Chapter Fourteen
Ryder
I’d almost walked away—simply aborted the plan to help in the math lab even though I hadn’t been able to earlier this week. I’d been too busy pushing my body to the brink with punishing workouts geared toward getting this girl out of my head.
I’d wondered if Lindsay would come here after our fallout, and it was another reason I’d stayed away. For some reason, I thought a few extra days without seeing her would help dull my attraction, but the sight of her sent my blood pumping. Her defeated posture deepened the conflicted sensation tugging at my chest, and I couldn’t just leave her like that.
Sitting next to her after losing all the progress we’d made was a form of masochism, and apparently I was into that. That made me smile, because Lindsay had accused me of being a math masochist before.
“Let’s see what we can do about that.” I placed a palm on her open textbook and spun it to face me.
“You don’t have to.”
“Is this my world?”
Her forehead crinkled. “Math? I’m pretty sure we already know the answer to that.”
“Okay. Let me rephrase. Is this my hockey world?”
She swallowed, her eyes fixed on me. “No.”
“Then while I don’t have to help, I can, and I’m going to. We just won’t cross the streams. No worries.”
Since looking at her made my chest feel raw, I focused on the math. Facts that made sense. Answers that were right or wrong. I’d done so well this past week, training until I could hardly lift my arms and increasing my game on the ice. Coach even noticed, and the guy didn’t compliment lightly.
If I were smart, I’d let Lindsay take her chances with the other two tutors in the lab. Only I knew she’d never pass her class that way, and while things might not’ve gone the way I originally hoped, I didn’t want her to fail her class. Something told me she took failure about as well as she took hockey players.
In spite of sticking strictly to math, I became acutely aware of each time she shifted. Of her biting her lip. And okay, when she bent over her paper, I occasionally got a glimpse of cleavage.
We finished going through her assignment and she had the correct answers to all the problems—the last of which she solved without any help from me.
Her eyes flickered from her notebook to me, and just as I was about to take my leave so she could see I would stick to the homework-only arrangement, she said, “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell math?”
I dragged my finger diagonally across my chest, one way and then the other, crossing my heart.
“Cross your heart and hope to die?” she asked, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Are you in junior high?”
“Obviously.”
“That explains the squeaky voice.”
I lunged for her, and she was the one who squealed, earning us dirty looks from the dynamic math duo at the front.
I leaned in closer and my hand moved to her knee like it couldn’t help itself. Or maybe it was just lacking willpower. That was probably it. “What don’t you want me to tell math?”
“That maybe, just maybe, it’s not as big of a jerk-face as I thought.”
“Jerk-face? Now who’s in junior high?”
She laughed, the light, happy sound hitting me right in the chest. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth as more dirty looks were aimed our way.
“Come on. Before you get us kicked out.” I extended my hand without thinking, but having it out there, sure she wouldn’t take it, made a hollow sensation go through my gut. Here I was setting myself up to fall on my face again, and I didn’t think my pride could take it.
But then she took it and let me pull her to her feet. With her hand in mine that electric zip traveled up my arm and gave my heart a jolt.
We walked through the library and pushed out into the crisp night air. Lindsay sucked in a deep breath and grinned. “Finally. Spring’s been making a play to take over for a while, but that big bully winter kept beating it back. I expected that icy slap that usually comes along once the sun goes down, but I think this warmer night is proof that maybe spring is coming after all. Knock on wood.”
She glanced around and even took a few steps off the path to knock on a tree.
My eyes traced the line of her body, because they couldn’t help themselves. “I wouldn’t peg you as superstitious.”
“Only about the weather. And when it comes to sports.” Her smiled wobbled. “I mean, I used to be when it came to sports. Now I don’t… Well, I hardly watch any.”
The but especially not hockey was unspoken. I wanted to push, but that would be crossing lines. More than that, I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she forgot why she wanted to avoid hockey in the first place. Holding back the desire to do so was going over about as well as a ref who was on the opposing team’s payroll. Just keep her talking. “Well, it is a nice night.”
