by Cindi Madsen
“Very funny,” I said, adding a middle finger to the statement, and Hudson laughed.
“If you need help, or maybe advice—”
“I don’t need either, especially from you.”
“Hey, don’t knock settling down until you try it.” Hudson grinned at Whitney. “It’s way better than I ever imagined.”
“And you can do way better than Misty,” Whitney said. “I know some nice girls who—”
“What is it with couples and the need to set you up? I’m focusing on hockey this semester, and a group date—especially a pity one—is the last thing I want to suffer through.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught bright pink pants, and my focus on anything but Megan went to shit.
“Hey, Whitney.” Ryder burst into the circle we’d formed, cutting off my view. “Did you invite your coworkers from the Heights?”
“Yeah,” Whitney said.
“Well? Did any of them come?”
Whitney gestured toward the corner of the room with her cup. “Will’s over there.”
Ryder released a giant sigh and walked away without another word.
“What was that about?” Whitney asked, watching the massive dude push his way through the crowd—Ryder “Ox” Maddox was not only the youngest starter on our team, he was also the biggest. “Does he not like Will?”
I suspected it was more who he did like than not liking the British techie who worked at the school’s newspaper. I’d seen Ryder eyeing up Whitney’s editor when we burst into the newspaper office to “kidnap” Whitney, and when Lindsay threatened to call the cops, his expression held more attraction than fear. “Maybe you guys should turn your matchmaking skills on Ox.”
I didn’t want to out his crush on Lindsay, but he needed to get over it, because he had about as much chance with her as I did at getting Beck’s blessing to make out with his sister.
Speaking of, Megan was finally walking my way, a few footsteps from an inevitable meeting, and my pulse thrummed in my ears.
She looked up and saw me, then quickly changed direction.
“Megan, wait.” As subtlety as I could, I followed her. After a quick glance to confirm Beck wasn’t nearby, I grabbed her arm. “You know I remembered your name, right? I was just trying to follow your lead and play it cool.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were on the hockey team the other night?” she asked.
I shrugged. Honestly, I started to, but then Larry interrupted, and I’d decided it was nice she didn’t know. A lot of girls—girls like Misty, who didn’t care so much who I was, but only that I played hockey—approached me because of it. I used to not care, but trying to be a better person shifted my priorities. “I was just enjoying it being about you and me. Then, when you said your last name, I realized I’d screwed up.”
“Ouch,” she said, her expression matching the sentiment, and sending a stab through me.
I held up a placating hand, trying to reverse this whole conversation before it completely went the wrong way. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant…I knew Beck would be pissed. Last semester he said something about you coming, and it was clear that you were off-limits.”
She sighed. “Of course he did. That’s my brother for you. I guess when I decided to escape my old life, I should’ve started over somewhere absolutely no one would know me. Silly me, thinking it’d be nice to have my brother nearby.”
Several questions popped in my head, and the escape definitely caught my attention. She mentioned her high school experience was bad, but it seemed like there was more, and I found myself wanting to know it all. That’d only get me deeper, and I was plenty deep in this mess as it was.
I made the mistake of looking at her, though, and then I couldn’t stop looking. Her white shirt had a gold zipper down the front, and my finger itched to hook into the ring and toy with it—just a little. Then I was thinking about her lips, and how soft they’d felt pressed against mine. The way she’d kissed me… Heat wound through my body and my throat went dry.
You’ve got to stop now, before you do something stupid like kiss her again. I did another sweep for her brother, nudging her toward the stairwell when I spotted him and Lyla near the kitchen.
“What I should’ve told you the other night is that I play hockey for the college, and it keeps me crazy busy,” I said.
Her face dropped and I wanted to take it back. “Oh. I get it.”
“I don’t think you do.” I scooted closer, very aware of the mere inch or two between our bodies. “The other night was…”
She flinched. “I don’t think I want you to finish that.”
“Great,” I said, because it was too late to stop it. “Actually, great isn’t strong enough. It was amazing. But I don’t do relationships, and I know that sounds like a crappy cop-out, but it’s true. I don’t have time. And now that I know you’re Beck’s little sister…”
“I get it.” She lifted her chin. “I’m looking for someone who can spend time with me anyway. Guess I should add someone who’s not scared of my brother to that list.”
I frowned. “I’m not scared. I’m trying to be respectful of my teammate. We’re heading into some of the hardest games of the season, and playoffs are coming up. The last thing I need is to get on his bad side.”
“Right,” she said with one sharp nod. Then her gaze lifted to mine and a small smile touched her lips. “It was nice knowing you, Dane Kowalski.”
There was something about the way she said my full name that made me want to take back everything and forget about what I should do. And while I was letting facts slip from my memory, I might as well forget that ending things before they could start was the right choice; that I’d decided to choose the non-selfish path from now on.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a drink and find Lyla.” Megan walked away, and despite telling myself not to watch her go, I couldn’t help it.
