Secret Puck (Campus Nights Book 1)

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Secret Puck (Campus Nights Book 1) Page 7

by Rebecca Jenshak


  “That must be why she left so early this morning. I’ll check on her after we’re done here. Thanks, man, I appreciate you looking out for her.”

  I swallow thickly and nod. His request to look out for her wasn’t even a factor in it or really any of the times I’ve hung out with her. I like her. I like being with her. She makes me be in the moment more deeply. I’m not looking for hookups or to get drunk, I want to sit beside her, pull her hair, and tease her. Basically, I’m five again. I was thankful that I was there last night when she needed me. Last semester me wouldn’t have been. He’d have been wasted or with a girl.

  I take my shirt off and tuck it in my back pocket. It’s so damn hot out. It’s nice not to have the material sticking to my sweaty back, but now I can practically feel the sun turning my back into a barbeque grill.

  Adam looks past me. “The old women at six o’clock are not so subtly undressing you with their eyes.”

  I pause and lean against the rake. Sure enough, three ladies with snow-white hair are walking toward us in monochromatic cotton ensembles and thick Dr. Scholl’s sole-type shoes.

  “Take it off. Scott, give the ladies something to live another day for,” I taunt him. “I get it if you don’t want them comparing our bodies and finding you lacking.”

  “Good morning, ladies,” he says as they approach. He stands straight, lifts the hem of his shirt, and wipes his face. The ladies pause, taking in his abs, and when he drops the material, he tosses me a smirk. Fucker.

  “You boys are doing a wonderful job.” The one in the middle drops her gaze. As she brings it back to my face, I wink.

  “Just trying to make this place as beautiful as you,” Mav appears out of nowhere. The guy has a freaky ability to find the center of attention.

  I hand him my rake. “I’m going for water. Make yourself useful.”

  I take my empty water bottle inside to the water fountain and fill it. Burt’s in his usual spot sitting in front of the TV watching CSI or ESPN. I only know his name because someone is always yelling at him. He’s a grumpy old prick, always sitting alone, and always pissing someone off. He’s beating the remote on the arm of the chair, cursing under his breath. No one pays him any attention. A nurse walks by and sighs. I can’t really blame her for not rushing to his aid. I’ve only been here a few times and even I’m tired of his shit.

  “Goddamn remote.” He tosses it across the room and it skips along the white tile floor, coming to a stop in my path back outside.

  I lean down and pick it up and walk it over to him. He frowns as I hold it out.

  “Trouble with the remote?”

  “Trouble with everything,” he grumbles as he punches at the buttons with his thumb.

  “Maybe it’s the batteries.”

  “Already changed them out, twice, to be sure they weren’t dicking me around. That Sharon’s got it out for me.” He twists his body in his chair and hollers over his shoulder. “Are you sure this is the right remote?”

  Sharon, I presume, doesn’t even look up as she calls back. “Yes, Mister Thomas, I’m sure. I’ll send Louie over to help as soon as he gets done with bedpans.”

  Burt snarls. I wouldn’t want Louie’s nasty hands on my remote either.

  “I could give it a try if you want,” I offer.

  He holds it out with another sigh as if I am the last person he really wants to put his trust in. Again, can’t say that I blame him. But a man should at least have TV if he’s going to sit around in this depressing place all day. I test it out, pressing the channel up button with the same result Burt had.

  “It’s on the wrong input,” I tell him and hold it so he can see. I press TV and then the channel button again, this time with success.

  He keeps frowning as he takes it back in a liver-spotted hand and tries it for himself. I don’t get a thank you or even an acknowledgment before I leave him to CSI.

  If the options are going out young and unaware or old and hating the world… I think I’m in favor of the first. Live hard and die happy.

  Desert Rose treats us to lunch after we’re done. The guys are all in good spirits. Everyone’s talking and laughing as we go through the buffet line set up for us. We’re starting to get a nice camaraderie among the group, and I hope it translates to the ice when we get out there.

  We spread out under the pavilion, sweaty and dirty but so hungry. Mav and I sit across from one another. The place goes silent as we eat. Even Mav barely speaks as we devour everything on our plates and then grab seconds. I finish and then guzzle what remains of my water.

  “You want to grab a beer after this?” Mav asks.

  “Nah, not today.”

  “Xbox?” he asks as we stand to leave.

  I shake my head and we walk to his car. I need a shower and to find Ginny. She still hasn’t responded to my text from earlier.

  “Movie?”

  “No.” I slide into the passenger seat and Mav opens the driver’s side door and gets in.

  “Running out of options, buddy.” He starts the car and taps his thumb on the steering wheel as he thinks. “Girls?”

  “Now you’ve got it, but just one girl.”

  “Sharesies?” He seems surprised, but dare I say a little excited about the idea.

  I lean back against the headrest. Tired laughter slips out. “Really, man?”

  I don’t have an exact plan. Find Ginny, make sure she’s good, then convince her to spend more time with me.

