by Kat Mizera
“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t sure whether to tease her or let her off easy. It had been a long time since I’d been with a girl who blushed this easily.
“I meant with hockey,” she said, shaking her head.
“If you say so.” I grinned and took a sip of soda.
“Speaking of hockey,” she said, delicately dabbing her mouth with her napkin even though she was done eating, “do you study at all on the weekends or is it all hockey?”
“All hockey,” I admitted. “If we have away games, there’s travel involved, and I might do some reading or look at notes on the way home, but on the way there, I’m focused on the game. On a night like tonight, after a big win, there’s no way I could concentrate on school stuff, I’m way too wound up, so Fridays and Saturdays aren’t study days. Sunday could be an all-day thing, but usually I’m off doing something fun.”
“Balance,” she said with a grin. “A few hours of studying, a few hours of fun.”
I made a face. “Yeah, I’ve never been good about that kind of balance, but I have to try because Coach won’t be happy if my grades drop.”
“We’ll stay on top of them,” she said. “In my experience, which is a lot when it comes to studying, you always do the stuff you like the least first. That way, doing the fun stuff is sort of like a reward. I used to do all the non-science stuff first because I don’t love it, but I knew all the biology and harder topics were coming, which gave me the energy to keep going.”
“For me, I don’t love any of it. Some of it isn’t as bad as others, but mostly I prefer sports.”
“Why didn’t you major in something sports-related?”
“Too much science,” I quipped.
We both laughed.
“I might be offended,” she said, though she was still smiling.
“Nah. I wish I was as smart as you.”
She chewed her lip for a moment, all playfulness gone. “No, you really don’t,” she said after a moment. “You wouldn’t believe the expectations once people realize you’re smart. I can’t ever get a B. Ever.”
“You’ve never gotten a B?” I couldn’t even imagine.
“Nope. I got a ninety-four on a paper once and my mother was apoplectic. Luckily, now that I’m a legal adult and my education is free thanks to scholarships and my teaching, she doesn’t have access to my grades, but I still feel that pressure. There’s always pressure. Pressure about grades, about med school, about my career, my future, how many Nobel Prizes I might win…” Her voice trailed off. “Sorry. I might get bitter sometimes.”
“Believe me, I get it.” I nodded. “My dad played pro hockey but he got an injury that ended his career early on. He had no education, no skills other than hockey, so he wasn’t very employable and it hurt our family financially. We always struggled, so now all he talks about is getting Pax and me to the big leagues. He wanted us to go pro without even going to college, but we pushed back on that. Now he’s saying it’s time, that we’re ready, and even though he might be right, we both want to get our degrees. Paxton could graduate now. He took a thousand AP classes in high school and started with something like two semesters of credit. So he can graduate in May if he wants to. I still need three classes after this and I’m kind of afraid if I leave at the end of this year, I’ll never finish.”
“There’s no hockey in the summer, right? You could take summer classes.”
“I know. To be honest, I don’t think about much else lately. My dad’s voice is in my ear constantly, telling me to go pro. Then I look at Paxton, who’s ready to graduate, and I could kick myself for not working as hard academically as he has, so I can graduate this spring too.”
“Self-flagellation and regret about the past are counterproductive,” she said. “The best way to move forward is to focus on what to do now. What do you want now? Go pro or stay in college? Make the money or get the degree so you have a backup plan? Which thing is most important to you?”
“Both,” I admitted sadly. “I want the degree but I’m ready to go pro. And if Paxton leaves at the end of the year, it won’t be the same without him. I can’t imagine getting on the ice every night knowing he’s playing in Seattle.”
“I’ll bet it’s going to be hard for you guys to be separated,” she said. “Does that make you nervous?”
I looked at her in surprise. No one had ever asked me what it might be like for us to be apart once we left college. We’d played together since we were practically babies, and that was one thing I’d tried not to think about too much, the idea that he and I would be playing not just on separate teams, but against each other sometimes. The media had asked us something like that back when we’d first been drafted, but it had been lighthearted and laced with excitement then. It was different now that it was closer to becoming a reality.
“It does,” I said slowly. “Not nervous so much as sad. I’ve never been away from him for any length of time. And while that might sound kind of weird and needy, it’s not about that. We don’t need each other, so to speak, but we rely on each other in ways that are hard to explain. Our bond as twins is special. Our mom died when we were ten and we’re not close to our dad, so it’s going to take getting used to. Not having him on the ice will be one thing, but not being able to run things past him, or hang out after practice, well, that’s not going to be easy.”
“I can’t even imagine,” she said. “He’s literally your other half—physically and emotionally. It makes sense that you’re going to miss him.”
“In a way, it’s already started,” I admitted. “Now that he has a girlfriend, and it’s looking pretty serious, he’s already moving in a different direction. It’s weird.”
“It’s ironic because that’s all I want,” she said. “To move in a totally different direction than my life so far. I don’t want to go to medical school, which has been the direction I’ve been heading since I was about fourteen. Now I want to explore a bunch of different options, maybe teach a few years, wrap my head around all this adulting stuff. I’ve only been an adult a little over a year, and so far, it’s been really freakin’ hard.”
