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Tied Up in You

Page 8

by Erin Fletcher


  Troy rolled his eyes at me before getting up and snatching the cup out of Matthews’s hand. “Fine, but only because I’m thirsty, too. Can I get you two anything?” he asked Lia and me.

  We both told him we were okay.

  “Be right back,” he said. “Don’t let them skip my turn.”

  Once he was out of earshot, Lia leaned closer to me. “Oh my gosh, you two would be perfect together.”

  I glanced back at Troy, but tried to hide it in case he was looking. I realized that, for the first time since the kiss, I wasn’t thinking about Jackson. That had to say something about Troy, right? “You think?”

  “Yes! You’re both into the same things and he seems really nice, and…” She surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder, too. “He’s cute, don’t you think?”

  To be honest, I hadn’t really noticed or thought about it. He looked…well, he looked like most of the guys on the NTDP team. Which meant he looked like Jackson—pale, tall, muscular from endless hockey drills. But he did have that grin with those perfect teeth. And it was adorable the way he lit up when he was talking about STEM stuff…

  “Yeah,” I finally said. “He is.”

  Lia smiled. “I thought so. Okay. Go with me on this. I’m going to make sure you guys get some time alone to talk, okay? Or…whatever else you want to do alone.”

  “Stop,” I said, swatting at her with my cards, but she just laughed.

  At that moment, Troy returned, several cups in his hands. He passed them around the table and returned to his seat. “What did I miss?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Lia said quickly. Too quickly.

  Then she winked so only I could see it.

  Alone with Troy. Was that something I wanted? I guessed I was about to find out.

  It turned out Lia’s plan was easier in theory than in practice, and the reason was my best friend. Once Jackson finished his game with Pierce, he returned and became weirdly clingy. Like as much as Lia wanted Troy and me to be alone, that was exactly how much Jackson didn’t want to let me out of his sight. That was how we ended up spending a lot of the time at the party as a group of five—me, Jackson, Troy, Lia, and Pierce—with occasional other teammates and friends coming in and out as the night went on.

  It was fun. I hadn’t relaxed or laughed this much in a long time. Jackson was right. A night off was exactly what I needed. It was clear all of the guys needed a night off, too. The bonding they’d done on the ice carried over to the party, and they laughed and shared inside jokes and let loose, with Pierce at the center of attention, and Jackson a pretty close second by association.

  “Hey, Pierce, Jackson,” Lia said over the music. “Some of the guys need help moving the furniture in the bonus room. Can you two help?”

  It was so obvious the way she said it—you two. Not including Troy. Giving him the opportunity to stay behind with me. Thankfully, she’d played right into both Pierce’s and Jackson’s hands. “Which wimps can’t move the furniture by themselves?” Jackson asked.

  “Ones who need us to bring in the big guns,” Pierce said, standing and motioning for Jackson to follow him.

  Jackson stood, but then looked back at me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, probably too quickly. “I’ll be right here.”

  Jackson gave one last look at Troy before walking away.

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” I called. They would never hear the end of it from their coach if one of them broke their foot by dropping a couch on it or something.

  Troy took this opportunity to sit next to me on the couch in the place Jackson had vacated. He smelled good, like some kind of body spray that I could really get used to.

  “I’m glad they’re doing that,” he said. “Practices lately have been brutal. I’m sore. I don’t know how they aren’t.”

  “They’ve had one more year than you to get used to being on the team and the practices that go with it.”

  “True.”

  “Did you not try for the team last year?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I thought I was going to be happy playing for my high school, playing for a college, but then I watched their undefeated season last year and saw all of the interest they were getting from the scouts—especially Pierce—and I felt like I was missing out on something. Like I should try it, too. So I did, and I made it. I don’t get to play nearly as much as I did on my high school team, but it’s worth it. I love this team.”

  “Except for the soreness from practices,” I said.

  He laughed and rolled his shoulders. “Except that.”

  “But you don’t have any time to do STEM stuff? Your invention was pretty great.” Did I sound too overenthusiastic and fangirl-ish? I was so bad at this kind of thing.

  He shrugged. “I dabble in stuff when we’re not on the road. When I have time. But I also know this is my season to play hockey. I won’t be able to play forever. Maybe no NHL teams or colleges will want me. Maybe I’ll get hurt and won’t be able to play anymore. Then I’ll have all the time in the world to invent stuff. I have to go with this while I can.”

  “You’re smart,” I said.

  “Yeah, well you’re smart and pretty,” he said back.

  I fought back a cringe, torn between being flattered and appalled by his poor flirting skills. That’s what he was doing, or what he thought he was doing, right? Flirting? “Thanks,” I said, and picked at a loose thread on the arm of the couch.

  “Hey, do you want to go out with me sometime?”

  The thread slipped between my fingers. Terrible flirting? Okay. Getting to know each other there? Okay. But a date? “I…” I automatically reached for an excuse. I didn’t date much. After watching Jackson go through what he went through, the last thing I wanted was to be one of those girls. He dated enough for both of us. Plus about seven more people.

