Page 8 of Puck Shots (Love The Game #6)

Cosmo slings his arm over the back of my chair, the heat from him instantly flowing through my thin shirt even without him actually touching me.

It’s like it’s being drawn in by some invisible force.

I’m a science major, so I know it isn’t an invisible force, but the way he leans in even closer to whisper in my ear now has me unable to think of the reason why it feels this way.

All I can focus on is separating the elements of his scent so that I might recreate it later.

Vanilla, coffee, wood, not pine, but ash maybe, and I think there is a touch of mint there, too.

Later, after the guys have told me all about the different things they want to improve, and I’ve heard the most important rules of the sport explained three separate ways. The conversation shifts to me.

“So you’re really smart then?” Hewie asks, his tone leaning more curious than anything else.

I shrug. “I guess.”

“That’s cool,” Cosmo replies in a way that doesn’t make me feel like he’s trying to let me know that it’s okay, more like he really thinks it is cool. But that can’t be right. He’s a super-hot hockey jock. Why the hell would he think anything about me is cool?

“And you play hockey at school for most of the year and then play more hockey through summer?” I ask, trying to shift the attention back to them. They all pretty much nod and agree.

“Is it the same for you with the booky science stuff?” Pete asks.

Well that didn’t work.

“I guess, sort of. I don’t go to a camp or anything, but I interned at my mom’s work over the summer. That was interesting.”

“What does she do?” Luka asks, and now I’m really wishing I didn’t open my big mouth because how do you explain that your mom spends her time sifting through crime scene evidence and analyzing blood and DNA while you’re just here trying to get through dinner without coming off as a total freak.

“Umm, she works for the police,” I say, and rather than having the desired effect of ending this conversation thread, they all seem really fucking interested now, Pete and Chang leaning forward on their elbows in anticipation of more information.

“Is she a cop?” Luka asks, and Cosmo laughs. “He said she works with the police, not that she is one, keep up.”

“Oh, right, so not a cop, is she like one of those psychics they hire to find missing people and bodies and stuff?” he asks next, and I can’t help but laugh.

“No, nothing like that. She’s actually a forensic scientist.”

“Cool,” Cosmo says as the waitress delivers the check. “So you got to like work on real crimes and stuff over summer?”

“Sort of,” I reply, and reach for my wallet.

“I got this,” Luka says, grabbing the cheque.

“I can pay for mine,” I offer, but Chang shakes his head, and Cosmo slings his arm over my shoulder again, sending a flurry of butterflies through my stomach.

The way his body heat radiates through me where we touch, makes me lose all focus for a moment.

Is he talking? I should be listening. Wait, what did he say?

“Huh?” I say, and Cosmo laughs.

“Luka always pays; his family is like private jet rich.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind, really. I can afford it.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” I reply, and that gets them all looking square at me again.

“You know what, you’re right. Pony up, boys. Luka, tonight dinner is on us,” Cosmo says, and I fish a twenty out of my wallet and add it to the pile on the table, then grab a five to put in for Luka’s meal, too, and Cosmo pulls back his arm and climbs from the booth.

“I’m headed back to the house, how about you guys?” he asks as I slide out to follow, but the rest of them shake their heads.

“Whistle Blue’s playing on stage in a bit. I’ll stay for a song or two and see you back there,” Luka says, and the guys all say the same and settle in, waving over the waitress to order a round of drinks.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Cosmo says, and I try not to show him how happy I really am at the thought of us walking under the stars together all the way back to the frat house.

He could have stayed when they said they were hanging out to watch a band, but he didn’t. He wanted to walk back with me. It’s no big deal, right? Except, I think I really want it to be?

We’re walking for a few minutes before he says anything. The silence is usually where I find my peace. In this setting, alone with Cosmo walking in the dark together back to the house, silence is making my heart race faster and my palms get all sweaty. I shove my hands in my pockets.

“So, how did you enjoy your prize?” Cosmo asks.

“I found it pretty interesting, actually.”

He laughs. “I’ve never really heard anyone describe hockey practice as interesting.”

“Well it was to me.”

“Was it the way I kicked everyone’s butts racing up the ice?”

“Yeah, it was. I’m not sure what you know about physics, but it’s about so many different things, and one thing is movement.

Like the way you move on the ice and how it differs from the way the other guys do.

I think I have you figured out,” I say, and he’s suddenly a lot closer than I thought, his arm brushing against mine as we walk and sending ripples of warmth through my thin jacket.

“I’m not sure I have you figured out just yet.”

“I’m not that complicated,” I reply, pushing my glasses back up my nose, and he nudges my side.

When I turn to look his way, I find him so close.

He holds my gaze for what feels like forever, those piercing blue-gray eyes boring into my soul.

I have to stop staring. I’ll freak him out, and he’s basically the only guy in the house that doesn’t look at me like they’re wondering what the fuck I am doing there.

I mean, I know his brother asked him to keep an eye out for me, as a favor to my brother, but this feels like more than a favor.

The toe of my shoe catches on a raised crack in the sidewalk.

Time slows, my arms flail as an audible gasp escapes my mouth.

My legs scramble to catch up with the forward motion of my body before gravity can take hold.

Then, his arms wrap around me, surrounding me in his warmth as we spin together in place, before down we go. Gravity almost always wins.

Only as I lay there on top of him, his strong arms still holding me tight, hovering mere inches above those gorgeous lips, I can’t help but think, maybe, just this once, I might be the real winner here.