Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
DAISY
The house is packed. I hold on to Lauren’s hand as she pulls me through the throng of people, aiming for the four hockey players congregated in the kitchen.
“Looking good, Colorado.” Luke whistles when I step out from behind Lauren. He wraps an arm around me and tucks me into a half hug.
I feel good—maybe it has something to do with my favorite cowboy boots I just dug out from my suitcase or maybe it’s the black low-cut top Lauren keeps telling me I look edible in.
I’m pretty sure my boobs might pop out if I bend too low. When I catch Connor glancing at me from across the room, I’m tempted to do it just to see his reaction.
I tear my eyes away from him and refocus on Luke.
“I could say the same to you.” I flick the pink sash around his shoulder, right over the glitter printed Birthday Queen, making him chuckle. “Happy birthday.”
“You’re just in time,” he says, steering me toward the kitchen table. Six red Solo cups sit at either end of the table and a stripe of sparkly blue tape runs down the middle. “Your aim with a ping-pong ball better be as good as it is with a pool cue, because you’re on my team.”
“Cheating already, Luke?” Connor asks, rounding the kitchen island where the makeshift bar has been set up to join us. His eyes are on me, never once looking away, and I hate that I can’t seem to look away myself.
He’s in navy-blue slacks and a white button-down, sleeves pushed up his forearms. His hair is a little tousled, the top button open on his shirt, and a lopsided smile makes my stomach twist a little. It’s not fair how good he looks.
“Choosing the right team is not cheating,” Luke points out. “Pick your player, McKibben.”
He doesn’t even hesitate before holding his hand out to Lauren, a ping-pong ball in the middle of his palm. “Laur, you game?”
She steps up to the table, snatching it out of his hand. “I thought you would never ask.”
She takes aim, sending the plastic ball soaring through the air. It bounces on our side of the table, an inch too wide from our first cup, before trailing over the side of the table.
Luke barks a laugh. “Your aim is almost as bad as Connor’s.”
She sticks out her tongue at him before snatching up the second ball that Connor offers her. This time it sinks straight into the cup.
“Didn’t your Coach teach you to never underestimate your opponent?” she taunts as Luke pulls the ball out of the cup and frowns at the inch of beer inside.
“Don’t disappoint me, Daisy,” he jokes, before tossing the shot of beer back. He sets the empty cup down on the side of the table while I take my aim. I hit the target on the first attempt, earning a groan from Lauren on the other side of the table.
“Were you raised in a bar or something?”
I shrug sheepishly. “Something like that.”
It’s an easy win from there, between Luke getting most of his in, Lauren getting too worked up to actually aim, and me barely missing any.
By the time I sink the ball into the last of their cups, Luke is already wrapping his arms around me, hoisting me up and spinning me around to a bad rendition of We Are the Champions.
Connor dips his head, shaking it while he reaches for the cup, but I don’t miss the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and for a second I wonder if maybe he threw the game.
I don’t get a chance to think about it though, before Lauren calls for a redemption match against Vanessa and Finn.
“You better always be on my team.” Luke throws his arm over my shoulder and hands me a fresh drink. Rum and Coke, by the looks of it.
“Deal.” I laugh, settling in against him as we watch the new game that’s started.
It takes longer for each team to make a dent in their opponent’s lineup, but Connor’s aim is significantly better this round. When he looks up and finds me watching him, the sheepish shrug he gives me tells me everything I need to know.
Cheat, I mouth at him.
He throws his head back and laughs, earning him an elbow in the side from Lauren who tells him to focus on the game.
I feel a little lightheaded—maybe it’s the drinks or maybe it’s how easy it is between us. Whatever it is, I decide some fresh air might do me some good.
I step away from Luke and set my empty drink on the counter between us before disappearing out into the hallway.
I push open the back door to the garden and step out onto the back porch, breathing in the fresh evening air.
Spring has brought with it a freshness to the air that I haven’t felt in months.
The Christmas lights continue out here, illuminating the back porch in a hue of green and red.
Movement to my left catches my attention and I startle, turning to see Aiden sitting in a camping chair, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his face.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” he tells me, locking his phone and sliding it into the front pocket on his black jeans.
Despite the cold, his dress shirt is halfway unbuttoned.
I catch a glimpse of tattoos sprinkled across his chest before he starts doing up the buttons on his shirt, covering them before I can decipher the designs.
“You don’t say much, do you?”
He laughs and I realize it’s probably the first time I’ve seen him do anything other than scowl. “This place is loud enough without me adding my two cents, don’t you think?”
I wrap my arms around myself, shivering a little. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
He shrugs, and for a second it looks like he might say something, but before he gets the chance the door creaks open again, distracting us both. My heart does a little loop in my chest when Connor pops his head out. So much for clearing my head.
For a second he looks surprised to see me out here, his eyes lingering on me before turning to the goalie beside me. “Ollie is looking for you.” He grimaces. “He mentioned something about limbo.”
“Fuck,” Aiden groans, his head rolling back against the brick wall, eyes closing like the thought itself is painful.
“Want me to bail you out?”
Aiden sighs as he pushes to standing. “No, it’s okay. I owe him.”
Connor moves out of the doorway so Aiden can step past him. Before I know it, the door is shutting behind the goalie and I’m alone with Connor outside.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air.”
“I like this,” he says, tugging on the sleeve of my top. “You look good.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m halfway to flashing everyone at this party.”
“No.” He chuckles. “You always look good.”
“Connor.” His name is a warning on the tip of my tongue, but I’m not sure who I’m warning at this point. Just as I’ve been feeling his eyes on me all night, I haven’t been able to stop looking at him either. It really should be illegal for anyone to look that good in a button-down.
“Daisy,” he mocks, taking a step closer. I tip my head back.
“Stop teasing me.”
“You’re the one looking at me like you want to eat me up right here, right now.”
“I’m not,” I lie, a little too aware of the pull I’ve been feeling toward him all night.
“You sure about that?” he asks, one hand finding my hip and tugging me closer. I go easily. “It sure doesn’t feel like that to me.”
“Wishful thinking.”
“Mm,” he hums, his eyes falling to my mouth when my tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip.
“We’re friends,” I remind him. I’m grasping at straws, anything to remind myself why this shouldn’t happen again. Starting with the fact that I’m only here on borrowed time and ending with the lost-and-found lingerie collection he keeps in his bedside drawer.
But when Connor’s lips tuck up in a crooked smile and he leans in, I think I might just be okay with letting him burn me a little.
“We’re not that kind of friends though, are we?” He asks, pulling me closer until I feel him everywhere against me. Warm and hard and everything I’ve been craving.
“No,” I admit.
“Good, because I’ve thought about all of the things I want to do with you since the last time I kissed you.
That’s not very friendly, is it?” He leans closer, until there’s only a breath width between us.
“Do you want me to show you? Or do you want me to be really friendly and let you forget this conversation ever happened?”
I tip my head up, trying to get closer to him, trying to get him to kiss me.
“Words, Tulip.”
The screen door creaks behind us and a drunken couple stumbles out, and our little bubble is broken.
His hands fall away from my hips, and I hate myself for hesitating that extra second.
I’m tempted to put his hands back on me myself when he pulls back and smiles sadly.
And I feel it in my chest, that invisible tug pulling me closer to him.
I reach for him before he can step away, my hand shooting out to tangle in the front of his dress shirt. “Show me.”
His eyes find mine, flickering between them like he’s trying to read me. I think he might kiss me. I want him to—am just waiting for him to lean in. But his fingers intertwine with mine, giving my hand a soft tug, and then he’s pulling me back into the party.