Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zaiah
The clang of sticks reverberates around the rink. I stand from the bench and knock my own against the sidewall while my team scrimmages. Luckily, the rib pain is nearly healed thanks to Len. The trainer should okay me to come back to practice in a couple of days. If they don’t, I’ll revolt.
Adam skates up to the bench and stops quick, sending ice shards flying my way. “Dick.” I give him the universal sign for what I think of that move, and he laughs it off before throwing his legs over the wall during a line change.
He takes off his helmet and shakes his head, his sweaty hair moving with his momentum. “You seem pissed.”
“Just want to get back out there,” I answer, staring longingly at my teammate handling the puck.
He shrugs. “That’s not all.”
Not this again . I shouldn’t have told Adam what I think of Mr. Super Editor Douchebag because the asshole keeps bringing it up. “Listen, I’m fine.”
His gaze bores into the side of my face, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking up at him because ‘I’m fine’ is an utter lie. It’s Adam’s fault. He texted the team group chat almost a week ago with a pic of Clark and Len at the coffee shop. Before she even got home, I knew she’d gone on her first date with Clark. I also knew that he’d made fun of her for what she looked like at the game.
Adam putting Clark on blast in the group chat was like hanging up a wanted poster with his face on it. The team and I are watching him very closely.
Len endeared herself to my teammates when she was such a good sport at the last game alongside my parents. They took to her immediately. Like big brothers, response after response to Adam’s callout were all colorful ways to say they’d kick his ass.
We don’t play around when it comes to one of our own.
“You should talk to her.”
“I can’t butt into her life like that.” No one on the team knows that I’m her dating coach. I practically pushed her to get the guy. Hell, I’m the one who told her to ask him out, to flirt. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure she had it in her. I thought she’d figure this guy out before it got this far.
Now, how am I supposed to tell her she’s making a huge mistake?
Coach blows the final whistle, and I follow the guys into the locker room after slapping their hands one by one. When Coach goes into the office, I pull a freshie aside and tell him he needs to be more aggressive. He skates like a dream in practice, but he’s tentative during games, and he’s not getting many minutes because of it. If he wants to play more, he needs to impress Coach when it counts.
He nods, slapping my shoulder. When I turn, Adam’s in a hushed conversation with Jonesy, a sophomore. He sees me heading back over, and he turns Jonesy’s shoulders to face me.
“Oh, hey,” Jonesy says, shifting on his feet.
Adam smirks, shucking off his gear before leaving for the showers.
“’Sup?” I ask, getting my bag out of the locker.
“A few of the guys and I were wondering about Len…”
“What about her?” I shut the door a bit too hard.
He stares at it, and Adam’s voice comes wafting toward us from God knows where, like he’s narrating this from some unseen place. “Say it.”
Jonesy sighs. “A few of us were wondering if she’s available?”
“Excuse me?”
He wipes his hands down the pads at his thighs. “We weren’t sure if you were interested. She was sitting with your family in the stands and she’s your roommate, yet she’s dating this other guy. We don’t want to step on toes, but we could give her some other options to get this douche away from her.”
I blink, suddenly wishing I was suited up because I’d check this guy into the lockers for even thinking about Len that way. “You want to date her?”
“She’s got this sexy librarian thing going on.”
I look around, noticing some of the other guys are peering our way. I swear to God, they’re like vultures. “She’s off-limits,” I snap before I even realize what I’m saying.
He brings his hands up in front of his chest. “Okay. We’re cool. We just wanted to know.”
He walks away, and I stare at the ground. Len would kill me if she knew I did that. Jonesy will put the word out that she’s mine, and it’ll only take a few minutes for this to travel through the whole team. If they were protective over her before, they’ll be doubly so now.
She’s off-limits.
I don’t know what came over me. I grab my bag and turn toward the exit, my mind a whir of so many things. I had no grounds to claim her at all, but for some reason, it feels more than right.
Fuck. How did this happen? I meander in the direction of Knightley, not sure what to do about Len. As observant as she is, she’ll know the guys are acting differently toward her. A couple of days ago, she mentioned they were extremely nice to her, initiating conversation and greeting her in the hallway. One of them might even say something about this to her now.
Shit .
