Chapter Seventeen Lacey
Chapter Seventeen
Lacey
When I woke up this morning, my stomach was in knots. Excitement and nerves. It was like I was going to play in a big soccer game instead of watching it from the sidelines.
I guess it’s just that I know how much it means to Vaughn. All the work he did studying was for this.
But by halftime, the nerves are gone. The game is a blowout. Saint Catherine is down four goals, and the momentum keeps going for Frost Lake.
Coach Collins is rotating his players more liberally now that we’re down to the final minutes of the game. The Frost Lake crowd is ecstatic. We cheer each new side out and substitution like it’s the most important play of the century.
My cheeks hurt from smiling.
Vaughn jogs down the field, still concentrated and serious, like he hasn’t seen the scoreboard or just doesn’t care.
He’s responsible for two of the four goals, the first only minutes after the game started.
It was a beautiful moment as his teammates and the crowd showered him with applause and screams. He reminded everyone of exactly why he’s their captain.
He leads not only by constantly pumping up his guys, but by being an example on the field.
Vaughn’s gaze lifts from the field to the stands and somehow lands on me. He holds my stare for only a moment before refocusing on the game, but my stomach flutters from the brief eye contact.
“Was Vaughn just staring at you?” Claire asks, shooting me a smug look.
“What? No.” My voice is entirely too high-pitched. Thankfully the noise of the crowd drowns out some of my shrill denial.
My best friend glances from me to the field and back. “I think he was.”
“He was probably checking for college scouts or something.”
“Vaughn doesn’t want to go to college.”
Right. I shrug one shoulder and then shove another handful of popcorn in my mouth to stop whatever feelings are happening. I cannot be checking out Vaughn Collins. And he’s not checking me out either.
He’s arrogant and broody. And my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.
And he only cares about soccer. Whatever friendship we’ve created is just a byproduct of spending so much time together.
“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing if he was staring at you,” she says.
“It wouldn’t?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re hot. With as much time as you’ve spent together, even Vaughn must have noticed.”
I snort a laugh.
“Are you into him?” she asks. I think I detect the slightest bit of anxiety in her voice. It isn’t like I think she wants to be with him, but I imagine it’s still strange for her to think of anyone else dating him. Especially me.
“Definitely not,” I say too quickly.
Claire laughs, brows slightly raised.
The referee blows the whistle, and I glance back out to the action, gaze somehow going right to the one guy I’m trying to avoid. He’s scowling even now when it’s so apparent they’re going to win today.
“He’s not my type. At all.”
“You have to date to have a type,” she says in a singsong taunting voice that only a best friend can pull off without you wanting to punch them.
“Ouch.” I let out a small laugh as I toss a few popcorn kernels at her.
“No, you don’t get to be offended. It isn’t like you couldn’t find a date if you wanted.”
It still stung a little. “Exactly. I’m too busy this year.”
“That is such a bad excuse.” Claire all but rolls her eyes at me. She’s still smiling, but clearly thinks I’m full of shit. She’s right. Didn’t I just tell Vaughn that he couldn’t use the very same excuse?
“Fine. I don’t want to date.”
“Why not? It’s fun.” She gives me her doe-eyed, lovesick expression. “There’s hand holding and kissing.”
A small laugh escapes my lips. The kissing does sound nice. “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t found anyone that I like enough that the effort feels worth it.”
“What about Mark?” She sits tall and looks down the bleachers. I follow her gaze to the only Mark in view.
“Brandon’s friend?” I ask. They play hockey together and we had a Geography class together freshman year, but otherwise I don’t know that much about him.
Claire nods eagerly.
I lean forward to look at him a little closer. He has dark brown hair and ruddy cheeks from the cold. I think his eyes are brown, but I can’t tell from here. “He’s cute, I guess.”
Apparently, that is all the encouragement Claire needs. She squeals with excitement and nudges Andie on her other side. “What do you know about Mark?”
I’m already regretting saying anything before Andie’s brows pull together then smooth out as a smile curves her lips.
She glances around Claire to me. “Are you into him?”
“Yes,” Claire says at the same time I say, “No.”
“I don’t know him enough to be into him,” I clarify.
“He and Sara just broke up, so he’s single,” Andie says.
“That’s perfect!” Claire smiles at me. She and I seem to have differing definitions of the word.
I don’t want some guy who’s just getting out of a relationship.
What if he’s heartbroken? What if he did something really awful, like cheated on her, and that’s why they broke up?