Under my breath, I said, “It was nice knowing you, too, Megan.” I didn’t use her last name, because it’d only remind me that she was Beck’s sister and that I definitely shouldn’t be checking out her ass.
The party had died down, I’d had two more close calls with handsy Misty, and I’d stared at Megan across the room enough that I’d memorized her profile. I stuck to water all night so I wouldn’t do something stupid, not with Megan and not with any other girl—not that I could settle for anyone else now that I’d met Megan. Nope, she was the only one tempting me to throw all my rules out the window, the way I did the other night when I kissed her.
The need to kiss her again filled me, and when a freshman approached her and got a little too friendly, I clenched my fists and started over.
Beck cut it off before I had to, and I took more comfort than I probably should that at least no one else on the team could have her.
But then Beck started toward me, and I quickly looked away from his sister, my senses going on high alert, a thread of guilt mixing in there, too.
“Hey, sorry if I overacted earlier,” he said.
I forced a casualness into my tone I didn’t feel. “No worries, bro.”
He clapped me on the back—a bit harder than a hey buddy ol’ pal required. “But I trust that I don’t have to mention again that my little sister is off-limits. She’s been through a rough time the past few years, and she’s worked really hard to get here so she can have a fresh start and get away from all that. I don’t need her becoming part of some twisted bet. Just to be crystal clear.”
Guilt—way more than a thread of it now—pressed against my chest. Of course he’d bring up the bet that continued to haunt me. I fought the urge to defend myself. Yes, it was stupid to bet Hudson that he couldn’t sleep with the prickly sports reporter, but I did it because he’d been spiraling, and however misguided, I honestly had been trying to help. Whitney had found it in her to forgive me—probably because she and Hudson had fallen in love—but I didn’t expect Beck to understand, not when he was only trying to protect
his little sister.
As an older brother of four sisters, I got it—more than I wanted to. If any of the guys on the team so much as looked at my sisters, I’d tell them to back the hell off. I knew too much about them to trust them, just like Beck knew too much about me.
“No more bets,” I said. “And I hear you loud and clear. Megan’s off-limits, and I respect you for trying to protect her.”
“Good to hear.” He clapped me on the shoulder again, this time a little softer. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
And just like that, Megan’s and my fate was sealed. In that we no longer had one.
Chapter Seven
Megan
Me + shiny new calculus book = happy nerd feelings
Yesterday’s classes were all fine and well, but they’d been Gen Ed requirements, and I’d finally made it to one of the courses I was crazy excited about. High school math had been a big yawn fest, but my algebra teacher had noticed how bored I was and suggested I enroll in the advanced track. At first I’d said no, because it wasn’t cool and I’d stupidly cared too much about looking cool.
But once I set out to prove I could get into college early, I’d taken those classes and felt like I’d found my home base. In math, answers were wrong or right, no gray area. The more I learned, the more I wanted to, and once engineering got thrown into the mix, I was hooked.
Other than picking the perfect accessories for an outfit, I’d never considered myself above average at anything. But I not only excelled at math and engineering, I also found them interesting. I happened to notice I was one of the few females in the advanced classes—and the only female enrolled in the STEM program—and ended up doing some research on the lack of women in math-intensive fields. According to several articles, it had a lot to do with gender biases and the subjects and careers girls were pushed toward early in life, as young as elementary school. After reading all the statistics and numbers, I decided I could make a difference.
I sat in a desk near the front and pulled out my notebook, Ti-Nspire CX graphing calculator, and mechanical pencils. Since I wasn’t in high school anymore—and since I no longer cared what people thought about me—I could let my math-nerd flag fly.
“Megan?”
I jerked up my head, sure that the voice I’d heard couldn’t possibly be the one it really was. But there he was. The hot insomniac hockey player who didn’t do relationships, especially with his teammate’s little sister.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m in this class. What are you doing here?”
“Same thing. I don’t usually go around sitting in classrooms for funsies.” Although I do hope this course turns out to be fun.
“But you’re a freshman. How are you already in this class?”
“How are you not in a higher one?”
At his offended expression, I realized how insulting that sounded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… Between my ACT scores and a pre-calc college course, I qualified to jump right to calculus.” Excitement seeped into my tone, and since I was so used to smothering it, it took me a second to realize there was no cause for panic or backtracking. I owned it now.
Dane sat on the top of the desk across from mine, his legs blocking the aisle. “So, you’re a math nerd?”
“I have a healthy appreciation for mathematics, yes.”
He laughed, and it only reminded me that he had a sexy laugh. I wanted to go back to that night in the diner and live in it for a while. I hadn’t properly savored every second in the Before Time, when we were just two people who’d met at a party and there was still so much possibility hanging over us.
“Well, I have no appreciation for it and it feels the same about me. I didn’t think I’d have to take another math class, but I switched my major and now here I am, adding calculus to the list of classes that’ll probably kill me.” He ran a hand through his hair—I’d only seen him without his hat for a moment in the diner, and while I liked the casual baseball cap look, I was equally intrigued by the semi-gelled one. Long hair on guys didn’t usually send my pulse racing, but every interaction with Dane only made my attraction to him grow.
