Secret Puck (Campus Nights Book 1)

by Rebecca Jenshak

  12

  Heath

  September

  Ginny takes the seat across from me with her bowl of ice cream. “I’m ready for fall. My boobs are sweaty just from walking across the street.”

  “I totally get it,” Mav says. “My balls—”

  “All right. Too much information, man,” I tell him.

  “I don’t see how it’s any different than Ginny’s boobs.” Mav shrugs and goes back to his homework laid out on the table in front of him.

  “Boobs, Mav. It’s different because boobs.”

  Ginny giggles, not the least bit offended by my buddy or me and slides the bowl along the top of the table to me without asking if I want any. The chemistry between Ginny and I is hard to ignore. I thought friend-zoning myself would take away the tension, but even when she says things like sweaty boobs, I find I’m wishing the clock would move a little slower so we could spend more time together.

  There are too many complications. For one, I don’t need the team captain having it out for me. And then there’s the fact that I don’t want to stop hanging out with Ginny. If that means being friends instead of kissing her so I don’t screw things up, then so be it. Better friends than nothing at all.

  I smile as I stare down at her bowl of ice cream. She never gets gummy bears on top anymore. I don’t know if she really believes it was their fault she admitted I was hot and let me kiss her or not, but the loss of them makes me a little sad. Hard, awful little things.

  I take a small bite and push it back.

  “That’s all you’re eating?”

  “Gotta get the season diet back on track. We’re taking the ice today.”

  I can barely keep from jumping out of my skin I want to be out there so badly.

  Mav looks up and nods, but then groans. “It’s going to be short-lived for me if I fail this British literature test.” He hits his head on his book several times and then sits up and closes it. He barely scraped by with grades good enough to play last year and Coach is watching him closely. “You still have Tonya’s number? I think she tutors.”

  “Uhh… yeah, maybe.” I pull my phone up and find her and hand the phone to Maverick. “I wouldn’t tell her you got her number from me though, she’s not my biggest fan.”

  “Did she tutor you?” Ginny asks.

  “No, she did not.” What we had was much more honest—a quickie in a bathroom at a party last year. She wanted to continue the fun and I didn’t.

  “Maybe I can help,” Ginny says. “I love literature.”

  “Really?” Mav looks hopeful.

  “Sure. Tonight?”

  While they make plans, I sit back and watch Ginny. She’s nice, interesting, funny, and a little naïve. But naïve in that way that she still believes in the good of people and situations, and being around her makes me believe a little more too. There isn’t anything I don’t like about her. Every little detail. It’s safe to say Ginny Scott’s grown on me just like Neapolitan ice cream.

  I look forward to our meals together. She’s never mentioned the gummy bear induced illicit kiss, and neither have I, but we both show up at the same time for breakfast and lunch every day to eat together. Sometimes Maverick and the guys are with us, sometimes not, but the two of us never miss.

  Lunch friends. I can think of worse things to be. I can think of better things, too.

  After lunch, I head to the rink for practice. I’m early, but I can’t wait another minute to get out on the ice. The weeks of preseason workouts on the football field are hot and grueling, but I’d do it three times a day if it meant stepping on the ice sooner.

  Adam’s in the locker room already dressed when I walk in.

  “Hey,” he says when he sees me. “Couldn’t wait either?”

  “I barely slept last night,” I admit.

  He chuckles and heads toward the door. “Guess it’ll be easy to stop you from scoring today.”

  “You wish,” I call after him.

  As I walk to the ice, I feel a sense of peace and an unbridled excitement. One month without skating and I feel like I’m regaining a limb. I respect Coach’s idea that a month of practice on the turf learning to work as a team makes us stronger before we step out onto the ice, but man, how I’ve missed it.

  I breathe in the cool air as my skates glide over the fresh ice. I nod to Adam, who’s skating with that same look of joy on his face. We skate in silence for a few minutes before he juts his chin for me to join him. We take turns passing and shooting. I’m sweaty and breathless but in the best way.

