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“Don’t make me punch you in the nose just when we’re starting to make up.”
Max bites his lip, probably holding back laughter. “So, what are we now? Friends?”
“I guess.” I shrug, as if it doesn’t both disappoint me and make me feel exhilarated. “Friends know each other’s actual names, though.”
“Funny you should say that. You keep calling me Cassiano, even though that’s my last name.”
“Oh, should I call you Massimo, then?”
If he could cringe any further, he would disappear into himself like a black hole. “Ugh, no. That’s what my parents call me.”
“Ha! Massimo it is, then.” Since his head is lowered almost to my level, I reach forward and rub his head as if he’s a kid. “That’s a good lad.”
He only puts up with the attack for a second. Before I know it, his hand captures my wrist, and with a jerk, he pulls me up against him.
My mouth parts and out comes an “oh.”
See, the thing is that friends don’t look at other friends like this. Like they’re one second away from crossing that line.
It doesn’t help that his lips are a masterpiece. I know the bow of his top lip fits like a glove against both of mine. His bottom lip is full and soft, and it’s easy to picture myself running my tongue across it.
When I raise my eyes to find his, I almost feel consumed by fire. He has to be thinking the same thing I am. Otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at me like that. He’d be pushing me away.
“Oh, someone’s here?”
At the new voice, Max and I scramble away from each other. My legs tangle in the air. If not for my great reflexes, I would have fallen on my butt.
Chelsea skates onto the ice.
“H-Hey, Chels!” My voice comes out so squeaky even the Bolts captain gives me a weird look. I clear my throat. “Uh, what brings you here?”
“Did you forget? Winning a bet for eternal glory means we get the ice at night for the foreseeable future,” my alternate captain says with a smile that, from anyone else, would precede a cascade of mockery. She doesn’t add anything further, though.
Max picks up his fallen stick without looking either of us in the eye. “Right. Well, I was just wrapping up for the night. Have at it.”
I don’t know whether he’s a coward or the sharpest tool in the shed, because he takes his delectable behind away. Why didn’t I come up with that excuse first?
“What was all that about?” Chelsea asks, eyebrows up.
“Nothing. He really was just leaving.” I’m glad my voice sounds totally normal now. “Wanna practice passing?”
“Sure.”
In the elongation of the word, it is clear she doesn’t believe me for squat. But it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been found getting cozy with the enemy by Brit or JT instead. That I wouldn’t be able to live down.
I have to be more careful now. Not just for the sake of peace between the Strikes and the Bolts, but also for my own. One more look from Massimo Cassiano like that, and I might just let him score in my net.
CHAPTER 19
MAX
“Dude, what the heck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” I answer Nate, knowing full well what the heck is wrong with me. “Anyway, tell them to hold the bus for me.”
He gives me an annoyed look. “You’re not that special, captain of the entire freaking team. But fine.”
I unbuckle myself and get up from my seat. “Careful. I’m gonna start thinking you have a crush on me or something.”