“I’ve been an adult three years and it’s hard, so I think it takes a while. It’s nice to know others are going through it too, though, so you don’t feel so alone.”
“I’ve always felt alone,” she whispered.
“Not anymore,” I said, putting one of my hands on top of hers. “Now you have me.”
“That’s so nice.”
I hadn’t thought about being nice to her, beyond a general modicum of manners, but the grateful look in her eyes made me feel good. Hell, everything about her made me feel good. And I hadn’t been expecting that at all.
6
Ellie
I hoped he wouldn’t run screaming from the restaurant at the serious turn our conversation had taken, but he was so easy to talk to. We had a lot in common, which I never would have imagined. His overbearing father, my overbearing mother, and a lot of concern about this whole idea of adulting. He was twenty-one, and hadn’t been nearly as sheltered as I had, but I heard a lot of the same insecurities in his voice that I often felt in myself.
We talked and drank soda until we were the last people in the restaurant and we finally paid the bill and walked out to my car. I didn’t want this night to end but he had another game tomorrow and I needed to spend the whole day working on my research paper if I was going to go out again tomorrow night.
“Where do you live?” I asked him when we got into the car. It was a frigid January night and I shivered as I waited for the heat to kick in.
“In the apartments on Bellamy,” he said.
I knew just where those apartments were located since a lot of Moo U students lived there and it wasn’t far. I’d considered living there too but I got my room and board for free between being a resident assistant in the dorm and my teaching, and I liked the fact that I didn’t have to count on my parents for housing. They already paid for my car, insurance, and phone, so I’d been wil
ling to suck it up for the tiniest bit of freedom.
He told me where to drop him off and I pulled up to the curb.
“Tonight was great,” he said, turning to me. “I’m really looking forward to doing it again tomorrow night.”
“You are?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I mentally grimaced, wishing I knew how to be a little coy, a little flirty, instead of insecure and out of my league.
“Well, yeah.” He frowned. “Aren’t you?”
“I haven’t dated anyone since I came to college,” I blurted out. “I was only fifteen then, so I was too young for college guys, and now that I’m legal, most guys think I’m dorky. So I don’t know how this works. If you’re just trying to be nice so I’ll tutor you, you don’t have to because I’d do it anyway. As a favor to Paxton.”
“You think this is about tutoring?” He looked both a little mad and a little sad, which confused me even more.
“I don’t know why the captain of the hockey team—who can and does sleep with everything that moves—is interested in me when not a single guy on campus ever has been before.”
There. I’d said it. It was out in the open now and if nothing else, he’d know I wasn’t naïve enough to think he really wanted to date me.
“You haven’t gone out on a single date the whole time you’ve been here?” he asked, ignoring everything else I’d said.
I shook my head. “Not a real date, like we had tonight. I’ve met guys at the library or for coffee, but never like this.”
“Their loss is my gain.” He reached out and pushed one side of my hair behind my ear. “I thought we had a connection,” he said softly. “That night at the party. I think you’re pretty and smart and sweet. It has nothing to do with tutoring or anything like that. I don’t know what other guys see when they look at you, but I’ll be honest and say that someone as smart as you is probably a little intimidating.”
“And you’re not, um, intimidated?” Why did I say “um” all the time? I sounded like a nervous twelve-year-old.
“No.” He leaned forward, his eyes locked with mine. “Not even a little. And I think maybe the best way to prove that to you is like this.”
Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit—he was kissing me. His lips were lightly pressed to mine, caressing them as if they were made of glass. Gentle whispers of skin against my mouth, nothing like I’d imagined kissing a hottie like Patrick would be. I’d only been kissed a handful of times before and it had always been sloppy and wet; this was ridiculously sweet. And definitely not sloppy.
Not even when he slid his tongue along the seam of my lips, gently prying them apart. My mouth opened of its own volition, anxious for more, because nothing had prepared me for this. When our tongues finally met one another, it was like a magnetic force had drawn them together and I couldn’t do anything but go along for the ride. It felt like my whole body was involved, instead of just my mouth, and I let myself get swept away.
I might have whimpered in protest when he finally pulled away, and the look in his eyes was one I’d only ever read about in books. I didn’t know men actually looked at women that way. It didn’t have to be love or anything that deep, but sheer, unadulterated desire? I’d never seen it outside of movies and this was way, way better because it was directed at me. The fact that I turned him on enough to put that look there, well, that was something new to me and it did all kinds of things to my nether regions.
“I should go,” he said softly, still watching my face with that look that made me shiver all over.
“It’s late,” I said out loud, though I really wanted to sit here long enough for him to kiss me again.
“I had fun tonight. And I’d like to go out with you again after the game tomorrow…if you want to.”
“I…yes.” I almost said “um” again but caught myself. “Yes, I’d like to.”
“Good night, Ellie.” He pressed his lips to mine, chastely this time, and then got out of the car and bounded up the steps of his building.
I was in so much trouble.