  When the rest of the team arrives, Coach Meyers and Coach Kelley start us with speed drills and then some power play scenarios.

  My heart races and adrenaline courses through me as I skate hard.

  “Move your feet,” Coach Meyers bellows from his spot in the opposing side fan section. “There you go. Nice.”

  “I’m gonna puke,” Maverick says on a raspy breath as I fall back into line.

  “How are you out of shape? We spent the last month running our asses off.”

  “Can’t run this sweet ass off,” he says straight-faced. “Beautiful genetics, but not great for speed.”

  I laugh. “You’re blaming your ass for being slow? Really?”

  He smirks and takes off as Coach blows the whistle for the next person to go.

  Practice goes by entirely too fast. The girls’ team practices in thirty minutes, so I can’t even linger like I want to.

  Not everyone is so sad to be done.

  Jordan’s face is red and splotchy and he mutters, “Oh thank god. I was burping ham and cheese. I swear it was coming up in the next five minutes.”

  I’m the last one off the ice. Adam notices and laughs at what I’m guessing is close to a pout on my face. I’m totally not beyond kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum if I thought it’d work instead of Coach Meyers making me run laps around the football field.

  “Come on, Payne, I’ll buy you a beer.”

  At The Hideout, Adam pays for two pitchers and sets it down on the table before handing out glasses.

  Mav’s filled his glass and taken a long drink before the pitcher even makes its way to me. “Dude, maybe it’s the beer gut and not your ass that’s the problem.”

  He flips me off, continues drinking and then says, “Hey man, how much do you think Coach Meyer will pay you to babysit Liam and Jordan this year? Minimum wage?”

  I grimace and he laughs, knowing he’s hit a sore spot. Coach had me on a line with two freshmen forwards today, both need a lot of work.

  “It’s going to be a great season,” Adam insists, always wearing his captain hat. “Frozen four this year. Last chance to secure my legacy as a frozen four champ before graduation.”

  I lift my glass.

  Ginny is waiting at the apartment when we get back.

  “What are you doing here?” Adam asks and takes a seat on the couch next to her.

  “Maverick and I are studying Shakespeare.”

  Adam looks to Mav. “You know, you don’t live here, man.”

  “I ordered pizzas,” he says, standing in the doorway. “Gotta take Charli out. Back in five.”

  When he’s gone, Ginny looks from Adam to me. “How was it being back on the ice?”

  “Amazing,” we say in unison.

  Ginny giggles.

  “I’m going to shower,” Adam says, standing and pulling off his shirt. “Save me some thin crust.”

  “Come keep me company while Mav is gone.” I motion for Ginny to follow me back to my room and she does.

  She walks in and scans the room before taking a seat on the bed, feet dangling off the side. I drop my bag and then pull out a pair of basketball shorts and T-shirt. I take off the shirt I’m wearing and toss it in the hamper without thinking about it. Ginny’s eyes are fixed on my chest. I wait for her to catch herself, but she’s full-on checking me out.

  “Hey, friend?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Eyes are up here,” I sa
y with a wink.

  She rolls her brown eyes, but then they land back on my bare upper body. “You’re seriously cut. Maybe I should give up ice cream.”

  “Don’t you dare. You’re perfect.”

  Charli zips into my room, jumps onto the bed, and covers Ginny with slobbery kisses. She smiles and leans away but pets her behind the ears.

  “Down, Charli.”

  Mav appears in the doorway and Charli goes to his side. “Ready, Ginny?”

  “Yeah.” She scoots off the bed. “See you out there?”

  I nod and watch my friend and the object of my fascination walk out of my room. I might need a shower and some Mariah first.

  13

  Ginny

  The following night Reagan’s sitting at her vanity with the laptop open in front of her while I stand off to the side doing her makeup.

  “I can’t believe how much it looks like the girl on the video. I swear I’ve tried a few of these and it never looks anything like it’s supposed to.”

