Page 45 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
Going will make my dad happy, at any rate. He made sure I knew that I had tickets available at the box office whenever I wanted to go. And while I haven’t taken him up on it, at least it’ll come in handy tonight.
I slide in, and he shuts the door. I’m immediately enveloped by his cologne. It smells like some sort of sandalwood and citrus. I find myself breathing a bit deeper—until he gets in anyway.
“What are you majoring in?” he asks.
“English.” It’s not official, but I like it.
“You’re in a writing class with Andi?”
“Um…”
“She’s dating Ollie.” He glances over at me. “Well, maybe dating is too constricting. They fuck sometimes.”
“Lovely.”
“Just in case you had any ideas about him.”
I grit my teeth. “Definitely didn’t. Don’t.”
He chuckles.
The arena really isn’t that far—it’s around the corner from campus, which makes the drive seem silly. We could’ve walked and been here in ten minutes. It was built with the idea of being just for Framingham State. It’s the SJU hockey team that has to travel farther for practices. Something Carter occasionally griped about.
“Come on, I’m running late.” He’s out of the car in a flash, and he practically drags me out along with him. He keeps his hand locked around my wrist, going in through the metal doors and straight down the hall toward the locker room.
Most of the lights are off, like no one’s here for the game yet.
Instead of leaving me outside the locker room, he keeps me with him. We get inside the darkened room, and my heart all but lurches into my throat.
He’s not alone.
Oliver Ruiz stands with his hands on his hips, waiting for us.
“Girl of the hour,” he drawls. “Your month is up.”
My mouth dries. “That’s not exactly the terms of your bet.”
“We bet under.” Penn leaves me standing there, drifting back to flick the lock on the door. “And we don’t lose.”
Oliver watches me and tilts his head. “Are you scared?”
“I just don’t particularly see the need to screw one of you.” I cross my arms.
“Has Scarlett called you back?” he suddenly asks.
I narrow my eyes.
Oliver motions. From the showers comes Andi and Scarlett. They’ve got their arms linked together, their makeup perfect… they’re both looking at me like I’m an alien.
“Lettie?”
She doesn’t react, minus a nostril flare that says quite a bit. About how far I’ve fallen in her eyes, or how disappointed she is with me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m wondering how you could go so far off the rails, Sydney.”
She looks me up and down, and her lips press together. She’s given that look to many people who don’t make the cut in her eyes, too. I’ve just never seen it directed at me.