Chapter 13 Maya
THIRTEEN
MAYA
On my way across campus Saturday night, I garner several strange looks. It’s worth it. Easton might have me braving a party at the hockey house for him, but just to rile him up, I’m wearing Ryan’s jersey as a joke.
I take it from the amount of blue and green hockey fan gear I spot on and off campus, the guys won their home game this afternoon.
When I reach the square at the center of town, Reagan sends a text to our group chat saying she’s running late, but she’ll try to be there later.
Hana responds to say she can’t make it after all, apologizing for bailing on us to practice choreography for her upcoming solo.
“Shit,” I mumble.
That leaves me heading to party with the hockey team and their crowd alone. Wearing an Elmwood jersey.
I hesitate in front of the coffee shop, debating waiting for Reagan in there. Another text pops up on my screen. I roll my lips between my teeth.
Hat Trick King: You’re still coming, right?
Maya: Ohhhh, that was tonight?
Hat Trick King: :( :(
Maya: Kidding. Almost there. Picked out my outfit just for you.
He replies with a heart. The rush of delight is ridiculous. I tamp down on it to keep my feelings in check. We’re friends. Nothing more.
My pulse skitters again at the thought of him walking with me the other night and because he was the only person to recognize I was upset when he found me on campus. He’s the kind of friend who buys me food and lets me cry all over him while he held me.
I close my eyes, murmuring firmly. “Just friends.”
The hockey team’s house isn’t much further. It’s just off the square with historic charm and a wraparound porch. I’ve heard the freshmen have to dorm in the school’s housing for athletes on campus, but the rest of them live here like a frat house.
I blend in with the group of people entering ahead of me, planning to slip by Noah as he greets them. An arm stops me in my tracks once I’m through the door. Cameron grins at me, shaking his head.
He whips off his baseball cap and scrubs at his hair before putting it on backwards. “And where do you think you’re going?”
I gesture to the sounds of music and chatter down the hall. “The party I was invited to.”
“Wearing that? Noah, get a load of this.”
His teammate turns around and busts out laughing. When he recovers, he braces a forearm against the wall, subtly blocking me from leaving the entryway with his huge frame.
“What, is there some cover I didn’t hear about?” I lift my brows. “I thought girls got into every party here for free.”
“Hate to admit it, because fucking Elmwood, but you pull off the red,” Noah says. “You’re asking for trouble wearing that in here.”
“So? People have to exist all the time with fans of teams they don’t like occupying the same space.” I grin. “The Devils and Rangers fans, the Eagles and Cowboys fans—they manage. Mostly. Can’t you handle it like big boys?”
Noah opens and closes his mouth. Someone else comes through the door behind me. The guy takes one look at my Elmwood jersey and boos at me like a shitty ten year old. Or a sports fan.
“There. That.” Noah snaps his fingers. “We can’t have that. We’re celebrating tonight.”
“It’s for your own good. We’ll find you something else to put on if you want to stay.” Cameron cups a hand next to his mouth and shouts. “Easton! C’mere.”
“I’m good.” I flip my hair. “I did my makeup to coordinate with these colors.”
Noah snorts into his fist. He claps Easton’s shoulder when he rounds the corner from the hallway.
“What’s up? Did the beer run fall through? Brody texted to say it’s all good—Oh.” Easton spots me.
I wiggle my fingers in a little wave. “Hi.”
“Hey. You came.” His attention lowers and he lets out a rueful laugh. “And you’re wearing your brother’s jersey to a Knights party.”
Biting my lip around a smile, I twirl to show off. “I remembered how much you liked it the night we met. Told you that you’d love the outfit I picked out.”
He hums. “I’d like it more if it was on my floor.”
My mouth pops open. “Yeah, you wish.”
Cameron stands sentry at Easton’s side, smirking. “You’ve got two options if you want to party. Change…or change.”
I squint, making a show of tapping my finger against my chin in thought. “I think I’ll go with…option three.”
Offering an innocent smile, I flip them off. A huff of amusement shakes Easton’s shoulders. He prods his cheek with his tongue, eyeing me up and down.
It doesn’t bother me that his friends were joking around with me over this, but my stomach tightens. His expression says I’m a five-star feast and he’s fucking starving.
“Your call, E.” Noah smirks, slinging an arm across Easton’s shoulder. “But you’d better stick by her side in case she needs a bodyguard. You’ll have to fend off everyone here.”
