Page 9 of Cheap Shot

When was the last time I noticed a guy’s eyes? Or felt warmth seep into my skin from his touch? Or had my heart rate pick up because of his proximity?

A year.

I should be scared, or nervous at the very least. I should be having some sort of negative reaction. That was what happened each time a guy touched me, but there was something in his expression that made me pause. It was a tenderness I wasn’t familiar with.

His eyes searched my face, giving me time to memorize this moment. He stepped closer, and I sucked in a breath. Anticipation, rather than dread, came next.

“You’re beautiful,” he said almost like he was confused. Like he didn’t know how he could find me attractive.

Maybe it was his compliment, or the lack of a panic attack. Maybe it was my way of taking back some control over my life, or the impossibility of this moment being real. But there was only one thing I wanted to do. Be brave.

I licked my lips, and his eyes followed the movement. He stepped closer, and I brought my hands up, wrapping them around the back of his neck. Without a word from either of us, we moved in perfect synchronization.

The moment our lips touched and I felt him against me, the sounds of the party faded away, and it was just us. Electricity whirled around us, sinking into my skin. I wanted this moment of peace to last forever, but reality slapped me across the face and I pulled back before turning and leaving before he could see the panic taking over me.

Chapter 4

Reid

I’d dreamed about her. I hated myself for it, but it wasn’t like I had control over my subconscious. The gorgeous, mysterious brunette had appeared in front of me like a mirage in a desert of monotony. Same people, same party, same forced smile. As much as I wanted a break from my daily stress, those parties usually ended up feeling like I was babysitting the other guys. I didn’t want any of us to get in trouble, so I was constantly watching them and making sure they stayed in line.

Then I saw her in the center of the patio, backlit by the unnecessary fire in the pit behind her. She seemed so out of place. One of the only faces I didn’t recognize. And she didn’t give off the vibes that she was on the prowl like most girls. It took a moment for my brain to accept that she was real, not a figment of my desires manifested. The first time I completely let go of my reservations and forgot about what I should do or how I should act, and it led to the greatest kiss of my life. An instant connection that felt like a piece of me was returning.

And now I was waxing poetic about a complete stranger.

She vanished before I could ask her anything. If she was a student, where she lived, when I could see her again, or her number. I asked a few of the guys if they knew who she was, but no one that was paying attention to us recognized her. I searched the house but never found her.

I didn’t even get her name.

The perfect kiss from the perfect girl, and I had no way of finding her.

I rolled over and sighed when I saw the time. I needed to hurry and get ready if I wanted to make it to class on time, but I didn’t. Nothing about Macroeconomics at eight in the morning, or ever, appealed to me.

Moments like this, I regretted my decision to take the college path rather than playing in the major juniors, but I’d been fifteen and had listened to the advice of my coach. He suggested I use my high school years to hone my skill and wait to draw the attention of scouts until I was performing at a higher level. I wouldn’t know if he’d been right until next summer at the NHL draft. Until then, I was working on my backup plan. A boring business degree to lean on if I didn’t make it into the pros or got injured early in my career. Going into business was my dad’s idea, and I couldn’t muster the energy to argue anymore. If my dream of playing professionally didn’t come true, I could go into the management side. Be an agent, or something equally painful, to remind me every day of how I came up short.

Maybe I should just go back to sleep since I’d clearly woken up in a foul mood.

Ethan’s alarm went off, and his hand appeared from under the blankets, patting down the edge of his desk until he found his phone and pressed a button to silence it.

“What are you waking up for?” I stretched my arms over my head as I sat up and dropped my feet to the floor.

“Sister coming,” he grumbled from under his pillow.

Ah. That made sense. There was no other reason good enough for him to move before ten. Unlike my parents, Ethan’s didn’t doubt he would make it to the league. They didn’t push him to get a “useful” degree, so he looked through the catalog our freshman year and picked the major with the least amount of required credits, history. It was broad enough that nearly any class could count as a relevant elective if he charmed his counselor into it. That left him with more free time than most and the ability to choose classes based on the time they started unlike the rest of us, who had to adjust our schedules to when a class was offered and pray it didn’t overlap with another necessary course.

I wanted to hate him for it, and most mornings I did, especially because he was just one of those people. The kind that always seem to come out on top. No matter how messy or impossible, things just fell into place for him. Even if the impossible happened and he didn’t get drafted, he’d probably end up with some incredible job just because he happened to be in the right place at the right time.

It was annoying, but at least, as his best friend, his luck sometimes benefitted me. Like the time we went to Pittsburgh to fix his phone screen, and as we were walking down the street to the bus stop, a large man stopped us and asked if we’d be interested in attending a VIP party. Ethan said yes, of course, and we ended up at the birthday party of one of the Steelers, rubbing elbows with the players and who’s who of the city.

I dragged my feet into our attached bathroom and took a quick shower before running a towel over my damp hair and calling it good for the day. I pulled on a pair of jeans and was debating which T-shirt to throw on when there was a knock on the door.

Ethan didn’t move, so I figured it was one of the guys from the team or our hall needing to borrow something.

“Yeah?” I answered as I swung the door open.

A tiny gasp sounded, and I froze when I saw the woman from last night. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a plain shirt that had no right looking that good on her. In the daylight, she was even more beautiful than in my dreams.

“You?” It was impossible. How had she found me? I hadn’t told her anything last night. I never had the chance.