Page 18 of One-Time Shot
There he was…walking toward me, a duffel slung over his shoulder, his hair slicked back, his blue eyes sparkling, and jeans that hugged every inch of him—including his generous package and his?—
“Ready, Maloney?”
Gulp.
“Ready.”
CHAPTER6
MALCOLM
Bear Depot was walkingdistance from the rink, located on a tree-lined street at the bottom of the hill from campus. It was bound to be busy on a weeknight at the dinner hour, so I fully expected we’d have to wait to be seated. But no…
“Jett! How are you?”
He grinned at the pretty blond with a high ponytail and a purple beaded necklace under her crisp white oxford shirt. “Hey, Madison. I’m good.”
“Regular table?”
“Actually, can I get the private booth in the back corner tonight?” Jett squeezed my shoulder, tilting his chin in my direction. “My friend Malcolm and I are working on a science project, and we could use a little extra quiet.”
Madison spared me the briefest of sideways glances, most likely coming to the swift conclusion that my presence wasn’t newsworthy in the slightest. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Two minutes later we sat in a far corner booth, each browsing a menu I’d memorized two years ago, while I did my best not to stare at my dinner companion for the evening. I was well aware of Jett’s superhuman physical attributes and his positive reputation at Smithton, but my new perspective and proximity underscored those facts.
Jett filled space like no one I’d ever met. The man was huge. Enormous. He seemed to take up his entire side of the booth and spill onto the table in an avalanche of limbs and muscles.
Oh…and he was popular, too.
Jett must have stopped to say hello or at the very least exchange fist bumps with a dozen fellow students before sliding across from me, his back to the diner, shielded in part by a fake ficus plant.
“What are you gonna have?” Jett asked, tapping the laminated menu with his thumb.
“The cobb salad, dressing on the side. You?”
“Grilled chicken, veggies, gobs of fries,and…the cobb salad.” He looked up at the middle-aged waitress who appeared out of nowhere. “Did you catch that, Shar?”
“I did.” Shar grinned indulgently. “Now I just need your drink order.”
“Water, please,” I replied.
“Same for me.”
Shar nodded. “You got it, champ.”
“Let’s talk hockey, Maloney,” he said once we were alone.
I wrinkled my nose. “Give me a moment, please. I need to defrost before I think about icy endeavors.”
Jett chuckled. “Okay, but I’m curious about something. Where’d you get the radar equipment?”
“I ordered it online at Professor Finkwell’s suggestion.”
“He’s the one who encouraged the sporty angle to your thesis, eh?”
“Yes. He’s brilliant,” I gushed, pausing to thank our server for our waters. “Truly the brightest scientific mind of our generation. Sports might not be my forte, but I trust him implicitly. My goal or…dream, if you will, is for a portion of my thesis to be included in a new collegiate textbook. The professor indicated that mainstream pastimes make for more interesting reading, and that including research outside of my comfort zone might bring a new perspective that would appeal to the publisher.”
“Pushing the boundaries of your comfort zone is never a bad call.”