He shifted his weight, stepping closer. I got a hit of his cologne—which smelled way too good considering who was wearing it—and my stomach twirled.
Something tugged between my legs in response, a stirring I hadn’t felt in ages. Not even with Luke.
“You seem a little flustered,” Chase said.
“More like repulsed.”
But if I was being honest, it was a bit of both. It was unsettling how my mind and body were at such odds when it came to him. Clearly, I was rebounding. And a little drunk.
He took a sip of his beer, sizing me up. “I hope you’re not a gambler. You have a terrible poker face.”
Irritation rippled through me, mingled with sudden self-consciousness. Heat surged to my cheeks. I hoped the lighting was dim enough to hide it.
“I think you’re the one who’s getting flustered.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, either way.” I cleared my throat, squaring my shoulders. “The terminal is closed. Indefinitely. Lack of qualified pilots.”
“Oh, I think you’d find me highly qualified.” His voice dropped even lower, the sound an impossible combination of gravel and silk.
My heart rate skyrocketed as heat from my cheeks flooded the rest of my body. For a moment, I gaped at him, lost for words. Then Noelle and Zara strolled back up to where we were standing. Zara had a puzzled expression on her face, oblivious to the innuendo train wreck she was walking straight into.
“I think my mother just sleep-FaceTimed me.” She gestured with her hands, palms up. “Is that a thing? Do you think Ambien can make you do that?”
Noelle shrugged. “I dunno. One time I ate an entire cake after taking an Ambien, and I didn’t even remember it the next day.”
Chase cleared his throat. “I’d better get back to the team.” He nodded in my direction, adding, “Think it over.”
Then he sauntered away, like he had innuendo-laden conversations with strange girls at bars all the time. No big deal.
Actually, he probably did.
“Think what over?” Zara’s eyes widened.
“Oh, nothing. Just the usual obnoxious Falcon trash talk.” I waved her off.
“Is that who he was?” Noelle asked, craning her neck as she watched him disappear into the crowd. She was on the periphery of the hockey world, only mildly aware of its most basic inner workings, and what she did know was solely due to her friendship with me.
“Yup.” I drained the last of my drink. “The enemy.”
“Hot enemy.”
Zara nodded. “I would climb him like a tree, B.”
“No,” I said. “He’s a jerk.”
A social media alert popped up on my phone. It was an update for The Sideline, a gossip site centered around our local college’s varsity athletes. If there was a rumor floating around, The Sideline would cover it. Everything from who was doping—allegedly—to who’d just signed a cushy pro contract.
I followed the stupid site solely due to my paranoia that someday, one of the stories would feature me. With the recent breakup, my fears might have finally come true. Hands shaking, I tapped the notification and bit my bottom lip while the page loaded:
The Sideline
Moving on so soon? Which newly single member of the Bulldogs was spotted getting cozy with a new flame at the afterparty tonight? Wonder what his ex thinks about getting 86’d and replaced in the span of a weekend.
My heart roared in my ears as I clutched my phone. Eighty-six was Luke’s number. Not that I needed the hint; he was the only Bulldog who was newly single.
He was with someone else already.
Didn’t even miss a beat.
But who could he have moved on with so quickly? Then it hit me…Sophie. Sophie Crier. I’d been suspicious about all those late nights since the beginning of the semester when they’d been “working on their marketing group project.” When I confronted him, though, Luke made me feel like a crazy, jealous girlfriend. But this explained everything, including his sudden about-face.
“Bailey?” Zara said. “Earth to Bailey?”
I stared at the screen, the display blurring. “Hold on a sec.”
Denial creeped in, tempting me like a siren’s call. Maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe The Sideline fabricated the story like they were sometimes known to do. It had to be fake, right? Luke would never do that to me. At least, not again.
I took a screenshot and sent it to Luke.
Bailey: Care to comment?
Three gray dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared. Disappeared…and didn’t return. Five minutes later, I was on the dance floor with the girls when my phone vibrated.
Luke: It’s not what it sounds like.
Which meant it was exactly what it sounded like.
Two could play at that game. But first, I was getting another drink.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 5
OceanofPDF.com
SURE, LET’S CALL IT THAT
Chase
Status update: I still hated clubs. So far, I was seriously underwhelmed by this XS joint. It was cramped and humid, and the DJ sucked. The beers were ridiculously overpriced too. Fifteen bucks for domestic? Fuck off.
Of course, I was here because we’d pulled off a shutout against the Bulldogs. That did take the edge off my current level of irritation. Seeing the look of defeat on Callingwood’s faces as they left the ice was damn near priceless. Suckers.
But the only interesting thing that had happened since we arrived was meeting that feisty blond chick from their school. That didn’t pan out, but I had other options. It was time to call it. I was too sober for this scene.
“You played amazing tonight,” the short brunette next to me said, batting her eyelashes. Her name was Morgan. Or maybe Meghan. I hadn’t caught it over the loud music, and I didn’t particularly care.
“You a big hockey fan?” I asked.
I was sure she knew next to nothing about hockey. She probably wasn’t even at the arena earlier. But my game was on point tonight, so in this case she’d guessed correctly.
She nodded. “Love it.”
“Tonight was tough, huh? Thought we were headed into extra innings,” I said. “It was close until we got that last touchdown.”
“Totally.” She made a pouty face. “I’m so glad you won.”
See? She didn’t know shit about hockey.
And people think I’m the superficial one.
Squaring her shoulders, she stuck out her chest to draw attention to her plunging lace V-neck dress and the plump cleavage it contained.“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”
She was wearing entirely too much makeup, which would probably rub off all over my sheets later. But she was cute enough, and she seemed like she’d be enthusiastic in the sack so why not?
“Uh, yeah. Hang on.” I looked over her shoulder for Dallas and Tyler but couldn’t find them in the crowd. Whatever, I was leaving with or without them.
Morgan/Meghan stroked my arm with her long, pointy red nails. “Sure.” Her hands were fucking freezing. I hoped they’d warm up before they got to my junk.
Before I could open my mouth to say anything further, a soft, warm hand landed on my other forearm.
“There you are.” The voice was sugar sweet.
I glanced to my left, discovering my failed pickup attempt from earlier. Long, honey-colored hair, a smattering of freckles along her nose, and eyes that were this crazy hazel-green that I couldn’t even begin to describe.
Callingwood.
Our eyes locked and she tilted her head. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She tucked a lock of caramel blond hair behind her ear and gave me a familiar smile, like we knew each other well. Like we hadn’t just met.
Morgan stepped aside, withdrawing her hand with a frown. “Is this your girlfriend?”
“Sure. Let’s call it that.” Callingwood smiled, shooing Morgan away like a pesky animal. She had a good six inches on Morgan, which added insult to injury.
“Seriously?” Morgan glared at me. “You’re an asshole. Good luck with this one, sweetie.” She huffed and spun on her red stiletto heel before disappearing into the crowd.
So much for having options.
“Um, hi?” I turned to Callingwood with a frown.