: Chapter 13

“

o what’s the deal with you and your hotel roomie?” Gage asks as we’re changing back into street clothes after practice.

“Her name is Cammie,” I correct.

“What’s the deal with you and Cammie?” He stresses her name.

“I like her.”

“I figured that with the way you were sucking face in the hall. You sure it’s a good idea to hook up with one of the girls on our floor? Sort of limits your options unless you’re aiming for awkwardness when you move on to the next one.” He pulls a shirt over his head, covering the tattoo on his chest.

“I’m not planning to move on to the next one.” I spray deodorant under my arms, then give it an extra courtesy spritz for good measure.

Gage stops messing with his hair to gape at me. “Dude.”

“What?”

“We’re two months into four years of fun times.”

Brody rolls his eyes.

Gage points an accusing finger at him. “Don’t even. Your monk status is ninety percent of the reason girls won’t leave you alone. Mac at least flirts with them.”

“I don’t want to spend the next four years racking up a ridiculous number of one-night stands,” I say, and mean it. I thought a lot about what Cammie said about my reputation and it just isn’t what I want for myself.

“This,” Brody agrees.

“But I need a wingman at parties!” Gage argues. “Someone other than Mac because all the girls want him more. Please. I beg of you.”

“You’ll be fine without a wingman,” I assure him. “Honestly, the last couple of months were fun, but it gets old fast.”

Running into former hookups sucks. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and I started to feel used. I want more than someone to get off with. I want to watch movies and study and hang out with Cammie while she writes a new chapter as much as I want to feel her lips on mine. I want her to be my person, and I want to be hers.

“You guys suck.” Gage stuffs his hair supplies in his backpack. “I gotta roll. I have tutoring in fifteen.” He flips us both the bird and takes off.

Brody and I finish getting dressed and leave the locker room. I check my phone as we step outside. “I’m meeting up with Cammie for coffee and walking her to class,” I tell him.

“Good,” Brody replies. “Have you asked her on a date yet?”

“Isn’t coffee a date?”

“I mean, I guess. But you’ve sort of jumped over the whole coffee-get-to-know-you phase since you’ve already spent the night together.”

“So you think I should take her on a date date?” I run a hand through my hair.

He side-eyes me. “Yeah, you definitely should.”

“I haven’t been on a date since the beginning of senior year,” I admit.

“I know this. And taking a girl to Mickey D’s doesn’t count as a real date.”

“It felt like a date. I paid,” I say defensively.

“For fries and a milkshake.”

“It seemed legit at the time,” I grumble.

He exhales his annoyance through his nose dramatically. “Take her out for dinner and go to a movie or something. Spend some time with just her. And don’t be in a rush to get her back into a bed.”

I blow out a breath. “What if she wants to get back into a bed with me?”

“You haven’t had sex yet, right?” I didn’t give Brody details, but he knows things happened.

I shake my head. “We just did other stuff.”

He nods his approval. “Do more other stuff. And always take care of her first. My brother may not have been the best role model when it came to how he handled relationships until he and Rix became a thing, but that was the rule he stressed. Always take care of her before you get yours. Give before you get. He also says it’s important to listen first and react second.”

“It’s solid advice.”

“And make sure you take her somewhere the team doesn’t go. You don’t want to run into a former hookup when you’re on a date with Cammie,” Brody advises.

“Good call.”

We arrive at the coffee shop and Brody continues to his next class. I wait outside until Cammie arrives. She’s wearing a black Lord of the Rings hoodie and a pair of wide-leg jeans. She looks fucking adorable.

A beautiful smile lights up her face as she approaches. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” When she’s close enough, I tug on the loose end of a backpack strap and pull her into me.

She tips her head up and I bend, but she leans away. “What are you doing?”

“Saying hi.”

“People are going to think we’re a thing.”

“Good. I want us to be a thing.” I stroke her cheek with a single finger. “Can I please kiss you?”

“Right now?” She glances around.

“Yeah. Right now.” She’s so cute. I can’t remember the last time a girl didn’t want to kiss me in front of everyone. It’s refreshing to be wanted for more than my athlete status.

“Okay?”

“You don’t sound very sure about that.”

Her tongue darts out. “You can kiss me.”

