Page 8

“Well, a promise is a promise,” I mutter under my breath as I watch Savannah cross the parking lot.

With her shoulders hunched, she seems lost in her own world, and I almost feel bad that I’m about to ambush her.

She’s left me no choice, though, since she ran out of our study group without so much as a goodbye.

The tickets in my hand flutter with the wind, practically shoving me forward, and my sneakers scuff against the concrete as I trail behind her like the world’s most obvious stalker.

Savannah moves with purpose, gripping her bag tightly as she keeps her head bowed.

Always hiding from the world.

When she reaches her car, an old sedan that’s seen better days, I know it’s my only chance. “Hey, Savannah!” Her body stiffens, her fingers twitching on the handle as she slowly turns.

Her green eyes are wide and confused, and I think a little hesitant. There’s something I can’t read behind her expression that makes my heart do a weird stuttering thing. Either way, her reaction punches me right in the chest with brass knuckles I never saw coming.

“Hey, Cade,” she says cautiously, her voice cracking a little.

I walk closer, keeping my hands in my sweatshirt pocket so I don’t spook her any more than I already have. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” I stop a few feet away, trying to make myself look as unthreatening as possible. “I just—”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Is there something you need? Figured you asked all the questions you could over the last couple of hours.”

I let out a quiet laugh. I might’ve asked her one too many questions in our study group, hoping that would somehow make it easier to ask her out again.

It didn’t. She’s still as hard to read as those last few chapters of our economics book.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I was a little nervous.” Understatement of the fucking century.

How many times can I ask her out before I take the hint that she’s not interested?

“Nervous?” she repeats, tilting her head slightly, her grip on her bag relaxing just a fraction. That’s got to be a good thing, right?

I shrug, pulling out the tickets from my pocket. “I was, uh, wondering if you might want to come to my game tomorrow night?”

“Your game?” She frowns, her eyes flickering between me and the tickets as though I’ve lost my mind.

Maybe I have. I’ve never chased a girl like this before.

Usually, they’re the ones trying to brand their names across my chest and fighting for exclusive rights to my Friday nights.

With Savannah, the need to know about her has grown like an addiction, getting worse with each hit of her presence.

There’s something lurking beneath her oversized hoodies and downcast eyes, and I need to know what it is before it drives me clinically insane.

“Yeah. It’s a big one.” I shift my weight slightly, bracing myself for the rejection I know is coming. “I figured maybe you’d want to check it out. You know, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Why did I sound like a pre-pubescent teenager asking his first crush to the homecoming dance?

Voice cracking, palms sweating, the whole pathetic package.

It’s because she’s different. I can’t pull my usual shit with her.

Savannah is fragile, like blown glass that might shatter if I breathe too hard in her direction.

Every word needs to be carefully weighed and measured before it leaves my mouth, like I’m defusing a bomb instead of asking a girl to a hockey game.

“What sport do you play?”

I can't help the laugh that bursts out of me like a surprise sneeze.

Seriously? I knew she didn't pay much attention to things happening around her, but this just handed me one of the biggest reality checks of my pampered existence.

As arrogant as this sounds—and I know it does—I've never not been recognized around here.

Invisibility has never been my problem. My face has been plastered across campus since freshman year, and it's been especially unavoidable since Scotty joined the team and doubled our fan base with his boy-band good looks and forced social media addiction. “Hockey.”

She blinks. “Oh. Okay.”

“The games are a lot of fun. There’s music, and the mascot, Crushie, comes out and does a little dance.”

She eyes the tickets again, her expression unreadable. I can’t tell if she’s actually considering it or just trying to find a way to say no.

“Two tickets? Are you sitting with me?” she asks, her voice cautious.

“No. I’ll be playing.” I meet her gaze directly, slowing my words since I don’t think I’m being clear enough. “I want you to watch me.”

She takes in a sharp breath and stares at the tickets, then looks up at me. “Why?”

Seriously, this girl has the ability to crush my soul without even trying.

