Page 13 of Best Things in Life

“Of course,” Sarina says. “Hockey means everything to you. If they opened up your chest they’d find a fucking hockey puck where your heart is supposed to be.” Summer pats my leg in consolation and it’s a damn shame her touch does nothing for me. It’s a fucking damn shame I want to pick her up and remove her from between me and Sarina so I can show Sarina what my heart is made of. But I fist my hands and clench my teeth in an effort to keep my cool.

“He’s not that bad, Sarina.” Summer winks at me. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter now that you’re with Bigs.” I could swear Summer is feeling Sarina out, testing how she really feels, kind of like I’ve been doing.

Fuck—she’s still after Bigs. She might really be into him. I know they had a class together last semester and might have gotten cozy over a joint project. Now I wish I paid more attention to gossip, but that’s what Dooley is for. He’ll know all about it.

Sarina snorts and then smiles, waving her hand, looking away, pretending to pay attention to the baton twirlers on the field. Dooley shoves my back and I turn to see Bigs returning with a tray of beer and food. Summer stands.

“I suppose you want your seat back.” She beams. He beams back.

“You’ve met my girl, Sarina?” They’re stuck in a tight space at a standoff and having to dance around each other and I don’t mind watching because I can see the spark of attraction between them as if it’s lit up in neon. A glance at Sarina tells me she notices too, with one brow arched in interest more than annoyance. But my girl Sarina doesn’t hold back on her irritation for long and stands, stepping out into the aisle and taking hold of Summer’s arm to pull her that way, away from Bigs. Summer gives Sarina a cool look and takes her arm back.

“Yeah. We all had an interesting chat,” Summer says. She looks at us all and waves. “See you all later—at BMOC House for the football party, right?”

“We’ll be there,” I say. “Can’t wait.” I’m going heavy on the sarcasm here and Bigs catches it and shakes his head again. I’m going to have to convince him somehow he doesn’t need to feel sorry for me, that I’m over Sarina. Right after I convince myself.

Chapter 6

NATE

Before the game is over—because there was no doubt who was winning this one from the kickoff—I head down to the locker rooms to wait for Bane to give him a ride back to BMOC House. We’ll eat and then set up for the party, our annual kickoff bash for the football season. Eight of the twelve guys in the house are football guys, three of us hockey players, and there’s one lacrosse player, a crazy dude I wouldn’t want to mess with and I’m no slouch.

Bigs is supposed to help with the party setup, but I hope to fuck he takes Sarina out for dinner somewhere. I charged Dooley with strong-arming him in case he doesn’t like the idea. The less time I’m in the odd couple’s company, the better. Because if there was one thing I observed during the agonizing time with them at the game, it’s that they are like oil and water. Second thing—she has him by the balls and he’s so smitten he doesn’t care, doesn’t fight back—maybe even enjoys being led around by his short hairs.

Bane’s the first one out of the locker room, his hair still dripping, and he shoves past the media, giving the least amount of commentary he can get away with. Which is fine because they really want to talk to the running backs, since they spent three quarters pushing the ball down the field on the ground.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. “Where’s Bigs and Dooley?” I fall in step with him and we get through the crowd, as he high fives a couple dozen people along the way. I’m starting to feel like his fucking bodyguard by the time we get to the exit.

“They’re going out to eat, but we don’t need them. We got this.”

In the parking lot, I break away and get to my car first and jump in, slamming the door because I don’t want to hear whatever shit he’s going to give me.

“You set it up, didn’t you? Told them not to show up.”

“You flatter me, assuming I have some kind of magical persuasive powers. Which I don’t.”

“Don’t fuck with me. It was supposed to be all hands on deck. This party is our biggest of the year, sets the standard, and has to be—”

“All the bomb. I know all about it, how you have the reputation of the house to worry about and tradition, the fucking legacy of—”

“Fuck you.”

Grinning, I start the car and step on the gas, not quite leaving rubber. I’m in a mood. He remains silent.

“Was it something I said?” I say, enjoying getting under his skin. He gives me the finger. “No need to be redundant.

“No, but you’re on duty all night including cleanup.”

I shrug. “Fine with me. Not like I plan on drinking more than one or two beers. I’m in training.”

“So aren’t we all, asshole.”

“I don’t know what you’re worried about. Don’t you have a dozen freshmen on the team reporting to help out?” He doesn’t say anything because it’s true and I wonder what’s really bothering him. So I throw him a bone. “Emily says hello.” His head snaps around.

“What do you mean?” He looks more interested than panicked. I shrug.

“She said to say hello. I ran into her on my way to the locker room. She’s a helluva girl, that one.” Then I decide to go for broke and test what he really thinks of her. “I bet she’s a good kisser with that mouth of hers—”

“Shut the fuck up.” His growl is matched with the face of a man who wants to commit murder. Testing complete. I have my answer. No need to poke the angry bear any further.