Great. Now we were talking about weather. Like strangers. I worried it’d always be this way now, her on one side of the line, me on the other. How was I supposed to avoid talking about hockey when I practically lived and breathed it? Then again, if it meant she and I could spend more time together, I could find other subjects. I was almost sure.
“You wouldn’t happen to…?” She cut her words short and shook her head. “Never mind. Thanks so much for tonight. The truth is, math only makes sense when I’m with you. Can you, like, come sit by me while I take my quizzes and tests?”
I spread my arms. “I do blend right into my surroundings.”
She laughed again as she tipped up her head to look at my face and then her gaze traveled all the way down to my feet. “Yep. Easy to hide for sure. I’ll just keep you in my pocket.”
That sounded fine to me, but I knew it’d come across cheesy as hell if I said so. While I wanted her to learn enough from our sessions to confidently take her tests, there was something about the way she said math only made sense when she was with me that made warmth flood my chest.
“Anyway, thanks again,” she said. “Guess I’ll catch you later.”
“Wait. What were you going to ask? I wouldn’t happen to what?”
Her scrunched nose made it clear she thought I’d let it drop, but as usual, when it came to her, I didn’t hold back, even when I knew better. “Why do you have to notice everything?”
“Maybe you should try being less hot. Less interesting and fun to talk to. Then maybe I wouldn’t.”
“You lie. You do the stoic thing sometimes, but I have a feeling not much escapes your attention.”
I neither confirmed nor denied, deciding to simply do the stoic thing—as she put it.
She licked her lips. “Fine. I just feel like you keep swooping in, and tonight you…honestly, I expected you to treat me differently.” She eyed me, like I might suddenly flip the switch and be a jerk.
“Why would I do that?”
She fiddled with the zipper on her backpack, her gaze focused on the movement. “Because of the party. Because of what you found out, and because of the way I left. I heard you and Brett got into it—and while I’m sure it was about more than me, I—”
“It was about you. I’m not proud that I lost my temper, but he needs to know he can’t treat people like that.” The residual jealousy and anger made me clench my fists. Yes, I hated that she’d ever been with the guy, but more than that, I was still pissed about how crushed she’d looked after he’d run his mouth. “He can’t treat you like that. I won’t let him.”
She put her hand on my arm, soothing the churning going on inside of me. “I worry about you.”
I scowled. “Against Brett? I’m trying not to find that insulting, because I assure you, I could kick his ass in my sleep.”
“In your sleep even?” She raised an eyebrow, the challenge in the arch clear.
“I stand by my statement.” I covered the hand she had on my arm, wanting to hold it there all night. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Still. Just…be careful. I don’t want you to get in trouble with the team, either.”
The fact that she cared enough to even tell me that sparked the hope I’d tried to abandon this past week. I told myself I was over my crush, but with Lindsay standing right in front of me, there was no way to be over anything, not when everything in me reached for her.
Did I really call our connection tiny the other night?
Clearly I’d been in denial.
It was consuming, which was why it was hard not to demand she admit she felt it, too. I thought I was a patient guy, but right now, holding back took way more effort than usual.
“Anyway, I just feel like I owe you, and I was wondering if you happened to have some time right now to maybe have dinner. With me.” She dropped her hand from my arm and went to fiddling with her zipper again—but this time the one on her jacket. “I’ll even cook—it’s the least I can do to say thanks.”
“I’ll take the thanks and the food, but only on one condition…”
Her shoulders tensed.
“Only if you realize that you don’t owe me anything. I’d much rather you hang out with me because you want to.”
“I want to,” she said. “I always want to. It’s just that I know I shouldn’t.”
Holy shit. Did she finally admit she likes spending time with me? The urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her returned stronger than ever, but I knew I was on a fragile edge, tip too far one way and I’d lose what progress we’d made.
Employing my self-control, I cupped her neck, and used my thumb to tip up her chin and bring her gaze to mine. “Dinner sounds good.”