Page 29 of Trick Shot (Bainbridge Hockey #4)

Pete

S uddenly, I feel like I’m in a cartoon where everything is exaggerated. I’m sure my eyes are bugging out of my head the way Claire’s are, and the Student Union lobby goes eerily quiet while people around us take in Ollie’s announcement.

Shane looks like a fish with his mouth hanging open, and Ollie’s ridiculous lie is the bait that snagged him.

I knew my guys would stand up for Claire because no one deserves the kind of shit Shane was dishing out.

But Ollie took it to a whole new level.

And I have no clue why.

Shane shakes his head and stalks off with the assholes he calls friends.

Claire darts into the makeshift photography studio like she can’t wait to get away from me, and Mickey and Jenksy follow her in.

I guess it makes sense she’d want to get started.

I’m not sure how legit this calendar is gonna end up being, but she’s been here almost an hour already and doesn’t have anything to show for it.

“You’re welcome,” Ollie says, holding his fist out for a bump .

“For what?” I say, keeping my hands to myself. “For the kick to the balls I’m about to get from Claire because of the fucking bomb you just dropped?”

Ollie laughs. “That’s more details than I need, you kinky bastard. Actually, I’m the kinky bastard. Give me all the details. You like pain?”

“There are no details,” I say quietly. “We’re not together. You made that shit up. And why?”

Olle pins me with a look he’s famous for.

It’s the one he gives us when he can’t believe we don’t recognize his genius.

It’s part offended, part frustrated, and a whole lot disappointed.

“Santos,” he begins, like he’s trying to explain something simple to a small child.

“Half the damn campus has it out for Claire, and it’s just getting worse.

She needs somebody on her side, and newsflash, Cap, it’s you.

Think about it. Besides the fact that you’ve got a massive crush on her, you’re the perfect guy for the job.

Nobody’s gonna mess with you—or her—because you’re everybody’s favorite guy around here. ”

“Not Claire’s,” I say, and dammit, the words smart.

“I’m not so sure about that. I know you and Josie are the brainiacs, but I’m gifted in matters of the heart.”

The fact that my buddy is saying this with a straight face should alarm the hell out of me.

“I know shit, Pete,” he says with a shrug. “But we’ll worry about all that later. For now, your rep is enough to keep the bastards off Claire’s back. And that’s the most important thing.”

What he’s saying makes a weird kind of sense. If dating me means Claire can get through the day without wearing out the battery on her earpods, then sure, I’m up for it. There are worse fates than spending time with Claire and keeping the assholes at bay .

I’m not going to tell Ollie I’m onboard with his plan, though. His ego’s big enough as it is.

“Back me up here, Pete.”

I turn to see Mickey standing in the doorway. He’s bare-chested, wearing only a very fitted pair of gray joggers and a pirate hat.

“I’m gonna need a little more context before you get an endorsement, bud,” I tell him.

Claire steps out of the room, brushes past Mickey, and walks straight up to me. “You’re my boyfriend for the next ten minutes until I dump your ass, so you need to back me up here. This calendar needs a theme.”

“It has a theme,” Mickey insists.

“And what’s that?” Claire asks, her hand on her hip. “’Dumb Shit We Found in the Attic’?

“No,” Mickey retorts. “It’s stuff I look hot in. I can’t help it that I look hot in just about everything. Oh, you know what? I think I’ve got a wolf mask in my car. Be right back.”

With that ridiculous pronouncement, Mickey takes off. I don’t pay him much attention though, because I’m still stuck on what Claire just said. “You’re dumping me? Already? Jesus, it’s only been five minutes.”

She shrugs. “What can I say? When you know, you know.”

“Aw, is this your first lovers’ quarrel?” Ollie asks, and we both crack up.

“Not even remotely,” I say.

“It’s gonna be our last, though, because I really am dumping your ass. I don’t know what that shit was about, Ollie, but it’s unnecessary. So what do you say, Pete, is there enough of an audience here tonight, or should I do the deed at Drip tomorrow morning? ”

“I’ve done the deed at Drip,” Ollie says. “Oh, shit, different deed. Got it.”

I’m rolling my eyes and deciding when Claire should publicly break my heart, but when Mickey walks back into the lobby with a worried look on his face, I get concerned.

“Dude, you okay? Did somebody take your wolf mask?”

Mickey looks at Claire. “Did you drive here tonight?”

She squints in confusion. “Yeah, I had an interview for a story over in Murraystown, so I took my car. Why?”

