Crazy Pucking Love (Taking Shots)

by Cindi Madsen

  Relief flooded his features and it calmed all the unsure emotions swirling around inside me. There was something in him that needed me, just like I needed him. Maybe he’d taken himself out of the potential boyfriend category, but I had other items, and he definitely fit number three.

  3. Make good, not-fake friends, who’ll have my back instead of stab it

  I could honestly say that I was sure Dane would have my back if and when I needed it, so I’d have his back, too. Even if my heart would always wish we could be a little bit more.

  …

  After the end of the movie, which I actually enjoyed once the anxiety-and-caffeine-fueled adrenaline had left my body, I checked the time on my phone and saw that I had a calendar alert.

  When I opened it, I shot straight up. “Crap. I forgot to email my professor my paper. I accidently set the reminder for p.m. instead of a.m., and now it’s due in…eight minutes.”

  Dane put his hands on my shoulders. “Okay, first, breathe…”

  I sucked in a deep breath and then slowly expelled it.

  “Now, what do you need?” he asked.

  “My laptop, but it’ll take me longer than eight minutes to get to campus, and surely he’s not sitting there waiting, but what if he sees the timestamp and decides he won’t take it?” Would the professor do that? Judging by how much he’d already assigned us, he clearly had sadistic tendencies.

  My mind spun for a faster solution to ensure I got credit for the paper, and I realized thanks to my saving-in-three-places paranoia, I had everything I needed in my email account. I just needed to open it up and add the one reference that I’d procrastinated finding, to the point of forgetting about it. “Actually, any computer would do.”

  “I have one of those.” Dane stood and started toward the back of the apartment, and I followed after him. My first instinct was to take a better look at his bedroom and see what insight I could gain, but I forced it away because right now my assignment took precedence.

  Dane sat me on the foot of his bed and grabbed the laptop off his desk. The roller chair in front of it had about a weeks’ worth of clothes on there, which explained sitting on the bed instead, although I was starting to get distracted thinking about Dane lying in it every night.

  The familiar cologne he wore was stronger in here, too, and I fought the urge to lean down and sniff his bedding—that’d probably come across as clingy and border-line obsessed, and all the things I was trying not to be.

  The bed dipped as Dane sat next to me and opened up his laptop. He typed in the password and handed it over.

  My fingers flew across the keyboard as I pulled up the page for my email. Usually I was already logged in, computer or phone, and it took me two tries to remember which of my common passwords went to my email address.

  I opened the document, checked that everything was in order, and after a quick glance at the time—four minutes till midnight—I decided it’d have to go without the reference. I double-checked I had the right email address before attaching the document and sending it. Cool relief flooded my veins and I closed the laptop and smoothed my hand across the top. “Thank you. Missing that assignment would’ve been bad.”

  “Sure thing.” Dane reached over me, placing the computer on the nightstand, and I took a whiff, feeling bolder now that the crisis had been averted. Plus I figured he wouldn’t notice.

  Speaking of noticing, I couldn’t stop staring at the strong line of his back and the way his T-shirt clung to his muscles. I never thought I’d be jealous of clothing, but there it was.

  I shot him a smile when he glanced my way, trying to cover my ogling. “Seriously, you were totally the hero tonight.”

  Dane grinned. “Yeah, I’m practically a brunette Thor—if you’re going to compare my long hair to someone, let’s stick with superheroes.”

  “Thor.” I gave one sharp nod, my smile widening. “Got it.”

  He grabbed the hockey stick next to his bed and lifted it above his head. “See, got my hammer.”

  As he lowered it, I gestured for him to hand it over. I spun it in my lap, studying the scuffs and tape. “Hmm. I must be worthy.”

  “To hold my stick?” He cleared his throat, apparently realizing at the same time I did how easily that could turn into an innuendo. Was it bad to wish he’d turn it into one? I couldn’t, because I didn’t want to be shut down for the second time tonight—my self-esteem could only handle so many hits.