I shrug, though, pretending this isn’t a big deal when it absolutely is. “I thought you might like to.” My voice rises, cracking a little at the end when her brows crinkle so much, they meet in the middle.

Fuck. Why the hell am I screwing this up so badly?

My palms are sweaty, and I let out a nervous laugh because there’s nothing I can do about it when I’m holding the tickets between us.

“I got the extra ticket because I didn’t want you sitting on your own. You could bring a friend. Maybe a boyfriend…”

Yeah, I said it. Figured it’d sting less if I tore the Band-Aid off myself.

She doesn’t laugh or roll her eyes like I half-expected. Instead, something shifts in her face, something I can’t quite place, but she doesn’t answer. Just stares down at the tickets like they might tell her what to feel.

I’m bracing for the no. Why would she say yes? I haven’t given her any reason to. I just handed her tickets like some hockey-obsessed loser rambling about a sport she clearly couldn’t care less about. To her, I’m probably just background noise. A guy with a stick and a dream she doesn’t share.

Why the hell did I listen to Erik?

That guy gives out the worst dating advice, yet I still took it. It’s my own fault for trusting my ex-roommate, who has two giant nutcrackers guarding the end of his bed.

“Um.”

There it is. Thankfully, she can’t hear my heart shattering. She’s trying to think of a nice way to say no.

“T-thank you?” It sounds like a question.

Thank you? That’s her answer. Wait a minute, am I still in for a shot? Fuck me, I can’t let this go to waste.

“Not a problem,” I say, my voice evidently more chipper than before. I push the tickets toward her, and she takes them, studying them as though it’s the first time she’s ever seen a set of tickets.

“It’s not a problem at all. I think you’ll love the game. The atmosphere is electric, and they sell these delicious slushy drinks I can’t get enough of.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Maybe we could go for a coffee after?” I want to physically cringe at how completely uncool I've become in the last twenty minutes, transforming from campus hockey god to desperate middle-schooler passing notes that say “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” But if I show even a hint of that self-loathing, I give too much away to Savannah.

Like letting her see I've never had to work this hard for a date in my entire life.

“Coffee?” she echoes, like I just suggested skydiving instead of a casual drink.

I chuckle, trying to sound casual when I feel anything but. “Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. Coffee after a night game. Maybe just a drink then? Whatever you’d prefer.” I’m really screwing this up royally.

“You want to go for a drink with me and my boyfriend?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

I exhale sharply, shaking my head, muttering under my breath, “Knew it.”

Luke. Her boyfriend. There we have it. Confirmation of what I suspected but didn’t want to believe. What a pathetic loser I am.

I take a step back, rubbing a hand over my jaw.

“You know what, come to think of it, I might not have time to have a drink with your boyfriend after the game. You should keep the tickets, though. If you can’t go, then you might as well sell them.

They’re expensive, and a lot of people would kill for those seats. ”

She finally looks up, her lips parting slightly. “They are?”

“Yeah, you could probably get two hundred dollars each for those.”

Her eyes widen. “Who on earth would pay that much to watch hockey?”

I clutch my chest dramatically. “Ouch. I know we aren’t the football team, but people are really starting to enjoy our games.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and the air shifts between us. Finally, I clear my throat and start walking away before my pride can take any more body blows. “Anyway, I guess I might see you there.”

I don’t wait for her answer. I don’t even know if I want to hear it.

I feel like a complete fucking idiot. Not only because I botched that up terribly, but because there’s still a part of me that really hopes she shows up… Without Luke’s sorry ass, of course.

But even if she does bring him, maybe this is my chance. Maybe if she sees the way I play, the way the crowd roars when we score, the way my teammates have my back, she’ll realize there’s more out there. More than whatever toxic bullshit she has with him.

She’ll see what it’s like to be surrounded by people who actually give a damn about each other. She’ll see the difference between a guy who treats her like she’s disposable and a guy who would walk through fire just to make her smile.

And if that’s the only thing I get to prove to her, then maybe getting my ego stomped into the sidewalk today will still be worth it.