  “You wouldn’t share with me? What if I sing Mariah and promise to keep my hands to myself?”

  I don’t know if he’s kidding or not, but I wouldn’t put anything past Maverick.

  “Absolutely fucking not.” I don’t want to share one second of my time with Ginny. Not with anyone.

  11

  Ginny

  “And that’s the story of why I’m never going back to my brother’s apartment.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Reagan gives me a hopeful smile across the table. I snuck out of Adam’s early this morning and went straight to Dakota and Reagan’s. They’re consoling me over brunch at a cute little café they like.

  “I was having a full-on panic attack in the bathtub. I have an issue with dark, enclosed spaces.” I wave it off, hoping they don’t ask more about that piece because I don’t really feel like going into the specifics. “It was absolutely that bad.”

  Dakota snickers and takes a bite of her bagel.

  “It’s kind of romantic,” Reagan insists. “Crawling into the tub with you and calming you down. I’m impressed, although not all that surprised that Heath was the one to come to your rescue. He’s got that cocky but capable look about him. Still, I’m not sure I would have known what to do, so you were really lucky.”

  “It wasn’t romantic. It was pity.” I groan and bury my head in my arm on the table for a second. When I lift it back up, they’re both smiling at me. “It’s too bad. I liked Heath. Now I’m going to have to avoid him until I can look at him without wanting to disappear into the ground.”

  “Are you a drama major like this one?” Dakota asks and points her bagel toward Reagan.

  “No, why?”

  She smiles and I toss a crumpled napkin at her. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

  “We’ve all made fools of ourselves one time or another. It’s college. It’s fine.” Dakota finishes her bagel and grabs her coffee. “Do you need to get back to the dorm or do you want to hang out today?”

  “I need to shower and change, but I don’t have anything after that.”

  “You’ll want to shower after, but we can swing by the dorm on the way because you need sneakers.”

  “On the way where?” I ask, standing and following them out of the booth.

  I gasp as we jog around the Valley U campus track. “When you said hang out, I was picturing Netflix or mani-pedis.”

  “Two more laps and then we switch to speed walking,” Dakota says, sounding far too comfortable talking while jogging.

 
; The Scott pride and competitive nature keeps me pushing on, but when we finally begin walking, I’m a lot more sweaty and tired than these two.

  “Do you guys do this often?”

  “Three times a week,” Reagan says, sounding only slightly out of breath.

  “Why?”

  “I like to run,” Dakota says.

  “She was on the track team,” Reagan adds. “I let her drag me along because it justifies the really big slice of cheesecake I’m going to have later while I make Dakota watch Lifetime movies.”

  “What’s Ava, your roommate, like?” Dakota asks, swiftly changing the subject.

  Ava and Trent hadn’t been at the dorm when we’d stopped by, but Trent’s things were still there. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight.

  “She’s really nice. Her boyfriend goes to school at Northern. That’s why I was at Adam’s this weekend. He was visiting, and I wanted to give them some privacy. Hopefully next weekend she goes to his campus because I’m going to need a few weeks while I’m in hiding.”

  “You can always crash with us. The bathtub is all yours,” Reagan teases.

  “Thanks a lot, jerks,” I say with a smile.

  Trent’s gone and Ava’s asleep in her bed when I get back. I shower and then get into my own bed to nap, but last night plays over and over in my mind. Adam and Heath have both texted, but I only responded to my brother and with a quick—I’m fine, it was nothing—that will hopefully keep him from asking more.

  A knock at our door gets me out of bed and I’m half expecting it to be Adam. It would be just like him to skip texting back altogether and want to check on me in person, but it’s Heath standing in the hallway.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He smirks and adjusts the baseball hat on his head. “It’s nice to see you too.”

  “Sorry. Hello, how are you today? Great weather we’re having. What the heck are you doing at my dorm? And how did you know where I lived?”

  His rough chuckle pulls a smile from my lips. “Good. Agreed. I wanted to see you and…” He leans in closer. “I can’t reveal all my secrets.” He’s full-on grinning at me with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Come on, take a walk with me.”

  “A walk?”

  “Sure. You got something better to do?”

  “I was planning on taking a nap.”

  “Sleep’s boring. Come on, am I really having to talk you into this? It’s gorgeous outside and we can stop at the dining hall to feed you.”

  “Me?”

  “Now that you mention it, I could eat.”

  He doesn’t move and I relent. “One minute.”

  I leave him in the hallway, shut the door, and change out of my comfy yoga pants and into a pair of shorts. I swipe on lip gloss and a dab of mascara. When I pull the door open, he’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other and hands in his pockets.

  “Ready?”

  He pushes off the wall and motions for me to go first. “If you are.”

  We cross the street to the dining hall in silence. Heath seems perfectly at ease with the quiet, while I have a million questions on the tip of my tongue. He holds the door out for me.

  “I should have assumed spending time with you would mean eating.”

  “Always,” he says. “Plus, it’s where we met. We have history here.”

