Page 38 of Over the Line

“Having paid to insure my own teenage drivers…” I put my hand to my chest. “I think I’d be paying a cardiologist’s copay for a while after that.”

He nodded. “Exactly. So I figured I could absorb the loss more than they could.”

“That’s… That’s a really considerate thing to do. I bet they were seriously grateful.”

“They were, and I think he learned a valuable lesson. Just… without financially crippling his family, fortunately.”

“Lucky kid. Bet his parents have reminded him repeatedly that the next car he hits won’t be driven by someone so generous.”

Liam chuckled, and though it was hard to tell in this light, I thought he blushed.

From there, we shot the shit about hockey, Pittsburgh, and some of the team’s upcoming road trips. Though Sewickley was twenty-five minutes from where I lived in the South Hills, it felt like only a fraction of that time before I was directing him into my complex’s parking lot. Disappointment wound itself tight in the pit of my stomach as I took off my seat belt.

“Anyway, uh…” I smiled. “Thanks for the lift. And for having me over. It was a great time.”

He returned the smile, oblivious to what that did to my ability to think. “Don’t mention it.” I was about to open the door, but then he cleared his throat and fidgeted in the driver seat. “Listen, uh, before you go…” He met my gaze in the low light. “Some of the guys and I—we golf a lot when we’re in town.” He scowled at the rain splattering on the windshield. “When the weather’s good, I mean.”

“Yeah, this wouldn’t be a great time for it.”

“No. No, it wouldn’t.” He laughed, and he sounded… nervous? After a moment, he said, “But when the weather is nice—shit, I didn’t even ask if you golf. Do you?”

“Not very well, but as long as no one’s expecting me to try out for the PGA…”

This time, his laugh was a lot less nervous, and suddenly there was a lot less air in this car. God, he made me dizzy.

“Trust me,” he said, still chuckling, “nobody will have that expectation. We all have pretty high handicaps.” He scowled, though there didn’t seem to be any real heat in the expression. “Except for Barns. Christ.” He let his head fall back against the seat. “We’re about to start giving that clown a negative handicap just to even the field.”

“Isn’t that what the handicap is supposed to do?”

“In theory. But he’s just so damn good.” Liam tsked. “Jackass.”

I snorted. “Okay, even if I didn’t care about golf, I think I’d want to go with you guys. The shit-talking has got to be off the charts.”

“Well, yeah.” Liam grinned. “We’re hockey players. Chirping is what we do.”

“Sign me up, then.”

“Sweet.” He took out his phone and unlocked the screen. “Add yourself to the contacts and I’ll text you.”

Is he…

Is he asking for my number?

To play golf, Garrett. Calm down.

I recovered my dignity enough to enter my name and number. When I handed back the phone, he sent me a text with a golf emoji.

“There.” He shot me a smile that somehow managed to be both mischievous and shy. “Now you have mine too.”

“Yeah, I do. I, uh…” I pocketed my phone and gestured through the blur of rain to my apartment building. “I should get going. But, um, shoot me a text if you guys want someone to tag along on the golf course.”

He looked genuinely pleased by that idea. “I’ll do that. Have a good night.”

“You too. And thanks again for the lift.”

“Any time.”

I didn’t let myself hold his gaze a second longer or I was afraid I’d say or do something stupid. Instead, I got out and jogged from the SUV to the door. Once I was out of the rain, I turned around and waved at him. He smiled and waved back.