  But then there was Jackson. Maybe the best way to get my mind off him and the kiss was to go out with someone else. Troy and I would have plenty to talk about. He seemed nice. One date couldn’t hurt anything, could it? I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I said. “That sounds good.”

  He grinned. “Perfect. Dinner?”

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jackson

  “What are they doing?” I asked, peering around the corner to try to see Troy and Malina.

  “Ouch,” Pierce said when my distraction caused the couch we were carrying to bang against his leg. “Pay attention!”

  “Sorry,” I said, hoisting the couch up higher again. We were moving it to the hall so the room it had been in could be used for some kind of human Hungry Hungry Hippos game. When it came to my teammates, there were just some things I didn’t ask about. But Troy was not one of those things. Not when Malina was involved. “But really. What’s Troy doing with Malina?”

  “Why do you care?” Lia asked. “Troy’s a good guy, and it’s not like you’re trying to date her.”

  I tried not to scowl as we squeezed through the doorframe. She was right. At least I thought so. Was she right? “So this furniture-moving adventure was your plan to get the two of them alone?”

  “Nope,” Lia said innocently. “I didn’t have anything to do with Hungry Hungry Hippos.”

  “Let’s set it down,” Pierce said. “And also, Lia is a terrible liar.”

  “Hey,” she said, slipping herself under his now-free arm. “Need I remind you that I hid my true identity from you for weeks when we first met?”

  Using their distraction to my advantage, I slipped away, more than ready to head back to Malina.

  “Jackson,” Lia said before I could get very far.

  Reluctantly, I turned back to her. “Yeah?”

  “He’s a nice guy. She’s a nice girl. They have a lot in common. I don’t know why you seem not cool with this, but be cool, okay?”

  “Cool,” I echoed. “Yeah. Okay.” I could do that. Maybe.

  When I got back to Malina and Troy, she was laugh
ing over something he’d said. People saw red when they got angry. Did they see green when they got jealous? If so, things were starting to look a little lime-like. There was a tiny bit of space between them, but not enough for me to slip into and sit without looking like a complete douche. I settled for sitting on the edge of the couch, to Malina’s left. We’d been there a while, but I could still smell the mango scent of her hair.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Troy,” Malina said. “You didn’t tell me he was funny.”

  “Hey,” I said, wanting to send the conversation in a different direction, wanting to move Malina away from this couch to a place where the space between her and Troy was bigger. “Want to go watch human Hungry Hungry Hippos? It sounds ridiculous.”

  “Watch?” Troy said, jumping to his feet. “I want to play! Come on, Malina. Cheer me on?”

  Clearly I should have been more specific about only inviting Malina.

  “Sure,” she said, getting to her feet and following Troy before I could stop her. I sighed and followed, feeling not only like a loser, but also a jerk.

  Human Hungry Hungry Hippos, it turned out, involved those four-wheeled seated scooters from elementary school and most of the balls from the ball pit in Matthews’s little sister’s princess castle. It was actually funny to watch, but instead of playing, I chose to stay behind with Malina, who seemed to only have eyes for Troy.

  Once the games were over and the couch had been returned to its rightful place, I glanced at the clock on my phone. I needed to get Malina home soon if I wanted to stay in her parents’ good graces. Which I did.

  “Ready to get going?” I asked, leaning close both so that Malina could hear me over the music and so Troy couldn’t hear me over the music.

  Malina pressed the home button on her phone and nodded when she saw the time. She leaned over to Troy and motioned toward me with one hand. “I gotta go. Curfew.”

  Troy frowned, but nodded. When he stood, it was his turn to say something to Malina that I couldn’t hear. I wasn’t a fan of when the tables were turned. But then he turned to me.

  “Jackson, good to see you. Thanks for introducing me to Malina.”

  He reached out for a first bump, but it wasn’t really his knuckles I wanted to punch.

  Malina gave him a little wave, and then we grabbed our coats and headed out of the party into the cold, quiet night air.

  “That was nice,” Malina said as she wrapped her thick winter coat tighter around her against the wind. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  I knew I should have said, “You’re welcome,” but my brain wasn’t into “should”s at that moment. “What’s up with you and Troy?” I asked before we even reached the car.

  Malina glanced over at me, eyebrows raised.

  Okay, maybe my tone was a little more…intense than it needed to be for that question.

  We got in the car. She buckled her seat belt before saying anything.

  “He’s nice,” she said. “We have a lot in common.”

  I pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. “And?”

  “And?” she asked. “And what?”

  “And is something going to happen between you two?”

  It took a long time before she said anything. Too long. Each second and each streetlight that ticked by was too much.

  Finally, she turned in her seat toward me. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair. “Have I ever once given you crap about any of the girls you’ve hung out with?”

  This tone wasn’t one I heard from her often. Malina was usually so calm, so even-tempered. This wasn’t usually. The fact that she was both angry and correct made me cringe. There had been a lot of girls. And she hadn’t given me crap about any of them. “No,” I said, glancing over her shoulder toward my blind spot as I switched lanes.