For the first time in a long time, I had trouble studying the next day. I kept staring off into space, doodling Patrick’s name on the notebook in front of me. I had most of my stuff on my laptop, but some of my notes were handwritten so I could reference different things while I worked. I also had textbooks open and Post-it notes everywhere. My research was all over the place, but I worked best that way, and normally, having everything spread out on my desk kept me focused.
My phone buzzed and I looked down to see a text from Harley.
HARLEY: Well?! Are you seriously keeping me in suspense?
ELLIE: We had pizza and talked until Tito’s closed. Then I took him home.
HARLEY: That’s it? No hanky-panky?
ELLIE: There might have been a little hanky. No panky, though.
HARLEY: What?!
ELLIE: We kissed. That’s all. Nothing earth-shattering.
HARLEY: And?
ELLIE: And what?
HARLEY: Was it good? Did you like it? Are you going out again? I’m going to kill you if you don’t tell me everything!
ELLIE: LOL. We kissed good night. That’s all. It was nice.
HARLEY: Are you going to the game tonight?
ELLIE: I am.
HARLEY: Oh, shit’s about to get real for you… I’ll meet you there! We obviously need to talk.
ELLIE: See you there.
Harley took off right after the game and I waited in front of the arena for Patrick to get there. I’d spent a lot of time getting ready tonight, even though I was in jeans and a Moo U hoodie, but I’d been waffling between keeping my makeup light so Patrick could see the real me, or putting it on heavy, which was how it had been the night we’d met. He’d seen me both ways already, since I hadn’t been wearing makeup when we’d met up on Friday, and I finally opted to wear a little mascara and lip gloss but to keep it simple. Either he liked me or he didn’t, and the real me only wore makeup on special occasions or to a party or something. Most days, I put my hair in a ponytail, threw on a little mascara and ran out the door. I’d put in a little more effort than that for a date with Patrick, but I wasn’t going to go nuts either.
I’d only recently learned about hair and makeup, and at nineteen, I figured I was way behind the eight ball in this department. I’d gotten my braces off two years ago and started wearing lip gloss. From there, I’d learned to tame my frizzy mop with good hair products and a flat iron. Then I’d moved to mascara, eyeliner, and eventually a whole routine that included foundation and bronzer. Mom had been horrified, saying I had better things to do with my time, but she’d gotten quiet when I’d pointed out she never left the house without makeup. She’d never brought it up again and I’d spent a good part of last summer watching makeup tutorials on YouTube.
I didn’t know much about much when it came to dating, but I knew enough not to be something I wasn’t. I wanted to grow up and live a little, not change who I was. I assumed some change would happen organically, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Mostly, I wanted to spend as much time as possible looking into Patrick Graham’s deep blue eyes while pretending I was someone else. Someone who had a hot hockey hunk for a boyfriend. There had been no Patrick Grahams in my fantasies, but now there was one in my life.
I was a little giddy as I waited for him, and though my rational mind warned me not to get attached, I couldn’t help it. I’d never had a guy interested in me before, not a hot, sexy adult guy. There had been some childhood crushes, and a handful of guys who’d shown some half-hearted interest, but this was different. Patrick was a man. A sexy, virile one at that, and while I had zero real-life experience, I’d read a lot and even watched a little porn. I was curious about sex, of course, and having a bachelor’s degree in biology, it was an important part of the field, but I’d assumed I’d be a virgin until I was thirty.
“Hey.” The gentle tap on my shoulder made me jump and I turned to see those beautiful blue eyes looking down at me.
“Hi.” I moved a little closer to him, tilting up my head in what I hoped was an inviting gesture. Sure enough, he bent his head and pressed a light kiss on my lips.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day,” he said softly.
“Me too.”
He wrapped his fingers around mine and tugged my hand. “Let’s get out of here. You want to go back to Tito’s or do something else?”
“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” I replied. “Somewhere we can be alone.”
7
Patrick
Somewhere we could be alone? The last thing I wanted was to be alone with her. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to. I wanted to be alone with her more than I wanted to take my next breath of air, but that would be dangerous. Sex wasn’t always my priority, but it was up there, and I already knew Ellie wasn’t the kind of girl you just hooked up with. If we got to the sex portion of the program, there was going to be more to us than hooking up, and it was too soon to know that.
Jesus, who was I and where had that mature, responsible-sounding thought come from?
She was waiting for me to say something, though, and knowing I was the first guy she’d dated as an adult meant I had to be careful because I also didn’t want her to think I wasn’t into her.
“Could we get something to eat first?” I asked. “I’m starving.”
“What if we picked up Tito’s and brought it back to my dorm? That way we’ll have some privacy, but you can still eat and I can keep an eye on the Saturday night shenanigans. Sometimes it gets rowdy.”
“Uh, sure.”
Shit. This was bad. This was really, really bad. But it also made sense for her to need to be in her dorm if she was an R.A. And I’d look like a jerk if I said I didn’t want to. Especially since I did.
I could spend the evening doing nothing but kissing her, right? It had been a long time since I’d had to hold back, but Ellie wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. I’d never believed in love at first sight, but we had some heavy-duty chemistry going on that I’d never experienced with anyone else. And I liked it. Well, mostly, I liked her.