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“Once or twice.” His voice comes out husky, which absolutely doesn’t help calm me down.
“And have I mentioned I love you?”
He startles a bit. “Uh, I think this is the first time.”
“Of many.” I smile.
As if reading my mind, he leans down for another kiss. Except he stops just as our lips barely touch. His eyes are at half-mast as they bore into mine. His voice envelops me like warm velvet as he says four words.
“I love you too.”
Simple words. Life-changing, nonetheless.
Just as he presses his lips against mine again, a sudden bang echoes around the arena.
We jump away from each other, as if what we were doing wasn’t obvious. Without Max, I have a hard time keeping upright on legs that have turned to noodles. Only the boards behind me save me from an embarrassing tumble. He isn’t as lucky. One of the best center forwards of the league falls on his behind like a child just learning to skate.
His buddy Nate explodes in laughter. “Whoa, I can’t believe what my eyes are witnessing.”
“Stop sounding so jealous, Garcia,” I shout back at him. But from this close, Max can see how I’m about to lose it too. Especially if he keeps scowling like that.
Max gets up and dusts the slush off his delectable bubble butt. “You’re early, man.”
“So are you all,” says a different voice behind Nate Garcia.
He steps aside to let more people through. At the forefront, sitting on a conference chair pushed by Chelsea and Brit, is none other than JT. She looks every bit the queen on her throne, even though her leg in a cast protrudes forward almost comically.
Right behind her is Max’s other friend, Conor Mahoney. He shakes his head as if he doesn’t approve of the arrangement. But Chelsea and Brit are the queens of chaos, and I have a strong feeling that Nate Garcia gives them a run for their money.
“I’m really excited to witness this special training session brought to us by our two captains, who look like they really want to improve relations between the two teams.” JT smirks at us.
The innuendo is not lost on anyone, especially on the still-cackling Nate. “Oh, they’re working on those relations, all right. And I got it all on the record.” He puts his phone back in his pocket.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll smash that phone against your face if I have to.”
“She will,” JT confirms with a nod.
“And we’ll probably help.” Chelsea smiles.
“Uh, please don’t.” Brit clears her throat when all eyes turn to her. She lifts a shoulder delicately. “I have a date with Nate tonight, and I’d like to be able to make out with him without any blood in the way.”
“The what?” My jaw drops.
“Damn you.” Conor shakes his fist. “How is everyone getting dates but me?”
“Stop being so shy and just ask someone out, man” is Max’s advice to his friend.
The other guy turns to JT and Chelsea. Which turns out to be a bad plan when Chelsea tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder and announces, “Sorry, dude. I already have dates lined up all the way till graduation.”
From her chair, JT says, “And you’re not my type, so don’t even try.”
Conor throws his hands up in the air. “I give up.”
“Want me to introduce you to my roommate? She’s newly single,” I say, but he still looks sullen at my suggestion.
Max is still chuckling as he says, “Hey, it’ll happen when you least expect it.”
Don’t I know it?