I march up Knightley’s steps, stomach flipping. Fishing out my key, I place it in the lock and twist once I get to our suite but realize it’s already open. I enter and hear a giggle. For a moment, I smile, thinking Len is up to something, but when I close the door behind me and walk down the hall, she jumps up from the couch and smooths her shirt.
The tool is with her, and the smile drops off my face.
I glare at him as he fixes his glasses. “Hey,” I say.
“Hey. We were…” She trails off, red rushing to her cheeks.
Clark elbows her, and I want to knee him in the crotch. How dare he? I don’t care if she were to say they were getting busy on the couch, you don’t shut her up like she’s a child.
I take a deep breath and give her a smile. “It’s okay.”
“I should go,” Clark states.
Yes, you fucking should. It would be polite to leave the room, but I stand my ground.
He grabs her hand. “Gotta get ready for tonight.”
My gaze zeros in on their interlaced fingers. “What’s tonight?”
“Clark and I are going out to celebrate my article.”
I peer up at her, taking her in. She’s beaming, and jealousy ricochets through me. “Where to?”
“Bubbles.”
I lift my brows. A nightclub doesn’t sound like a place either of them would go, but okay. Every so often, they have a special night when they pump in bubbles from the ceiling. Trish and I went before. It was a blast—or so I thought at the time. “Cool.”
“You should come,” she says, gaze lighting up.
Clark gives her a look. I wasn’t going to turn her down at all, but now I’m going to make him pay. “That’s awesome. I would love to. I did read your final draft, after all.”
She grins, pushing my shoulder. “Catches one missed period and this guy thinks he should get a byline.”
“It was a crucial period.”
She shakes her head, and the way she laughs does something to me that I can’t explain.
Clark clears his throat.
What kind of motherfucker clears his throat like that?
“I’m going to take off.” He glances my way. “Other people are going tonight, so, unfortunately, there’s no room for you in the car. You’ll have to find your own ride.”
“No problem. I got a car.” My smile stretches so tight it could crack at any moment.
Without warning, Clark swoops down and kisses Len on the cheek. I watch it all, wanting to rip him away from her. I’m beyond telling myself it’s because he’s a jerk to her. These feelings came on gradually, then all at once, nearly plowing me over. She’s smart and funny, and no matter how many times I try to talk myself out of it, I’m still going to feel this way.
I move next to her while he strides down the hallway. He turns at the last second, and I’m right there, taking his spot. For good measure, I put my arm around her. His smile falters, and he quickly closes the door behind himself.
“Sorry. He was kind of rude.”
“He probably feels threatened.”
“Yeah, okay,” she says doubtfully, taking her glasses off to stare at the lenses and then putting them back on.
“I mean, you live with me.”
She turns to face me, and my arm drops off her shoulders. “You, sir, live with me,” she says, pointing first to my chest, then to hers. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Oh, is that how it is?”
“That’s how it is.”
She walks over and sits on the couch, and I follow. She bites her lip, and the empty stare she gives the wall prompting me to move closer. She jostles toward me, our shoulders touching. “What’s wrong?”
Leaning into me, she sighs. “I don’t know.”
My immediate instinct is to ask her what that asshole did, but I fight it back. “You can talk to me. We’re friends, you know.”
“I know.” She drums her fingertips over her skin. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
The heat of her body beckons me, so I lean into her. “Tell me. I am your dating guru. Life coach.”
“Life coach? Now you’re just tossing out job titles.”
“Possibly, but if this is about Clark, I can help.” Help throw him under the bus.
This close, it’s hard to battle back the thoughts I’ve been having about her. I rub my thumb against her thigh.
“Well, we…” She squirms before finally blowing out a breath. “We kissed today.”
Silence fills the space between us. My stomach squeezes, even though I kind of figured that’s what was going on when I walked in, but to have her verify it impacts me more than I thought. Before I can say anything, she blurts out, “I’m not sure I liked it. I’m not sure I did it right. I’m not sure I actually felt something.”
Relief fills me. Call me a terrible person, but I feel it all the way to my toes. I can work with this. “Maybe he’s a bad kisser?”
“Maybe?”
I turn toward her, propping my knee on the couch. “A first kiss can be awkward. Maybe it was the newness.”