I dip down and brush my lips over hers. Little electric bursts of pleasure zing through my veins. I slide my fingers into her hair and tilt my head, my tongue stroking along the seam of her lips. They part on a soft gasp and she grips my shirt, tipping her head, letting me in. I sink into the kiss, into the feel of her lips on mine, relishing the softness and the sweet aftertaste of strawberry on her tongue.

“Get a room, Lovett!” one of my asshole teammates shouts as he passes by.

Cammie pushes on my chest and steps back, quickly pulling her hood up to hide her face.

I flip off my teammate, then wrap an arm around her shoulder and guide her into the coffee shop. I’m hit with the scent of slightly burnt cheese and coffee. And I’m suddenly starving. Which is a common occurrence.

We get in line and Cammie fidgets nervously.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Great. Awesome. Good.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” She gives me two thumbs-up.

A couple of girls and a guy stop to say hi. One of them wishes me good luck at the game tonight.

“How was your first class this morning?” I ask.

“Good. It was good. Except for the pop quiz. That wasn’t awesome, but I think I did okay. How about yours? Oh wait, you had practice, not class. How was practice?”

“It was also good. One of the guys put a poster of Scarlet Reed in Gage’s locker and his face turned bright red before I watched him secretly fold it up to save for later.”

Two more people interrupt to say hi. And then two more.

“Everyone knows you,” Cammie whispers.

I shrug.

We reach the counter, and I order half the food from the display case and a quarter sweet latte and turn to Cammie. “What would you like?”

She seems surprised by the offer. “Oh, I can get my own.”

I tip my head and arch a brow. “I would like to get your coffee this morning, please, Cammie.”

“I would like a caramel choco-latte with extra whipped cream,” she says, somewhat grudgingly.

“Anything to eat?” I press.

“No thanks. I’m good.”

I hand over my debit card and pay for the order, then stand off to the side and wait for everything to be ready. More people come up and talk to me, including a girl who was hanging out with us at the hotel. Cammie pulls her hood up and digs her phone out of her pocket.

I don’t want to mess this up. My palms start to sweat. I don’t know the girl’s name, but I introduce Cammie. It works. She tells us her name is Hayley and we chat for a few minutes about classes and our upcoming game against Kingston U.

Finally, they call my name and I grab the armload of snacks and my drink, and Cammie takes hers. She dips her finger into the whipped cream, piled so high she can’t put a lid on it yet, and makes eye contact with me as she sucks it clean.

The image of her lips wrapped around my cock, her face cupped in my hands while I fucked her mouth, slams into my brain like a freight train.

My hard-on is instantaneous. I barely manage to contain my groan. I give her a look.

She arches a brow. “What?”

I lean down until my mouth is at her ear. “I know how talented that pretty mouth is.”

I straighten and her smile grows devious.

Taking Brody’s advice might not be the worst idea. Especially if other stuff includes Cammie’s sweet, gorgeous mouth.

I follow her out of the coffee shop, thankful my hoodie covers the growing problem behind my fly. She dips her finger in the whipped cream and sucks her finger clean again.

“Now you’re just torturing me,” I grumble.

“Yup.”

“How’s the writing? Did you finish another chapter? I want to know if the king of the dwarves knows how to help them.”

“I’m working on one now,” she replies.

“When can I read it?”

“When it’s finished. But I can send you a little snippet later.” We stop in front of the English building. “This is me. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Thanks for the torment.” Now’s my chance. I can ask her to hang out. But I have a scrimmage tonight. It’s the perfect opportunity. “So I have hockey tonight⁠—”

“You’ll be great.” She nods and sips her drink.

“Maybe you want to come watch me play?” I’ve read her fanfic, which she loves to write. It would be cool if she came to see me do what I love, too.

She shuffles from foot to foot. “Oh. Um. I have this big assignment I’m working on.”

“Right. Homework is important.” I try to be cool even though it feels like rejection. I want her to like me as much as I like her.

“But another time might work,” she tacks on. “And you can always knock on my door when you get back tonight. If it’s not too late.”

“For sure.” My bag is full of snacks, but my appetite has disappeared.

“I should get to class.” She thumbs over her shoulder, bites her lip, then closes the distance between us, pushes up on her tiptoes, and presses her lips to the edge of my jaw. “Thanks again for the coffee.” She waves and nearly slams into someone when she turns around.

She pulls her hood up and rushes up the steps.

She kissed me. And invited me to knock on her door later tonight. It’s progress. And I’ll take it.