“Guess we skipped the small talk about majors when we met. Don’t tell me you like math enough to major in it?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his tone as he raised an eyebrow, challenging me to deny it.
“I’m a bit undecided on the exact field. Math will definitely be involved, but I’m thinking engineering. I have both an electrical and biomedical course this semester to help me choose which I want to explore more.”
“Wow. I don’t know very many girls into engineering.”
“Which is exactly the problem.”
His brow crinkled.
Before I could explain, the professor walked in. Dane glanced at the two open seats in the back, then at me. He swung around and slid into the seat of the desk he’d been perched on.
Growing up with a hockey player brother, I’d gotten used to how much bigger he was than most guys—which was another reason one look from him sent boys running—but I’d never seen him sitting in a school desk, and the way Dane nearly dwarfed his struck me as funny.
He caught me looking, and a smile spread across his face. Butterflies erupted, and I knew this was going to be my favorite class for more than one reason.
At the end of the hour, I packed up, paying extra care to my pencils and calculator. A thrill went through me when Dane waited for me instead of charging out of the classroom. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked.
“Was he even speaking English?”
“He did kind of jump right into it.” In most of my other classes, the professors took the time to introduce themselves and go over the syllabus. Professor Stewart just launched into a lecture and gave us a massive assignment. As much as I liked math and learning new terms, my love had its limits. Those homework problems were going to take a lot of my time, and I had assignments in my other classes to tend to as well.
“I’m sure you’ll get it once you dive in,” I said.
“I’ve tried that method. Granted, I more belly flop than dive in.”
I laughed, and he bumped his shoulder into me, a big goofy grin on his face. Damn it, how was I supposed to not continue to crush on the guy when he did things like that?
Since the moment he’d strolled into the classroom, I’d let myself forget that despite hitting a lot of boyfriend-potential qualities, he was officially out. He’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship, and I did.
So I shouldn’t get wrapped up in great sense of humor, or start thinking about how much we had in common, or the way my body hummed around him.
“Maybe if I had a study buddy who actually understood the material…?” Before I could volunteer as tribute, he shook his head. “Forget I said that. After everything, I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.”
“You mean since you’ve put me in a compromising position before?” I leaned in and whispered, “To tell the truth, I rather enjoyed it.”
He stutter-stepped, missing the strap of his backpack he was trying to loop his free arm into.
Speaking of shouldn’ts, flirting with him was definitely on the list. Then again, I hadn’t decided I couldn’t do this. If he thought I was going to make it easy for him to ignore our chemistry and simply walk away, he could think again. I was done holding back and thinking twice before saying anything.
Bonus, he was damn cute when he was flustered. “Is that pink I see in your face, Kowalski?” I poked his cheek, and he reached out and caught my wrist, so fast my breath lodged in my throat.
For a second, time froze. His dark eyes searched my face, and I licked my lips. He rubbed a circle over the pulse point in my wrist, sending the blood rushing under the skin into a frenzy.
Hope sparked—he felt it, too, I could see it in his dilated eyes and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Maybe if our connection continued to grow, he’d change his mind. He had to, ri
ght?
An annoyingly logical voice in the back of my head told me it was foolish to entertain the thought of him changing for me, but the electric zing traveling up my arm chased it away.
“I better get to practice,” Dane said, his voice low and husky. “I’ll see you next class, I’m sure.”
“I’ll be there. And if you need help with your homework, you’ve got my number.”
Chapter Eight
Dane
My phone rang, my sister’s name flashing across the display. My muscles complained as I lifted my phone to my ear, the simple gesture suddenly more than my body could handle. Practice had been brutal this week, and I couldn’t decide if my thighs or arms hurt worse—no matter how much I tried to keep in shape over breaks with lifting and cardio, they couldn’t hold a candle to Coach’s sadistic practices.
“What’s up?” I asked Cassidy, the oldest of my sisters, and the one I’d always been closest to.
“You know how Lissa was all moody over Christmas?”
Honestly, I hadn’t noticed. When it came to that many women living under the same roof, moodiness was a given. “Let’s say for the sake of this conversation, I do.”
“She’s been hanging out with Jazmine and her crowd lately.” The name stopped me cold. “I’m worried. Can’t you call Jazmine and tell her to leave Lissa out of whatever she’s got going on?”
Sure. Just call my ex-girlfriend and remind her that she hangs out with the wrong crowd and makes all the wrong choices, and that not only did I leave her behind and not show up when she needed me most, but I also wanted her to stay away from my family. That sounded about as much fun as swimming through shark-infested waters with a bloody slab of meat attached to my back—both would result in my ass getting chewed.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You think Lissa’s just drinking? Or worse?”
“Worse,” Cassidy said, her voice low but certain. “She’s up and down, and she’s hiding things from me, and when I ask her about where she’s going, she lashes out. Mom and Dad are so stressed about the money situation that they don’t see it. Not that they’re even home for long enough to notice.”