.
“Damn, maybe I need to get a tutor,” Sara adds, adding the final dusting of glitter to her arms. She’s going as a vampire, but all I know is that glitter is going to be a nightmare to get rid of later.
“I think you all look hot enough to bang, and I guarantee those boneheads will agree with me. There won’t be anyone sleeping on your couch tonight,” she jokes, but goddamn, a part of me wants her to be right.
“I fucking love Halloween,” Macy says, an extra bounce in her step as we walk up to the guys’ booming house, filled with more people than I’ve ever seen here. It fits the label of what you’d imagine a stereotypical college athlete’s house to look like on one of the biggest party nights of the year.
“I bet Coop’s head is about to explode. He hates stuff like this,” Ellie adds, laughing, a slight wobble to her step from the additional shots she and Sara did with Macy before we left the apartment.
Sometimes I wish I had a sibling so they could be a built-in best friend, and so they could understand what it was like for me growing up because they would’ve been in the thick of it with me.
Or they could have been someone else my parents would’ve loved more than me, like Macy and her sister, so I guess maybe it’s a blessing my parents didn’t have any other kids.
“I think he just hates people,” Sara adds, and I tug at the bottoms of my shorts as if I were magically able to add an extra few inches of denim to the length. I did one shot for courage, but they look like they’re having a much better time after the three shots they took in quick succession.
I know athletes tend to run in the same crowd, but I’m hoping Bradley isn’t stupid enough to show up here tonight where the entire hockey team will be, and I think they’re more likely to shoot first and ask questions later where their captain is involved.
I shove aside all thoughts of my ex, trying to focus on my mission for tonight, when we enter the chaos of the house I’ve become very familiar with.
I find Jack in the kitchen on my mission with Macy to find drinks, but I plan on sticking with something light so I can’t blame alcohol for my decisions tonight.
He wasn’t joking about using the black eye to his advantage, and I should be far more worried about how little clothes he’s wearing than how short my shorts are.
I’ve felt his muscles and seen them before in the picture we uploaded to Jack’s dating profile, but it’s different seeing them in all their glory right before me.
His athletic shorts hang low on his hips, and his hands are wrapped in some kind of athletic tape while he holds a water bottle in his hand, but it’s his damn dimples I can’t look away from.
It feels like time slows down when he laughs, and his eyes land on me as he turns his head.
He doesn’t say anything, walking away from the guy he was talking to, stopping in front of me. If it weren’t for the look in his crystal eyes, I’d think Jack was mad at me, and I capitalize on the moment. I tip the brim of my hat at Jack, smirking at him. “Howdy, partner.”
“You know, I think I’ll find the drinks on my own,” Macy says, giving me an extra push forward that knocks the smirk right off my face as I stumble into Jack, catching myself by landing with both palms on his hot, muscular abdomen.
Oh my god.
I pull away, and a full laugh bursts from Jack. “If you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask,” he drawls, leaning in for me to hear him over everything else going on around us. “I like your costume, darlin’.”
“I would say I like yours, but you’ve left very little to the imagination,” I say, looking up from his rippled stomach to Jack’s ridiculous pecs, realizing his necklace is on full display.
At the bottom of the silver chain hangs a dainty silver pendant in the shape of a figure skate. It’s simple, and the metal is worn in some spots, but as much as I want to keep staring at it, I force myself to look up at his stupidly handsome face, marred by the fading green bruise around his eye.
“I think you’ve given me too much to imagine,” Jack mumbles, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to hear him say that.
“What?” I ask, pretending like I’m not sure what he’s implying.
Jack reaches up, twirling one of my curls around his finger, tugging on it gently. “Do you want a drink?” he asks, reaching to adjust the way my hat sits on my head. “I cut a lime earlier and hid it in the back of the fridge if you wanted some.”
“You cut a lime up?”
“Yeah. You like to add them to your drinks, but I didn’t know what you were wanting to drink tonight, so the least I could do was make sure you have limes,” Jack says, his blue eyes twinkling, and I feel off-balance.
Jack knows I like limes in my drinks, so he bought a lime and cut it for me?
“So what are you drinking tonight?” he asks, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
I’m terrified of wanting to be physically close to someone again, but I think if I were to take the first step, Jack would be the perfect person.
He’s king of unattached hookups, and just because I’m attracted to him, it doesn’t mean I have feelings for Jack.
“Just water,” I say, changing my mind from the beer I planned to have because there is zero doubt in my mind that Jack will be hooking up with someone by the end of the night, and I think I want it to be me.
His eyebrows knit, and he tilts his head. “Why don’t you want a drink?”