  “Ava’s been letting me practice on her.” I glance at the girl on the screen and back to Reagan. “The winged eye looks really good on you.”

  Putting makeup on Reagan is fun. She’s so naturally beautiful I probably couldn’t make her look bad if I tried, but she’s right, I managed to get it pretty close to the girl on camera.

  “You’re hired. Someday when I’m a big well-known actress, I’m going to force you to do my makeup every day. In fact, I wish you could do my makeup for the winter play.”

  Reagan is a theater major, and according to Dakota, she kicks ass in the school plays.

  “Doesn’t the department hire someone to do makeup for the performances?”

  “Yes. The previous stage director’s mother, Ms. Morrison. She’s lovely and nice and has been doing makeup for the university performances for something like twenty years, but last spring she had me looking like a clown. There’s stage makeup, and then, there’s straight-up too much blush.”

  I brush a little shimmer powder along her cheekbones. “Well, I’m happy to do it anytime. Seriously, doing your makeup every day is my dream job.”

  “Why aren’t you going to school to be a makeup artist?” Dakota asks from the bed. She’s lying on her side looking at her phone.

  “Unless you work in a salon or store, it’s a lot of freelance gigs like wedding days and special occasions. Plus, there’s so much pressure to get it perfect so they feel beautiful and confident.”

  “Well, I feel both right now, so I think you’d be great at it.” Reagan purses her lips and then smiles.

  “Speaking of jobs, I need to find one if I’m going to be able to move out next year. Do you guys know of anything on campus or off? I was thinking about checking local restaurants and cafés.” Rooming with Ava’s been great. We get along well, and she doesn’t have any crazy habits like leaving out old food or rummaging through my things without asking, but I don’t want to do dorm life again next year.

  “The Hall of Fame is always looking for guides,” Dakota says.

  “Guides?”

  She sits up and abandons her phone. “Yeah, we do tours for local groups like schools and other organizations, but we also get to help with recruitment. I can ask my boss if you want.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Well, I’m not going to lie, the fact that you’re Adam Scott’s little sister will probably help. My boss has a giant crush on him.”

  “What?” I ask at the same time Reagan mutters, “Who doesn’t?”

  Dakota and I look to her. “What? Come on, he’s hot. No, not only hot, he’s nice and…” She trails off. “I’m just saying, it isn’t totally ridiculous that she has a crush on him.”

  Dakota shakes her head. “Well, whatever, but every time he’s around, she gets all flustered and blushes.”

  Gross. “That’s so weird, but whatever, the job sounds fun.”

  “Great. I’m working tomorrow, so I’ll ask.”

  I get up and pull my phone out of my pocket so I can take pictures of my work. “Stand against the wall.” I point to a blank section of white wall in her room and Reagan moves in front of it. “The guy you were crushing on earlier this year, it wasn’t Adam, right?”

  “What?” Reagan freezes. “No, of course not. I only meant I could understand it.”

  “Is it Heath?” Seems like a long shot since he’s not dating anyone, but I need her to rule him out anyway. It would be too weird if she was into him.

  “Definitely no.”

  “Why ‘definitely no’? Heath is great.”

  “Rhett?” Dakota asks.

  “Would you two stop trying to guess. I’m not telling you and it doesn’t matter anyway. Every time I’m around him, I go stupid shy. I need a guy more on my level. Plus, I have a new crush and he is single and he asked for my number.”

  My phone pings as I take a few photos of Reagan’s makeup. “That’s Maverick. I’m going over to study with him again.”

  “Can you do this for my date?” Reagan makes a circle in front of her face.

  “Absolutely, but you don’t need my help to look gorgeous.” I grab my stuff and wave as I head out.

  Maverick is already at Adam’s apartment when I get there. He’s on the couch with Charli next to him. Rhett and Heath are playing video games.

  “Did I miss Adam?” I sit in the chair next to Heath.

