Page 31

Luka

Me: Did you get my package, Kitty?

Lily: Kitty? Really?

Me: Yeah, it’s a classic, and I know how much you love those.

Lily: Nix the Kitty, Loverboy.

Me: Ohhhh… Do I get a nickname too? I can work with Loverboy. Kind of makes me sound like a pool boy, but I can dig it. I’ll clean your pool ANY time, Miss T.

Lily: You dork! Loverboy is from Dirty Dancing! It’s a cult classic. Patrick was def not a pool boy.

Me: That’s right! What about Lovergirl? We can have matching nicknames.

Lily: Wait, what does the T stand for?

I smirk as I type out my answer.

Me: Tutor

Lily: Lame.

Me: Which one is Lame? Our matching nicknames or Miss T? Because I’m rather fond of Miss T.

Lily: Both… Both, Luka.

My laugh catches me off guard because it’s so loud and unabashed.

Me: Don’t you know I’m one of the cool kids?

Lily: Oh, I know. Luka Russo, the King of Hart U in all his hockey glory. I’m SO lucky to have you as a boyfriend. I could just pinch myself!

I can sense her sarcasm through the text since Lily and I have been texting anytime we have free time between classes, practice, and late into the night. I haven’t seen her in person since we made things official when I unexpectedly showed up at her grandmother’s place last week. That needs to change because this whole not seeing her thing is really starting to bother me.

Having her in my arms and lap this past weekend is all I can think about. I close my eyes, and I see her on that porch, the sunset her backdrop, making her look ethereal. I hope she’s coming to my game tonight because I have big plans for us after.

Me: That’s right, Lollipop. I’m what dreams are made of.

I can’t even use the tutoring as an excuse to see her because my grades have been slowly but steadily coming up since I implemented the different ways to study that she showed me. However, I’m not above fibbing a little to make her think I need an impromptu study session.

Not a bad idea if I say so myself . Hopefully, it won’t resort to that, but I won’t cross it off my list of possibilities .

Speaking of possibilities… I’ve had a running list of nicknames in my head all week. I’ve tossed out the ones that were too cheesy or over the top—since she would hate that—and writing down the ones I like and want to test out.

Lover doctor, bookworm … No, too cheesy.

I slice up an apple to add to my shake. Apple? Peach? Plum? Pumpkin? Cupcake? Hash brown. I laugh because I know damn well she would hate a food-related nickname.

Daisy, Tulip … No, that’s just a different flower from her actual name.

Lily Bug, Lolly, Lilac? Ohhhh, bunny!

I grab my phone and pull up the notes app to quickly add the new possibilities to my running list. I smirk while wondering if she’ll actually like one or if she’ll give me a hilarious and exasperated response that will no doubt make me laugh.

I put my phone down on the kitchen counter as I continue to make my pre-ritual protein drink packed full of greens, nuts, Greek yogurt, and protein powder. I make it before every game. I like to think it gives me energy, but at this point, who knows? It doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t dare mess with a gameday ritual. That shit is sacred. I’ve been making it for years, and so far, it hasn’t failed me.

Rowan walks into the kitchen just as I pour the green mixture into my cup.

“Got one for me, bro?”

I roll my eyes because he asks every time, knowing damn well I make enough for both of us. I slide his cup over to him as I finish pouring mine. I look at the clock and realize we need to get going if we’re going to make it to the game in time. I grab my phone and slide it into my pocket after checking for a response from Lily. There isn’t one.

“That’s weird,” I mumble.

“What’s weird?”

I hesitate, my protectiveness of her spiking for some reason. “I don’t know…”

Part of me thinks speaking my fears aloud gives them some kind of power, that saying anything at all is speaking it into existence and making it a reality. Still, I’ve never believed superstitions like that. Unless they involve hockey.

I’ve never really done the whole “having a girlfriend” thing, so I’m unsure if this is normal or not. “Is it normal to not see your new girlfriend?”

Rowan places the cup down on the counter, his mouth puckered in a frown. “What do you mean? I thought it was going great between the two of you.”

“So, it’s not normal?”

My stomach rolls over, and it feels like my protein drink might make a reappearance. Maybe I’ve got this shit all wrong, and she isn’t as into me as I thought she was. In my opinion, it’s hard to fake that kind of chemistry, but maybe she decided she doesn’t want to date the dumb jock.

“Spit it out, will ya? You look ready to strangle the cup,” Rowan says between gulps of his protein shake.

“She’s been acting weird ever since she came back from her grandmother’s. She’s pushed off every study session. She said she had a test come up, or she got called in for a shift at the coffee shop.”

I run my hands through my hair. I’m worried I’ve fucked up and frustrated at myself that I might have done something to upset her.

“Should I be worried? I know she’s busy, so I don’t think she’s intentionally avoiding me. She seems fine when we talk on the phone or through text messages.”

I even had to send one of my jerseys for her to wear to my game tonight because I could never work out being able to actually see her to give it to her in person. When she was free, I had practice, and when I was free, something came up on her end.

Rowan seems deep in thought before he finally answers me. “I think it would be good for the two of you to sit down and talk about shit.”

“Talk about shit?” That’s all he’s got? Talk about shit?

“Yeah, that’s what you’re supposed to do in a healthy relationship. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Lord, help me. I’m taking relationship advice from a perpetual bachelor—a dude who has never had a serious girlfriend. We’re two peas in a pod over here. The blind leading the blind.

I look at the clock and realize we need to take this convo on the road. I grab my keys and hockey bag and say, “We need to go. ”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, but I’m more worried about my friend having a full-blown emotional breakdown because the first serious girlfriend he’s ever had seems to be ghosting him.”

I stop dead in my tracks, my hand dropping just centimeters from the front doorhandle before I spin on my feet. “You think she’s ghosting me?!”

Rowan awkwardly laughs as he grabs my bicep to pull me along and opens the door for me. I’m still in the doorway, immobile and stunned as shit. Could she really be ghosting me? She’s responded every time I’ve texted. Sure, maybe it took her a while, but she always responded. I fumble for my phone in my pocket and pull it out.

I need confirmation that Rowan is full of shit because she always responds to me, and I’m going to prove it to him right now. I unlock my screen, and my fucking heart falls into my stomach when I see there are no unread messages from Lily.

She never said she was coming tonight. I wonder if she changed her mind and doesn’t know how to tell me. I never thought of the possibility that she might not want this as much as I do. I swallow thickly, pushing down the urge to throw up.

The last thing I want to do is push myself on her. I’m all in, but that doesn’t mean shit if she isn’t as well.

Rowan slaps me on the back, catapulting me out of my tumultuous thoughts. “We’re late. Let’s go.”

There is nothing I can do about it now, but as soon as my game is over, I plan to find Lily and ask her if she wants this as much as I do.

I just hope her answer doesn’t destroy me.

Oh, and remind me never to ask for relationship advice from Rowan Pierce again.