Easton’s eyes don’t leave mine and a smug grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t let you in here like that, sweetheart. Not while you’re wearing our rival team’s jersey.”
“And if I don’t want to take it off?” I challenge, mirroring his grin with a sassy one.
He gives his friends sidelong glances and comes forward, dipping his chin with a playful smirk. “I can work with that. What’s it gonna be? Take it off, or I’m taking it off for you and burning it in the fire pit.” He lowers his voice. “One way or another that jersey’s coming off, baby.”
A shiver works down my spine. I peer up at him through my lashes.
The idea of cocky hockey players pulling something like this on me would normally send me running in the other direction.
But that’s the version of myself that’s been stuck by avoiding guys like Easton, instantly on guard to protect myself from getting hurt again by someone that doesn’t care about me.
I’ve never given anyone else a chance.
But Easton…I think I want to give him a chance.
Rather than uncertainty about his intentions, I’m having fun. This is similar to the camaraderie I had with Ryan and his friends growing up, before I started dating his teammate. Part of me missed this feeling when I closed my heart off from this side of myself.
Easton stares me down, as captivated as he was by me dancing on the bar when he came to my rescue.
It spurs me on with confidence, flooding me with a sense of deviousness. I’m down to play this game, and I’ll do it better than them.
“Oh yeah? Sounds serious. So I should take it off?” My lips curve slowly as I lift the hem with each taunting question to reveal bare skin. “Right here? Right now?”
Easton’s buddies cheer. His eyes snap up from the expanse of skin I’m showing off.
He shoots an annoyed look at his teammates. “Hang on—”
“I guess unless you want me partying with you in my bra, one of you better go get me something to put on.”
Before I lift the jersey to reveal it, Easton moves.
Within two strides, he’s in front of me, using his body to block me from his teammates’ view.
I swallow as he pulls me in close, fisting the material at my back.
The guys continue to joke about defeating the enemy, but I’m trapped in his intense blue gaze.
He shifts closer, lips brushing my temple. “I don’t want to see you wear another guy’s stuff, Maya. Not even my teammates’ clothes. Come with me.”
My stomach dips at his voice in my ear and his scent surrounding me. I bite my lip around a smile.
“Fine, hotshot. You can have it your way. This time.”
He smirks. “Good girl.”
Then he bends to haul me over his shoulder, carrying me up the steps. A laugh escapes me. His boys hype us up and it stirs a comfortable, warm glow in my chest. I cling to him so I don’t overbalance us.
“Is this how you get all the girls to your room?”
His big hand squeezes the back of my thigh, holding me steady. “No. Just you.”
“So this is our thing?”
Another squeeze of my thigh. “It could be if you were my girl. But you’re not mine.”
“Yet,” I tease when we reach the top of the staircase.
“Yet,” he echoes, the smile evident in his voice as his thumb rubs absent circles that send tingles up my thigh.
Butterflies fill my stomach when we enter his room. It’s surprisingly cozy with a decent sized bed, and it’s cleaner than I pictured after growing up with a hockey player for a brother.
When he sets me on my feet with care not to drop me, I’m struck with curiosity because it’s hardly the room I’d expect of a notorious playboy that takes a different girl to bed every night.
“No roommate? That’s a nice perk.”
He chuckles, closing the door. “Team captain gets the big room with my own bathroom. Last year I was rooming with Cameron down the hall.”
I peer around at the Bruins posters, hockey gear taking over the corner by the tall windows, and his disorganized desk with half-scribbled scrimmage notes.
Photos of him with his teammates and family dot the walls.
The one where he’s wearing the same green Heston University t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest catches my eye.
He’s holding a boy several years younger than him on his shoulders with a woman that has to be his mom. It makes me smile softly.
I hold my arms out in the middle of the room. “You’ve finally got me where you’ve been trying to get me for like half the semester.”
“Four weeks, if we want to be exact.”
I blink, mentally counting how long it’s been since the Heston vs Elmwood game in October. I’m surprised he’s kept track.
“Well, you’ve got me here.”
“Just for a shirt.”
Without breaking eye contact, he reaches behind his head and tugs, stripping off the shirt he’s wearing. My mouth goes dry at the sexy, effortless move. I stare at the hard planes of his bare chest. His muscles flex, abs and biceps contracting.
I swallow.
Then swallow again, because once isn’t enough.
Easton hands his shirt to me. The cotton is soft and warm between my fingertips. It’s more faded than the photo of him with his family. He offers me privacy to change by turning around.