Chapter 3
MAC
“This is literally the worst place in the world to study,” I mutter.
“Seriously,” Fee agrees.
Fee suggested we go up to her apartment that she shares with Tally when we first arrived.
It would be my preference because her space would smell like her and not burnt cheese, but Gage is Gage-ing hard.
A girl in Fee’s apartment-style residence that he’s digging on passed us on the way in, so instead of going somewhere practical, where we can hear ourselves think, we’re sitting in the common room on Fee and Cammie’s floor, accomplishing nothing.
At least the view across from me is great, but I’ve barely made a dent in my assignment.
“I’m working up the nerve to talk to her. I need my wing-people.” Gage is doing a terrible job of being discreet with the way he keeps checking out the girl sitting two tables over with her friends.
Unfortunately, she keeps looking over here, but not at Gage.
“Just bite the bullet and ask her out so we can relocate somewhere more reasonable for studying.” Fee tugs on the end of her blond ponytail. She has bright blue paint caked under her nails, and a few dots of hot pink on the back of her hand. It’s cute.
Lately I’ve noticed that Fee tugs her ponytail often when girls interrupt our conversations, so I guess it’s tied to frustration.
Which is understandable. We rarely, if ever, make it through an evening or event without several interruptions.
But it’s ramped up with the impending hockey gala.
There’s one person I’d like to ask, and she’s currently sitting across from me, looking slightly annoyed.
“I can’t rush this. I’m feeling the situation out,” Gage explains. “Maybe I should invite her to our game this weekend against Guelph. That could be a good litmus test.”
“But you won’t get to spend any time with her,” Fee argues.
“But she gets to show her support and watch me play,” Gage reasons.
“Right, because that’s supposed to be an honor,” Fee replies cheekily.
Fee isn’t like the other starry-eyed girls at Tilton.
Her sister is the assistant coach for the Terror.
She knows hockey, hell, she even knows the guys on the team.
She went to Tristan Stiles’ engagement party and his wedding in Aruba.
Roman Forrest-Hammer, formerly Hammerstein, the legendary goalie, is married to her sister.
Fee could not be less impressed by Tilton hockey players if she tried.
It’s actually refreshing. And another reason I’ve kept my crush on her a secret.
I never want to be the kind of guy who uses my friends for their connections, and I’ve seen enough guys flirt with Fee for the wrong reasons. I won’t be one of them.
Gage frowns. “I don’t want to date a girl who doesn’t appreciate my future career aspirations.”
“Fair. But is it less about that, and more about her watching you dominate on the ice, swooning over you, and the opportunity for you to get naked and horizontal with her later?” Fee asks.
Gage either misses her sarcasm or is too focused on defending his position. “I mean, we might not get naked on the first date, just depends on how we’re vibing. But it’s more likely to happen if we win the game because I’ll be riding the high.”
I don’t know how Gage does it, jumping from girl to girl. It must be exhausting.
Fee seems exasperated by his explanation.
“I really hope I can get it together before we play Guelph,” I blurt. I’ve been wickedly off my game the past couple of weeks. Chase is having a killer season and so are Gage and Brody—the latter was born ready for the pros—but I’m over here fumbling pucks and taking bad shots.
Gage brushes it off. “You’ll be fine, bro. Performance only matters on game day.”
“Yeah. It’ll be fine,” I agree, not because I believe it, but thinking about this makes me sweat, and I don’t want to have a panic attack in the middle of the common room, and especially not in front of Fee.
A girl sashays over, wearing a bright smile. “Hey, Mac! Hey, Gage! Hi, Fee and Cammie!”
Gage waves.
“Hey, Laura, how’s it going?” Fee’s smile is a little tight.
“Good! You?” She doesn’t wait for Fee’s reply before she turns back to me. “So, Mac, the hockey gala sounds like so much fun, am I right?”
Fee exhales loudly and settles her soft, warm hand gently on my bare forearm.
Fee is touching me on purpose.
Her hand is on my arm.
My brain fritzes out at the unexpected contact. I look from her delicate hand with the evidence of her major tucked under the nails, still wrapped around my forearm, to Fee’s pretty face, but she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at Laura.
Which means I can stare at Fee’s perfect profile. She has a tiny dot of pink paint near her earlobe. I have the unfathomable urge to lean in and kiss the spot. But Fee doesn’t like me like that.
She smiles placidly up at Laura. “I know everyone is so excited about the hockey gala, but do you think you can let my boyfriend study?”
I’m pretty sure I’m on drugs, because Fee just called me her boyfriend. And she’s still touching me. I never want this moment to end, even if it’s caused by an accidental hallucinogenic.
“Oh! Oh my God.” Laura raises both of her hands and backs up a step.
I drag my gaze away from Fee, processing Laura’s shock and mortification.
“I didn’t realize. I thought you were just friends. I’m so sorry.” Her face flushes, and she rushes out of the commons.
“Dude!” Gage slaps the table, expression gleeful. “I have been waiting for this! How long has it been going on? I thought I caught a vibe. I should have put bets on this with Brodes.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. I haven’t told anyone about my crush on Fee. How the fuck does Gage know?
Fee holds up her hand, which sadly means she severs the contact with my arm. I immediately feel bereft.
“Calm down, Gage.” She motions between us and drops her voice.
“We are not a thing, but none of us are getting any work done in here and someone is hitting on Mac every four fucking seconds, so I’m just trying to make our lives easier and slightly less frustrating.
And if Mac is taken, then maybe someone will hit on you instead. ”
Gage’s eyes light up. “That’s actually super smart.”
Fee rolls her eyes. “You’re welcome.”
I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I desperately want to turn this fiction into reality.