  I handed his hockey stick back to him. “It’s a little crooked on the end. You should look into that.” Okay, so I failed at totally fighting back the innuendos—but I’d gone for more funny-and-clearly-a-joke, and judging by his snort-laugh, it’d worked.

  He sighed, the sound happy yet tired, and his eyelids drifted closed. He jerked up his head, scrubbed a hand over his face, and blinked.

  “You’re tired,” I said. “I should leave so you can get some sleep.”

  He tossed off his beanie and raked his fingers through his hair. “I start feeling like this, then the second I lay down everything hits me at once and I pop back awake. I probably won’t actually be able to fall asleep.”

  “Well, try anyway. You need it.”

  “So do you. I’ll try if you do.” He toed off his shoes and scooted back on the bed. He tugged on my arm, and between the tug and the way the bed dipped with his weight, fighting gravity didn’t seem worth it. I slid into him, until my back hit his chest, and he draped his arm around my waist. You know, like friends do? “Let’s just rest for a little while.”

  His breath skated over my neck and my heart hammered against my ribcage, working double-time even as my muscles relaxed into the embrace. “Tell me something,” he said as he ran his finger down the chain of my earring and pinched the pink heart between his fingers. “When you were taking all those figure skating lessons, did you still wear your giant earrings?”

  “No. Well, once I forgot to take them out during practice, and they smacked me in the side of the face every time I spun.” Thanks to the beanie I’d donned during our time on the rink, these ones had stayed in place.

  Dane’s chest bumped against my back in a silent laugh. I rolled slightly, and he flashed me a sleepy grin. “I could totally see it,” he said.

  “How about you? When did you start playing hockey?”

  “As soon as I could walk. My dad used to play. He even tried to get my sisters into it. It only took with one, and she’s a hell of a goalie. No one can get past her.”

  I reached up and pushed my fingers through his hair and his eyes drifted closed. “Even you?”

  “Of course I can.” He smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. His hand slipped around my waist and he hooked his fingers on my hip, sending electric tingles dancing across my skin. “I would’ve gone crazy tonight if you hadn’t come over—you know that?”

  I traced the curve of his strong jaw, relishing the prickle of his whiskers against the pads of my fingers as I watched his pulse throb at the base of his throat. There was a part of me that screamed I should leave before I completely fell for Dane Kowalski, but I could feel his body relaxing more every second, and I knew he needed to sleep. That real, sound sleep that often danced just out of reach, taunting you with its magic rejuvenation power.

  And because I cared about him, I decided that instead of fighting the pull, I’d close my eyes and enjoy it.

  Only for a few minutes. Then I’d sneak out and leave him to sleep as I went home and attempted to do the same.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dane

  When I opened my eyes, the sunlight peeked through the blinds and the clock on the bedside table said it was past eight. I hadn’t slept so soundly in a long time, and I could hardly believe how amazing and rested I felt. I glanced down at the blond head on my shoulder, and the warmth from her body, which was curled nicely around mine, spread.

  Megan stirred, and her leg shifted, her thigh now dangerously close to the morning situation I had going on—and looking at her was on
ly making it worse. Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Hey.” I ran my hand across the arm she had draped over my chest, trying not to think about how soft her skin felt, about how nice she smelled, and especially not about how much I enjoyed having her curves pressed against me. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like the dead,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. “I meant to leave after you feel asleep, but apparently I crashed, too. Seriously, I haven’t slept that well in forever.”

  I fought the urge to tell her maybe we should sleep together every night, then.

  This early in the morning, with her thigh brushing my erection, it was hard to remember how I’d managed to not kiss her last night. Pulling away had taken every ounce of my control, and right now, I was pretty sure I’d used it all up.

  “Ugh, I better get going or I’ll never make it to my nine o’clock class.” She stretched, her shirt riding up and exposing a few inches of her stomach, and my fingers twitched at the glimpse of delicious skin. Her mussed blond waves made it look like we’d done all of the naughty things currently tumbling through my mind. “I guess I’ll see you in calc later. What’s the rest of your afternoon look like? Any plans after practice?”