“Maybe. Have you ever had disappointing first kisses?”
My gaze inadvertently drops to her lips. “Not since I knew what I was doing.”
She frowns. “Of course you haven’t. I shouldn’t have asked you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, look at you.” She waves in my direction. “You ooze testosterone. You sweep a girl off her feet, lay one on her, and steal her soul.”
“Wait, how did I become a soul stealer? That sounds bad.”
She shakes her head. “It’s the opposite.” Peering away, her eyes dance. “It’s when it’s so good it hurts.”
I reach for her.
She jumps up from her seat, backing away. Her cheeks blaze red.
“You think I kiss like that?”
“I’m a writer. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
I rise to my feet and grab her hand before she can turn away. “Len, you deserve to be kissed like that.” I can picture doing it now, swooping in and claiming a little piece of her for my own, but I want her to want it, too. I want this guy to be only a memory before I make my move. “So, if you’re not feeling it with Clark, maybe that means something?”
“Maybe…”
She tightens her grip on my hand, and the connection between us sparks like live wires. Possessiveness takes over—the same kind that overtook me when Jonesy asked if Len was available. I want her to forget all about Clark, especially with the way she’s staring up at me.
A second later, she swallows, extracting her fingers from my own. “Um, will I see you tonight?”
She avoids my gaze, and I don’t like it. “Bubbles. What time?”
“Eight.”
“Maybe.”
“It would be cool if you came.”
Yeah, cool to have me sitting there, watching them make eyes at each other, knowing there’s no chemistry. God forbid they kiss in front of me.
I tell her I’m going to lie down for a little while before I do something stupid like ask her to drop Clark so she and I can go to Bubbles tonight alone. I’d give her the best damn first date she’s ever had and the kiss she deserves.
Blinking, I yawn and stare at the ceiling for a second before I reach for my phone, turning the screen toward me. Shit . It’s already eight p.m. All I wanted was to lie down to think about things, and I ended up conking out for a few hours.
I grab my phone and text Adam.
Want to go to Bubbles?
Sure, man.
Be ready in thirty.
I don’t wait for him to respond. I jump in the shower to rinse and am brushing my teeth when he texts back that he’ll be ready. I put on some cologne, find my outfit, and style my hair with the clay stuff my sister bought me.
When I open my door, a white flutter moves in front of me, and then a piece of paper slides onto the floor. I pick it up reading:
Don’t forget about Bubbles. Hope to see you there.
She has such pretty handwriting. I find myself tracing the swoopy lines with my fingers. There’s no way I wouldn’t go now.
Within the next fifteen minutes, Adam’s in my car playing DJ as we drive out to Longville, the same town the hockey arena is in, and he’s peppering me with questions about Len. “So let me get this straight,” he says, “this asshole clearly doesn’t want you to go, but you’re going anyway?”
“That’s about it.”
“Well played.”
“You should’ve seen the look he gave her.”
“Ha. Bro is worried.” He taps the dash. “He should be. You got the whole hockey team thinking she’s yours already. They won’t even breathe in her direction now.”
“Don’t think I don’t know you set that whole thing up. Jackass.”
He gives me a grin. “You needed a push.”
“You told me she was going to be a stalker.” I park the car on a side street and feed the meter.
Adam meets me at the front of the car. “That was before I saw how awesome she was.” He looks like he’s going to say more but gets caught up in staring at a cluster of girls ahead of us as we walk toward Bubbles. The hem of their dresses barely covers their asses. I doubt Len owns an outfit like that, but I’d love to see her in one…privately. Maybe I can convince her to start wearing sweats again so her body can be a treasure just for me.
I elbow Adam, who hasn’t taken his gaze off the girls in front of us. “Make sure you keep your phone on.”
“Oh, I’m sticking by you,” he says. “I need to see how this plays out.”
We pay at the door, and the bass of the blaring house music reverberates through my chest as I step inside. Adam follows. “We’ll have a hell of a time finding her.”
The place is set up with a bar on one side and the dance floor in the middle with seating on the opposite side. Big columns slice up the floor, holding up the second level where more people dance, some leaning over the railing with drinks in their hands, staring at the crowd below.