“Any chance you drive a white hatchback with a cactus bumper sticker and a license plate that reads THTBTCH?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice rising as she draws out the word. “Why?”

His face is pained as he holds up his phone. What I see on the screen has my blood boiling.

There’s a bit of a glare from the flash, but the damage to Claire’s vehicle is clear. The word cunt has been spray-painted in neon green across her back windshield.

My hands ball into fists. “Who the hell would?—”

“There’s more,” Mickey says, swiping to the next photo.

This one’s a little harder to spot, but once I see it, I can’t get the image out of my mind.

The heat that was raging through me is gone and it’s been replaced by a chill.

Some coward used a key to carve the threat fuck around and find out onto the metal surface of Claire’s bumper.

I’m a level headed guy. I’m known for being good in a crisis. Ma’s had enough health issues in the past few years that there’ve been plenty of times I’ve had to stay calm when I wanted to scream or stick my fist through a wall.

As I see the worry and fear in Claire’s eyes, I’m doing my damnedest to summon every ounce of calmness I’ve ever had. She blinks and I watch as in awe as she mentally dons the armor she’s gonna need to deal with this shit. Good thing for her, she’s not handling it alone.

I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. She lets her palm rest in the cradle of mine and though we’ve seen each other naked, and explored each other’s bodies, this feels like another level of intimacy.

Granted, this is Claire we’re talking about so I’m fully aware that at any second she could tell me to get my meaty paws off her or she could freeze me out with one of her signature glares. But this feels good, and if she’s willing to lean on me a little, I’m gonna soak it up.

“All right,” I say, finding my footing. “The first thing we need to do is call campus security and see what their cameras picked up. They’ll want to document everything, too, I’m guessing.”

“Already on it,” Mickey says, his phone plastered to his ear. Jenksy’s packing up all the supplies from the photo shoot that never actually happened, and Ollie is…taking my picture?

“What the hell?” I ask, gesturing to the phone he’s wielding like the damn paparazzi. “What are you doing?”

He straightens for a second and throws Claire a look that says, Can you believe this guy ? I watch in fascination and horror as the two of them have a whole-ass conversation with just facial expressions. It’s downright eerie. But kinda fucking cool, too.

Claire sighs loudly and breaks the silence.

“We really don’t have to take it this far,” she says.

“You sure about that?” Ollie asks as he snaps a photo of our still-joined hands. Claire breaks our connection so fast that I‘m afraid I’ll get a blister from the friction.

“You know I’m right,” he says.

“Fine, you’re right, but it’s still stupid that the best course of action here is for me to fake date the burliest man in the tri-state area just to stop myself from being harassed by small-minded, self-absorbed dickholes who can’t take criticism.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

She huffs out a beleaguered sigh before turning her body so that she’s standing in front of me. Her hands reach for mine and she pulls on my arms so they’re draped over her shoulders. She raises our joined hands so they’re below her breasts but above her waist.

Basically, her back is pressed to my chest and I’m wrapping her in a hug. “I’m not complaining,” I say, looking first at Claire and then at Ollie. “But what the hell is happening right now?”

Without changing our positions, Claire turns her head and looks up at me. Have I mentioned how much I fucking love that she’s only a few inches shorter than me?

“Ollie and I discussed quite a few things,” she tells me. “But the gist is this: I’m not dumping your ass tonight or tomorrow. In fact, it could be a few weeks until I have to kick your fine behind to the curb.”

“So…you’re my girlfriend?” I ask, merely for clarification.

“You’re fake one,” she says, keeping her voice quiet even though the only other person in the room is Ollie, and he’s basically the puppet master in all this. “And it’s not official yet, but it’s about to be.”

She lost me. “If you know it and I know it, how is it anything less than official?”

“Oh, Pete, you sweet summer child, you.” Ollie’s voice is full of pity and a healthy dose of condescension. “Nothing’s real until the internet says it’s real. Don’t you know that by now?”

“So smart and yet so na?ve,” Claire teases .

“Okay, so what? We post a pic? Share a story? A reel, perhaps?”

Claire’s eyes go wide. “How old are you? How do you not know how this works?”

I shrug. “I don’t really do social media.”

“You do now,” Ollie says. “I’m making a post on your account. It’s gonna be great. There’s a carousel of sickeningly sweet photos, a sappy ass caption, and a metric shit-ton of vague as hell hashtags.”

I’m about to thank him when my brain zeroes in on his wording. “Hold up. How are you posting on my account?”