  Focus, Kowalski. You need to put some space between you and Megan before you forget that you’re trying to be a better person, and that involves not taking advantage of her being in your bed right now.

  I gritted my teeth and exhaled through my nose. “I have some studying to do.”

  I almost left it at that, but before I could stop them, the words “I was hoping maybe my math study buddy might help me” were out of my mouth and in the air, where I couldn’t take them back.

  Okay, so my brain and my body were clearly at odds, and the devil on my shoulder whispered that the invitation to study was innocent enough. That we’d already agreed to be late-night friends, too, and meeting up at the public diner to study would keep me in check.

  “She will if you go with her to her number one Boston spot first,” Megan said. “It’ll only take an hour or so.”

  “Deal.”

  She lifted herself off me, one hand braced on the side of my waist, and I told myself that was for the best. A few more seconds of cuddling and I might beg her to stay. My thoughts about what I wanted to do to her while she was in my bed made me feel guilty enough, and add in how long it’d been, and I was a hair away from losing control.

  “I think I’m stuck,” Megan said, kicking at the tangle of sheets that’d captured her legs. She went to tug herself free, but her hand slipped and she lost her balance…

  And landed right on top of me.

  Oh God.

  “Sorry,” she said with a giggle, reaching down and tugging her foot free, and the friction was about to kill me. Think of plays… Or broccoli. Broccoli’s not sexy at all.

  When she sat back, her center met my raging hard-on. She sucked in a sharp breath, and I tried—and failed—to suppress a moan. Her blue eyes flew wide and her mouth fell open.

  I gripped her hips, lifted her off me, and rolled off the bed, standing so quickly it made me dizzy. I cleared my throat. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  An icy cold one.

  As I charged into the bathroom, I ran a hand through my hair and tugged until the pricks of pain sharpened my focus, so I wouldn’t do something stupid, like go back there and kiss her. Or ask her to join me.

  Think about what you could lose…

  I forced myself to recall one of the shittiest days of my life, how the sound of Jazmine’s sobs on the other end of the line had sliced me open and made it clear how badly I’d failed her. In one fell swoop, I ruined not only our relationship, but destroyed our friendship, erasing all the good memories with one bad decision.

  That moment confirmed I’d chosen wrong—that my priorities had clearly gotten out of whack—but it was too late to fix it.

  Instead of facing my feelings, I’d gone through a blur of girls, telling myself to look at it as freedom instead of a bad thing, even though I knew I’d lost something.

  It took almost a year for it to catch up to me. A few months ago, Taylor, one of the girls I slept with at the end of the blur, confronted me in the middle of campus, and as tears ran down her cheeks, taking dark streams of mascara along with them, she’d said, “I thought you were one of the good ones.” And I had to face up to the fact that I’d hurt a sweet girl whose only flaw was liking me.

  I wasn’t a good guy anymore, and hadn’t been in a while.

  Running into Jazmine over Christmas break and seeing how far she’d fallen only drove the point home that she meant it when she told me I’d broken her.

  Megan was young and sweet, and more than that, I genuinely liked her. Our connection ran deeper than friendship, but I couldn’t do more than that. I didn’t want to break her.

  So I’d have to work harder at being her friend while holding her at least a good arm’s-distance away. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull that off, but the price of failing was too high, so I’d do whatever it took to figure it out.

  …

  “She’s getting worse,” Cassidy said the second I answered the phone on Monday afternoon, and I didn’t have to ask who. My sixteen-year-old sister was going to make Cass, and in turn me, go prematurely gray. “Last night she didn’t even come home, Dane. But Mom and Dad were both working so late that I’m sure they just crashed without realizing Lissa wasn’t in her bed. They were asleep when I left for school, and I’m not sure if I should tell them.”