  He bumps my shoulder. “Yeah, he left for Taryn’s a few minutes ago.”

  “Does she ever come here?”

  “Nah, not really.”

  I get up and haul my backpack to the table and pull out my laptop and a copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets I borrowed from the library. Maverick follows and takes the chair across from me. Charli lies at his feet.

  “Do you want me to take a look at your notes or should we jump into the study questions?”

  He heaves a dramatic sigh. “My notes might be shit.”

  He hands over a notebook filled with three pages of his small penmanship.

  “Did you write down everything the professor said?” I ask, baffled as I scan over them. The amount of detail he’s captured is crazy.

  “Uh, yeah. I wasn’t sure what was important and what wasn’t, so I wrote down damn near everything.”

  “I’m not sure either. Wow okay. The test is an essay?”

  “Yeah. Payne, phone’s going off in your room,” Maverick calls to him.

  Heath stands with the controller, backing out of the room. “Ah, ah, fuck. I’m cornered. Pause, one second.” He rushes into his room and out of view, but I hear him answer the phone.

  His voice lowers and softens, that tells me immediately he’s talking to a girl. A surge of white-hot jealousy heats my face. He comes back out, phone to his ear, and tosses the controller on the couch.

  “Sorry, man, gotta take this,” he says to Rhett and then disappears back into his room, shutting the door behind him.

  “So, what do you think?” Maverick asks, bringing me back to the present.

  “These notes are great.” We spend the next fifteen minutes picking out things we think he can use. Maverick is detailed and thorough in his studying. It surprises me he’s failing actually. At least until I start asking him questions about it and his attention is about as focused as Charli’s.

  “What was the question again?” he asks.

  I laugh and he gives me a sheepish grin. “I really fucking hate this class.”

  “Why are you taking it?”

  “I thought it would be an easy A. I breezed through American Literature.”

  “Okay, well, how did you study for that class?”

  “I don’t know.” He leans over and pets his dog and a smile pulls at his lips. “Heath and I read the books out loud to each other in funny accents.”

  “Heath helped you study? Did you have the class together?”

  “Not together, but we were both taking it, different professors. Most of the reading was the same though.”

  “We
re you roommates?”

  “Yeah, we lived in the dorms together last year.”

  I’m suddenly less interested in studying than I am hearing about Heath helping Maverick study. What I would give for a peek into the past of those two reading Hemingway.

  “Okay, well, we can try that.” I grab the book off the table between us. “The first five sonnets?”

  “I’ve already read them.”

  “But now that you know the form and themes, I think you’ll be able to pick them out easier. Maybe they’ll make more sense.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  I clear my throat and open it to the first page and start reading.

  As I’m finishing it and handing the book over to Maverick for a turn, Heath’s door opens and he steps out.

  “Payne! Sit your sexy ass down and read me some Shakespeare.”

  Heath takes a seat and to my surprise takes the book. “You’re reading it out loud?”

  “It helped last year. Worth a try, right?”

  Heath crosses one ankle over the other. “What do we have here?”

  “Sonnets,” Maverick says.

  A deep laugh rolls out of him as he brings the paperback up and starts reading. His voice is crisp, and the gravelly timber is easy to slip right under. His pitch varies and practically sings along the stanzas. I’m falling into it so deeply and I’m not even the one who needs to be paying attention.

  Heath looks up as he’s flipping the page and our eyes meet over the top of the book.

  “Do it in your British accent,” Maverick begs.

  Heath looks like he might object, but then Maverick sticks his bottom lip out like he’s pouting.

  Heath looks to me again quickly before he starts again. I giggle at his accent, but my stomach flips. Shakespeare will never be the same.

  As I’m packing up to leave, Maverick thanks me.

  “I’m not sure how much I actually helped, but it was fun. Do you feel good about it?”

  “Yeah, Shakespeare’s the shit.”

  I laugh.

  “Next week, then?”