  I huff a laugh and grab a tray. Now that we’re here, I am kind of hungry. Heath gets a much smaller portion of food than normal and I raise a brow.

  “I already ate lunch once,” he admits.

  We take our food to our usual table.

  “What time did you sneak out this morning?” he asks.

  I hesitate with a chip up to my mouth. “I didn’t sneak out.”

  His left brow rises as he takes a bite of food.

  “Okay, fine. I very quietly left at a ridiculously early time. Happy?”

  “Obviously not since I tracked you down.”

  “I’m fine, okay?”

  He shrugs. As we eat, he tells me about his morning with the team doing community service and I tell him about running with the girls.

  “Congrats on being drafted, by the way. Adam mentioned it this summer, but I didn’t piece together it was you until Reagan mentioned it last night.”

  “Thanks.” He sits back in his chair, drinking his water and studying me.

  “What?” I ask self-consciously.

  “Trying to figure you out. What are you into?”

  “Everything and nothing. I didn’t play sports in high school or anything like that.”

  “Had to have been into something.”

  “I was into socializing. Turns out you can’t make a career out of that unless your parents are rich and famous.”

  “Damn those Kardashians.”

  “Right?”

  “Genevieve, Genevieve, Genevieve.”

  I love the way my full name sounds when he says it. I was always sort of embarrassed by it. Teachers would comment on how beautiful it was, which to a middle schooler, is super humiliating. Kids would taunt me with it, at least until I got boobs, then it became some sort of bad pickup line. “Genevieve, huh? Cool name.”

  Cue swooning. Not.

  Except, I’m sort of swooning now and all he did was say my name. And I’m also staring at him when I’m supposed to be saying something. Anything.

  “Heath, Heath, Heath.”

  His playful smile makes my stomach flip.

  “I’m going to get ice cream.” I stand before he can comment and take my time at the dessert bar creating a perfect sundae.

  He’s picking at the chips on my tray when I get back. “I assumed you were done.”

  “They’re all yours.”

  “What is that?” he asks, face twisted in disgust as he eyes my bowl of ice cream.

  “Neapolitan with sprinkles and gummy bears.”

  “All the flavors are touching.”

  I laugh and bring a big spoonful of all three flavors to my mouth. He continues to watch on horrified.

  “I don’t understand Neapolitan flavor. It’s ice cream for people who can’t make a decision.”

  “Not true. The decision is we want all three and don’t want to settle for one boring flavor.” I offer him my spoon. “Wanna try it?”

  His mouth pulls into a tight line and he shakes his head.

  “Come on.” I sit forward and lean over the table to get the spoon closer to his mouth. He opens and I feed him, which turns out to be a surprisingly intimate thing. His throat works, eyes locked on mine, as I sit back and study his reaction to the food.

  “Well?”

  “I think I swallowed a gummy bear whole,” he says, voice tight.

  We finish the rest of my ice cream and if Heath eating more than half of it is any indication, I’d say he likes my Neapolitan sundae just fine.

  After, we take a walk around campus. It isn’t as busy as it is during the week, but lots of other people are out walking, hanging out in the shaded areas, playing frisbee, and some are even going in and out of buildings.

  Eventually we take a seat on the ledge of the fountain in the center of campus. It’s one of my favorite spots.

  “So, you’re all right?”

  “What?” I try to play it off like I don’t know what he’s talking about, but his serious expression says it all. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

  I dig through my pocket for a penny, close my eyes, and toss it into the fountain.

  “What’d you wish for?”

  “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

  It’s quiet and I hope we’ve successfully avoided talking any more about last night until he asks, “You’ve had them before, right? Panic attacks? Adam said you had a thing with the dark.”

  I consider lying, but it feels as if it couldn’t get any more embarrassing with the truth.

  “Really, I’m fine. I don’t like being trapped in dark places. And, sure, I’ve had them before, but it isn’t like a commo
n occurrence.” I quit talking and hope I’ve said enough to make me seem less crazy.

  “My mom used to have them. The first time she thought she was dying or having a heart attack. Scared the shit out of both of us.”

  I finger the hem of my shorts and avoid meeting his gaze.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t bring it up to make you embarrassed. I just wanted you to know it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed. I’d just prefer not to need to be rescued by my brother’s insanely hot friend.” I slap a hand over my mouth. “Forget I said that. Clearly there was something wrong with those gummy bears and it’s making me say crazy things.”

  He quirks a brow. “You think I’m insanely hot?”

  “Did I say insanely? That was the gummy bears talking. I mean, objectively yes, you’re hot. But it isn’t like I think you’re hot.”

  His hand comes up and brushes my hair back from my face. His thumb traces my bottom lip. He leans in and the seconds while his lips descend on mine seem to happen in slow motion while my pulse quickens.

  My eyes flutter closed and finally his mouth covers mine. His lips are soft, but his scruff is scratchy against my smooth skin. His hand at my face slides to the back of my neck, cupping it with his large palm as his mouth widens and his tongue asks for entrance.

  His tongue feels divine. