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CHAPTER TWO
A few minutes later, more hooting and a remarkably death-inspiring slew across four lanes of traffic, we were headed back to Rippon.
My savior hasn't spoken since I’d gotten into the car, though the blush that stained her cheeks had receded somewhat.
I wanted to see her blush again.
Which really made me an asshole when she had rescued the damsel in distress from his kidnapping and provided a comfortable ride back to his castle. I poked the vents, and then the air con. “Does this work?”
She sent me an amused glance. “No.”
“Ah.” Which made me look like a royally entitled jerk. Maybe my nickname should be Princess, instead. “You haven’t told me the name of my knight in—” Shining armor might be pushing it. My gaze drifted to her skin tight black pants, and I jerked it back up with effort. “In varsity colors.” My varsity colors. I didn’t say it, though it hovered on the tip of my tongue.
“Willow Cheshire. Yes, like the cat.” She waved a hand in my direction when my face split into a wide grin. “No better than calling someone Napoleon.” She huffed a laugh. “Decent standards to live up to, huh? Memorable downfall though.”
“Are you a history major, Willow?” I asked to make sure I remembered her name as I leaned back in the passenger seat, stretching my legs out as far as they would conceivably go.
“Hell no. Occupational therapy. I’d like to work with returned veterans and help them manage their injuries. Well, some of them.” She nibbled on her bottom lip and never looked away from the road.
“That’s a decent goal. Drawing from your..?” I asked, letting my words hang.
Silence filled the small space between us in the bubble car.
Finally, she glanced over at me. “My father was an Army veteran. He had the internal fight that no one else really saw but us at home. He struggled with day-to-day things after a shoulder reconstruction and some...other injuries.” She stopped talking for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
“It's fine. We have time to fill. Go on,” I prompted her gently. Something about her intrigued me. Her story had my attention but there was much more to her than the model-slash-cheerleader type that she portrayed on the outside.
She sighed in a whoosh of breath. Tension that had held her shoulders in a tight line disappeared. “He lost his personal battle a few years ago, over highschool grad. The struggle of making his hands and arms work daily got too much, though there were plenty of things that were never dealt with inside him too.” She gripped the steering wheel with whitened knuckles. “I’m so sorry. I swear I don’t just blurt crap out to any random person.”
“It’s not crap. And if you need to say it, then say it.” Usually, having unrelated emotional shit dumped on me in any form wasn’t something I encouraged, having enough of my own to deal with.
But Willow spoke clearly, though her voice was raw, and every word came straight from the heart. If she put her passion into her study and work, she’d be amazing. I brushed my knuckles over the back of her hand on impulse, her skin soft against my calluses.
She jumped, swerving slightly, though she didn’t move her hand from where I had touched her.
“Well, thank you.” She straightened the car on the road, and flashed me an uncertain smile. “What about you?”
“Studying? Apart from hockey?”
“Well, can’t get between a boy and his first love,” she teased, her smile brightening a million watts.
I was the deer frozen in the headlights, except my headlights were a phantom of my own making.
“Got those priorities right,” I agreed. “Nothing so altruistic as you. Finance, economics. The capitalism that makes the world turn.”
“Aiming for CEO of a Fortune 500?”
“A fortune 50,” I corrected her.
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes.
“A boy’s gotta have goals.”
“How do those goals go against your professional sports ones? Isn’t there a conflict?” Her eyes held the question that she hadn’t asked yet.
“The game will always come first.The professional drafts come up soon and my last good chance is next year. Getting signed early is the dream.”
“And you’d drop your Fortune 50 dream for some ice shavings and a little black disc?” Her lips curved up, though her tone was somber.