What if he starts every sentence with, “My ex and I used to…?”
“Are you going to Doyle’s cabin later?” Andie asks me, clearly not reading my hesitation.
I had planned on going to the party, but the idea of being set up when I get there has me reconsidering.
“She’s going,” Claire tells her.
I offer her a glum look that makes her laugh.
“You’d think we were making plans to do something really awful by the look on your face.” She shakes her head at me.
“Now going feels like a lot of pressure,” I admit. Being set up is the worst.
“You’re going,” Claire says in a way that leaves no room for arguing. She’s annoyingly stubborn sometimes.
A whistle on the field signals the end of the game. I’m temporarily distracted from my friends as I watch the guys celebrate on the field. Vaughn is smiling for the first time all day.
“They did it!” Claire clutches onto my forearm and bounces around. She screams for Austin, and he looks up at her, making half a heart with his first and middle fingers. She does the same with one hand, still holding on to me and screaming.
“You two are adorable,” I tell her when she glances my way again.
“I know,” she says proudly. “Now let’s go change. You’re going to knock Mark’s socks off tonight.”
* * *
Three hours later I’m dressed in jeans and a cute top no one is going to see because it’s too cold outside, and my hair has been curled and sprayed. I’m usually a big fan of dressing up and going out, but Claire and Andie have me nervous and antsy as we pull up to Doyle’s cabin.
My breath is visible in the night air as we hustle from the car to the front door. The cabin is small but warm. A wood stove in the living room is going and a group of guys are playing cards at the dining room table.
“Brandon and the hockey guys are out back,” Andie says and takes off toward the back door.
Claire and I follow behind her. Matt Doyle’s cabin sits in front of a large, forested area. The backyard is big, extending out toward the tree line.
A bonfire is already going in the middle of the yard, and people are huddled around it for warmth.
“I’m going to go find Austin,” Claire says to me as we approach Brandon and Mark and the rest of the hockey team.
She stares across the yard, and I look that direction, easily spotting the group of soccer guys. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” Claire stops, and I nearly ram into the back of her. “Go with Andie and talk to Mark. Don’t ruin my efforts.”
She fusses with my hair, pulling one side over my shoulder. “You look amazing.”
“I should, considering how much time you and Andie spent on me.”
She grins, then her mouth falls into a serious line. “Go.”
“I don’t know what to talk to him about.”
“Just say hi and ask him about hockey.”
“Hockey?”
“Yeah…” Her eyes light up. “Ask him if he’s ready for the game against Stoutland next week.”
Then she leaves me alone. I blow out a breath and huddle closer to Andie. She opens up the circle to let me in. I can tell the second I lock eyes with Mark that Andie or Brandon said something about me to him. That or this hairdo is as magical as Claire hoped it would be.
He’s a cute guy, objectively. His dark hair is a little too long and hangs in his eyes. He’s tall but not overly. Not as tall as Vaughn. And I was right—his eyes are a warm brown. Vaughn’s are a brighter shade of blue, like sparkling sapphires.
“Hey, Lacey.” Mark nods his head as he greets me, smiling so easily it just makes me further compare him to…
Oh my god, I’m comparing him to Vaughn.
“Hi,” I say, pushing the broody, hot soccer captain out of my head.
“Cold out tonight, huh?” He has both hands shoved in his front pockets and his shoulders hunched up to his ears.
“Yeah.”
An awkward silence falls between us. I glance around the yard, gaze landing on the guy I’m absolutely not still thinking about.
He’s in the middle of a group of his teammates but has his usual half-interested, bored expression on his face.
When our eyes lock, a flicker of something flashes across his face, but there’s too much distance between us for me to decipher it.
Still my pulse quickens, and I look away.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” I tell Mark.
“I’ll come with you.”
I thought I was going to have a few moments to myself, but at least we’re moving and not standing there in awkward silence anymore.
There’s a cooler on the back deck filled with beer and soda. Mark flips open the lid and grabs a beer. He offers it to me, and I take it with a muttered, “Thanks.”
“So,” he starts, but another voice cuts in.
Louder, more confident.
“Hey.”
I know that voice. My heart flutters as I swivel around quickly and take him in. Tall, broad, intimidating. He’s just like I remember him, but the mayhem he’s causing on my nervous system is new.
“Nice game today,” Mark says to him. He’s not nearly as rattled by Vaughn’s sudden appearance, but he speaks to him with an air of respect.