I peer to the right and spot Len against a wall, a drink in her hand, head bobbing to the music while Clark leans against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets. They’d barely made it inside.
“Found her.”
“Huh?”
I point toward Len, and Adam pushes me that way. My gaze travels down the length of her, and I nearly stumble over my feet. A form-fitting sequin dress hugs her in all the right ways, the strobe lights reflecting off its iridescent shine. That definitely wasn’t in her closet before.
She looks fucking fantastic.
I move in front of them, and Clark sees me first. If it’s possible, his face gets even more sour.
“Hey!” Len says, throwing her arms around me.
I squeeze her, closing my eyes as I do. She backs away. “Mmm, you smell good.”
I cock my head, taking her in. Her unfocused eyes and the way she laughs staring into her drink give her away.
Oh, here we go. “Been drinking a little, have you?”
She lifts her shoulders, but it’s an exaggerated motion, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Hey, this is Adam.”
“Hey, Adam. I know you.” She opens her arms, and the fucker smirks at me as he hugs her. He’ll pay for that in practice once I get my ass back out on the ice.
“This is Clark,” Len announces. “He’s the editor for the newspaper.”
I grin, noticing she didn’t introduce him as her boyfriend or her date.
“Hey, Clark.” Adam shakes his hand, and I have to hide a snicker when Clark’s eyes widen. The big lug is squeezing the hell out of him.
“We should get a seat,” I say. “No sense in being wallflowers.”
“Clark said they were all gross.”
“Well, that’s half the fun.” Turning, I roll my eyes. Too gross to sit? Why’d they even come? On the way to the seating area, I grab a waitress and motion toward a free booth that will fit all of us. “Can we spray this down?”
“Sure thing, handsome.”
She wipes both the table and the booth, then stands there as we sit. “Can I get a drink order?”
“Beer for me. Whatever you got on tap.”
“Same,” Adam says.
“I’ll have another one of these,” Len says, pointing to her cup.
“Is that the Bubble special?”
“I think so.”
Clark asks for a rum and coke.
When she walks away, I wrap my arm around the back of the half-circle booth that happens to also go around Len. “Have you guys danced?”
Len slurps up the rest of her drink. “Nope.”
Let me guess, the floor is unsanitary, too?
“Where are your friends?”
“No one else could make it,” Clark answers.
Yeah, I bet. If there ever was anyone else going.
“Have they dropped the first Bubbles yet?”
“Nope,” Len says, and I swear to God, she’s so cute like this. Unreserved. “I can’t wait, though.”
“They’ll set off a siren when they do,” I tell her.
“Huh?” She points to her ear when the music picks up.
I lean into her. “They’ll set off a siren when they do.”
Her eyes light up, but then the waitress comes over to drop off our drinks. Adam immediately starts flirting and has the girl blushing as I give her my card.
“I got it,” Clark says.
I hold up a hand. “No biggie. You can get the next round.”
He sits back in his seat looking even more pissy than when we showed up. Len turns toward me and drunk-whispers, “I don’t think he’s having a good time.”
I lean over and say into her ear, “Maybe because he has a giant stick up his ass.”
“Huh?”
I smile. “Maybe it’s not his scene.”
“He won’t dance.”
Well, fuck that. I’ll dance with her. As if on cue, the siren sounds. I sit back and wait for Clark to ask her, but when he doesn’t move, I speak up. “Come on, fancy reporter. You have to get the full experience.”
“Yeah?” She turns toward Clark. “Do you mind?”
“What?”
“I’m going to dance with Zaiah, unless you want to?”
I swallow. “Come on, we’re going to miss it.”
Without giving him a chance to answer, I step around Adam and hold out my hand. She fits hers in mine, and I pull her to a spot on the floor as the bubbles start to drop.
She looks up, the bubbles falling all around us, the strobe lighting them up like a kaleidoscope. Holding her hands out, she turns them toward the ceiling.
For fuck’s sake… She’s beautiful. How could I have looked past her before?
I’m the biggest walking cliché in the world.
“You ready?” I ask her.
“Hmm?”
I step in close, wrapping my arms around her. “Let’s dance, Lenore.”
My hips take over, moving to the hard beats of Taylor Swift’s “Are You Ready For It?”