  “Exactly. But you’re giving me crap about the one guy I want to go out with, who happens to be your friend?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “Is he a murderer? Is he going to drug me and date rape me? Does he have some kind of weird fetish I should know about?”

  As much as I wanted to say “yes” to all three of those, I couldn’t. Troy was a good guy. Not good for her, but still. “No. He’s fine.”

  “Then I don’t see what the problem is. The only other reason I can think that you wouldn’t want me to go out with him would be if you wanted to go out with me instead. But that’s not right. You don’t want to go out with me.”

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. It was a statement, but I wanted it to be a question. I wanted to disagree. I wanted to lean over and kiss her again and make her forget all about Troy. But I couldn’t.

  Instead, I blurted out, “He snores. A lot. And he gets toothpaste all over the sink and he wears socks to bed and consistently sleeps through his alarm.”

  Even though I was looking out the windshield, not at Malina, I could feel her staring, eyes burning holes right through me. It was too late to take the words back, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to. I was such an idiot.

  “Okay,” she said, slowly. “I don’t think any of those things are going to be a problem on the first date, but I will take them under advisement.”

  “Good.”

  “And maybe you shouldn’t room with him while traveling anymore.”

  That list wasn’t even that bad. All of us on the team had quirks and habits that could drive everyone else crazy. That was why we switched up roommates all the time. Yeah, it was so we’d get to know one another, but it was also so we didn’t kill one another over who kept the hotel room too hot or too cold, sang terribly in the shower, or left smelly hockey socks all over the floor.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  I turned onto her street, and we fell into silence for a little while.

  “Tonight was fun,” she finally said after a sigh. “Human Hungry Hungry Hippos was kind of brilliant. I needed a night to laugh like that.”

  Crap. This really was my fault. Not only did the party introduce her to Troy, but it probably also made her realize how much she needed another night out, like a date with him. “Glad you had a good time,” I said, wondering if my tone gave away how I really felt. I pulled into her driveway. A couple of lights were still on in the house. “Are your parents waiting up for you?”

  Malina studied the house. “It’s probably Tutu. She’s a night owl.”

  “Tell her I said good night.”

  “I will. Thanks again for the ride and the invite.”

  Get out of the car. Walk her to the door. Kiss her like you want to. “You’re welcome. Good night.” Or just sit here like a complete and utter failure.

  Malina quietly closed the car door and walked toward the porch. I leaned my head on the steering wheel and wondered how tonight had gone quite so terribly.

  Then I got an idea. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened a new text message to Troy.

  Me: Are you going out with Malina?

  The ellipses that showed he was typing appeared almost immediately.

  Troy: Yeah. Dinner sometime while we’re in town. That cool?

  “Cool” wasn’t the word I’d use. The thought of him picking her up, taking her to a restaurant, telling her all about his stupid STEM invention that I knew absolutely nothing about, then dropping her off and kissing her, putting his hands all over her…

  Nope.

  No way.

  He wanted to go out with her?

  Fine.

  But I was going, too.

  Me: Let’s double date.

  Not a question. No opportunity for him to say no.

  Troy: Sounds good.

  Troy: Who are you going to bring?

  Me: Someone from school. Krista.

  Had I asked Krista out yet? No. But would she say yes? Probably. The only reason I hadn’t gone out with her before was because I’d dated her best friend, and it hadn’t ended well—I’d gotten over her a little quicker than she’d gotten over me
. All of my attempts to casually flirt with Krista since then had been shot down. But that was sophomore year. Her friend was dating someone else, and they looked to be one of those “start dating in high school and eventually get married” kind of couples. We’d all changed since sophomore year. Krista would probably be willing to go out with me now. I’d make it clear I only wanted something casual. Just a fun night out. I’d treat her well. Buy her dinner. And I’d get to keep an eye on Malina and Troy the whole time.

  Troy: Cool. I’ll let you know the plan.

  Me: Thanks.

  Then I switched out of my text messages and into a social media app where I knew I followed Krista. I opened a new message in the app.

  Me: Hey. Looking for someone to go on a double date with me. Interested?

  Even though she wasn’t the person I really wanted to be asking out, I still held my breath while waiting for her response. After all, getting shot down was getting shot down, no matter the reason for asking someone out. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Krista: Random…but sure. Fill me in at school Monday?

  I said I would and threw my phone on the passenger seat before backing out of Malina’s driveway.

  Was I being a jerk? Probably. Selfish? Absolutely.

  But right at that moment, I cared about Malina more than any of that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Malina

  “So, how far are you going to go tonight?” Izzy asked. “First base? Second? Fifth?”

  I was sitting on the couch next to Izzy, scrolling through Instagram so I’d have something to do with my hands. “Pretty sure there are only four bases. Or three, plus home.”

  “Oh, right. Of course guys would choose an analogy with only three steps before sex. Girls have at least five.” She looked up at the ceiling and counted off on her fingers, doing some kind of math. “No, six. And we especially enjoy number three.”

  I refrained from asking for clarification. “Whatever you say. Does that mean things are going well with Kylie?”

 

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