Page 11 of Just my Puck (Love & Laughter #1)
LUCY
T he evening is perfect. The sky has fallen into a deep navy blue, interspersed with stars, and the air is cool and inviting after the day’s heat.
Glancing at Steele, sitting a little bit away from me, I feel warm and fuzzy inside.
He is so cute. Like a giant teddy bear. That rough exterior is all an act.
Well, not an act , but he needs the right person to bring out the fun side of him.
Feeling oddly proud that it appears to be me, I smile at him, hoping he will ask me on another date.
He is gazing up at the stars, propped up on his elbow, sipping his club soda.
He brought wine for me, which was sweet.
I’m not a huge drinker, but a plastic cupful with the picnic was perfect. My heart suddenly swells with emotion.
It's been a while since I went on a date and longer still since I connected with someone on this level. He gets me. I’m a hot mess, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, he finds it attractive.
I think he feels something more about this because he suddenly takes my hand in his.
His grip is gentle yet firm, and my heart skips a beat—right then and there, I know I like him and want to see him again.
He isn’t an arrogant jock like Jason Edwards, who expects every woman to fall all over him.
Cringing at my lousy choice of words, I push Jason from my mind.
“I’ll drive you back,” he says. “I’ve got a game tomorrow night. Do you want to come?”
“Oh!” I hadn’t expected that. What will I do? Sit in the stands all by myself like some weirdo?
“You can bring your friend from the library, maybe?” He suddenly sounds unsure of himself, which I probably exacerbated by not answering his question.
“If she says yes, I’ll come,” I say carefully; then the need to explain further hits my guts, and I start to babble. “I mean, I don’t want to sit there alone, and I don’t really know anything about hockey, so having someone there with me would be better. You know?”
His slow smile relaxes me. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I suggested you bring her.”
“Oh,” I say again, but this time feeling like an idiot.
“You’re so cute,” he says quietly, and it reminds me of his words yesterday. You’re gorgeous .
He stands and holds out both hands for me to grab before he hauls me to my feet as if I weigh nothing. It’s sexy as fuck . I’m pretty sure I drool a little and lick my lips, just in case.
“Steele?”
“Yeah?” He looks up from scooping up the basket in his massive hand.
His gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that is thrilling and scary. He feels it as well, but to my crushing disappointment, he backs off, dropping his gaze to the blanket so he can pull it up off the grass.
“This was perfect, thank you,” I murmur anyway.
“This was fun.”
Fun .
That word. There’s something about it that I don’t like.
It’s not that I don’t like to have fun, but said in the way it was, it almost has negative connotations.
Maybe it’s just me overthinking it. He did ask me to go to the game tomorrow, so he wants a second ‘date.’ I think.
Or was he letting me down easily by saying, ‘Come to the game where I won’t see you or speak to you all night? ’
Yikes.
I need my brain to shut itself off before I drive myself crazy.
“Better get you home before it's late.” He smiles and leads me to the Jeep. He chucks the stuff in through the open top and then gallantly opens my door for me.
Climbing up, I slip on an invisible banana peel and land sprawled over the seat with my ass in the air…right in front of his face.
What the fuck is this? It's like a comedy sketch! Lady Misfortune has come back to screw with me with a vengeance.
Groaning inwardly as I refuse to move for a moment in the hopes that it didn’t happen and time will rewind if I don’t acknowledge it, but it’s futile.
“You okay?” Steele asks, barely containing his laughter now.
“Fine,” I huff, pulling my knees up to haul myself into the seat. “You know me. I'm a walking disaster.” I manage to joke about it now as I avoid his gaze. He shocks me by grasping my chin lightly and turning my head to face him.
When our eyes meet, his are dancing with amusement, but not in a mean way. I giggle, trying to keep a lid on my nervous butterflies. Secretly, I'm hoping he'll lean over and kiss me good night. I wait for it. The anticipation nearly kills me, but he lets me go after a couple of seconds.
“So cute,” he murmurs. “And you’ve got a nice ass as well.”
“Oh!” I exclaim, my cheeks going hot. “Thank you?”
He snorts at the question in my tone. “Definitely a compliment.”
Relieved when he climbs into the driver’s seat, I give him my address and he sets off.
As we head away from the beach, I see him glare straight ahead, and his mood changes instantly.
He hunches his shoulders and grips the steering wheel tighter.
The atmosphere has gone frosty, and I wonder what I did and how to fix it.
Twisting the strap of my small bag, I chew the inside of my lip, wondering what to say or if to say anything.
“If you don’t want me to come tomorrow night, I won’t,” I utter, needing to say something to break the tension.
“No, I want you there,” he says, but his tone has changed. It’s clipped and cooler.
“Okay, maybe then,” I whisper.
He pulls up outside my apartment building, and I wait for a beat to see if he will say anything else before climbing out. “See ya, then,” I mutter.
“Bye, Lucy,” he says, meeting my gaze and giving me a smile that appears genuine, but who knows at this point? “I’ll wait until you’ve gone in.”
Nodding at the apparent dismissal, my heart plummets. We’d had such a good time, and then I had to remind him that bad luck follows me around everywhere, and now he hates me.
Disappointed doesn’t quite cover it, but I should be used to it by now.
The thing is, I really like him, and even if he has changed his mind about me, I still want to show him my support as a friend.
Against my better judgment, I set a reminder to ask Patty to go with me to the game tomorrow and hoping I’m not setting myself up for an even bigger humiliation by returning to the scene of the crime.