  Thanks to our parents’ busy work schedules, we’d never had much supervision at home, but so far there hadn’t been a big need for curfews and strictly enforced rules. Not that Hudson and I hadn’t occasionally gotten into trouble, but we’d steered clear of the type of trouble that Jazmine—and now Lissa apparently—were getting into.

  “Did you talk to Jazmine yet?” Cassidy asked.

  I’d conveniently ignored my sister’s last text asking that question and sent a vague “call you later” one, because I didn’t want to confess how much my ex hated me now, or that she might actually get Lissa into more trouble to spite me. “I did. It…didn’t go so well. I think you better loop in Mom and Dad.”

  “I worry that’ll only push her away more. And they already have so much to deal with.”

  “Well, there’s not much I can do from here, Cass. I know things are tough right now, and I wish I could do more, but the only way I can think of to help is to get through school and be able to contribute financially.”

  “I’m afraid that by then, it’ll be too late.”

  A knock sounded on my bedroom door, followed by Hudson pushing it open. “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late.”

  I finished shoving my hockey gear into my bag and zipped it closed, the noise loud compared to the quiet that’d fallen on the other end of the line. My sister was probably near tears, which made me feel like shit, but again, what could I do about it from here? “I gotta go to practice. I’ll call you later.”

  No answer.

  “Cass?”

  Her sniff carried over the line. “Yeah. Do what you’ve got to do.” Yep. There were definitely tears.

  Dammit. Helpless to do much else, I hung up.

  “What’s going on at home?” Hudson asked as we walked toward the living room.

  “Sister drama,” I said.

  “Regular, or worse?”

  “I’m about to leave both your asses.” Ox stood by the door, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and an impatient expression on his face. The guy wasn’t much of a talker, and since I was, I’d tried most everything to get him to. For a while, all I knew was that he was into hockey with a side of training for hockey. The math genius thing had been revealed near the end of last semester, when he found out that Hudson was struggling with a psychology statistics class and asked why he hadn’t come to him for help, like we’d somehow just know he could solve equations in his sleep.

  My suspicions over hi
s interest in Whitney’s editor were through observations, not conversation. I was hoping he’d find another girl before I had to break the news that that was never going to happen.

  The second we closed the doors of Ox’s car, he spun out of the parking lot—he insisted on driving, because he always got us to the rink several minutes faster. I was sure he’d get a speeding ticket one day, but then again, if I were a cop and I pulled him over, at one angry scowl, I’d let him go.

  Hudson twisted in the passenger seat and looked back at me. “You never answered my question.”

  “It’s nothing,” I automatically said, wishing it were true.

  “Is it the same nothing that made you get into a fight at the last home game? I knew something was off, I just didn’t put it together till now.”

  Hiding stuff from Hudson would be a lot easier if he didn’t know me so well. I rotated my hat to face forward, hoping between the bill and the dark, the extent of my worry wouldn’t be quite as apparent. “Lissa’s getting into trouble. She’s been hanging out with Jazmine and her crew.”

  “That’ll do it.”

  I pinned him with a look.

  Hudson shrugged. “Hey, I call them how I see them. You’re better off without that girl.”

  Maybe—especially now. But she wasn’t better off without me.

  “You kept her out of trouble as long as you could,” Hudson said. “At some point, she needed to make her own decisions, and she did.”

  “Bro, she lost her mom. And you know hard it is back home.” You could say that addicts moved to the rough neighborhood Hudson and I came from, but I’d make an argument that living there also turned people into addicts, because they needed the escape. Maybe it was an excuse, but it was also the truth.

  Back when I was with Jazmine, I kept her from getting too deep into all that shit. Her mom’s boyfriends were a lot like the boyfriends Hudson’s mom had—alcoholic, junkie losers who turned violent on a dime.

  I first met her in junior high, and she lived close enough to us that we started to walk home together. One afternoon she confessed she was scared to go home because of her mom’s boyfriend, so I told her to come home with me. We became friends after that, and I did my best to protect her from everything I could.