“And then I’ll magically appear to you in a hologram, like Princess Leia in—”
“Luca motherfucking Maguire!” It’s that same coach from before, this time screaming at him in a way that makes me worry he’s about to pop a blood vessel in his eye.
“Whoopsie,” Luca stage-whispers with a chuckle. “Somebody’s big mad at me.” To his coach, he yells, “Coming, Coach!” But damn if that naughty boy doesn’t return to meagainwith a huge smile. “See you at eight, Chelsea the Mathlete. Knock ’em dead today.” With that, he cavalierly jogs away, his body language practically screaming, “It’s my world and you’re all living in it, fuckers!”
Lord have mercy, no matter what happens next, even if I don’t get that first kiss I’m craving tonight—and possiblymore, if the kiss goes well—I’m definitely going to have the juiciest diary entry of my life tonight.
I watch Luca join the throng of young men ambling out of the breakfast area. And when it’s clear he’s truly headed out, I start packing up my computer.
“Hey, mathlete!” I look up from my bag and find Luca standing in the doorway. With a cheeky grin, he bellows, “The limit to my excitement to see you again tonight …does not exist!”
CHAPTER 2
Luca
“SORRY, NOPE, I checked twice, and nobody’s left a note for anyone,” the hotel clerk says from behind her desk.
With a low sigh, I shuffle toward a beige couch in a far corner of the beige lobby, figuring I’ll sit down to camouflage my shame and disappointment. Thanks to the long-stemmed red rose I’ve got in one hand and the plastic bag filled with two pints of ice cream in the other, I definitely look like a guy who’s being stood up for a date. It’s a first for me. I’m not a fan.
When I reach the couch, I flop down, place my stuff on a lacquered, off-white coffee table, and let out a long, dejected exhale. Did I misread Chelsea’s signs? Was all that smiling and laughter fake? Man, I could have sworn we were both feeling the same lightning bolt this morning. Apparently not.
As I’m having the thought, a distant elevator opens and I perk up with hope. But it’s only a big group of my teammates exiting the elevator in a large, concentrated pack.
“What are you doing over there, Maguire?” one of them shouts. “Come on, man! We’re going out till curfew!”
I glance at the stuff on the coffee table. Those two pints of ice cream are probably soup by now, and some random ladyon the sidewalk is going to get that long-stemmed red rose tied with ribbons the colors of the University of Chicago.
With a sigh that pains my soul, I slowly get up, resigned to my rejection. But before I’ve taken a step toward my oncoming teammates, they spread out from their packed configuration to reveal Chelsea walking behind them, dressed in jeans and a formfitting T-shirt that makes her look so hot, I have to consciously force my gaze upward to her face again.
“Chelsea!” I blurt, leaping up and waving my arms. “I’m over here!”
“You’re not coming with us?” one of my teammates asks, looking from Chelsea to me.
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, brother,” I mutter out the side of my mouth, making him snicker.
“Have fun, player. She’s hot.”
“Not so loud.”
I’ve had more than my fair share of fun since coming to school, so I’ve already acquired a bit of a reputation. But I wouldn’t want Chelsea overhearing him calling me a player, or her hot, and incorrectly thinking our insane chemistry this morning was anything short of genuine for me. Now granted, I’m outrageously attracted to this girl physically. That’s why I was staring at her in the first place from across the large breakfast room. Because I was like, “Gimme some of that.” But after talking with her, my attraction skyrocketed to a whole new level. The kind where I’ve now got sweaty palms and a racing heart to go along with the tingles in my dick. The kind where I’d settle for just getting to be around her again and chatting up a storm, with nothing more on the agenda than that, if only to be in her presence.
As my teammates file past me and out the glass double doors at the front of the lobby, I reach Chelsea in the middle of the space and bound to a stop like a kangaroo sticking alanding. “Hey there,” I say effusively. “Glad you made it. You look beautiful tonight.”
“So do you. I’m so sorry I’m late. We were taking team photos upstairs, and they wouldn’t let me leave.”
“I’m just glad you came at all. And you’re not that late, really. I was just ridiculously early.”What am I doing? Why did I admit that?
“I called down and asked them to tell you I was running late. Did you get the message?”
I scowl and shake my head. “No, but that’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. So, how’d it go today?”
Chelsea’s beautiful face lights up. “We advanced to the finals!”
I whoop and high-five her, and Chelsea does a cute little shimmy that turns me on while also making me laugh.
“Just like I said: You’re a killer, baby!”
“Well, it’s a team sport,” she says, blushing. “But I was most definitely an impact player today, thanks mostly to an expert mathlete like you being there in spirit with me.”
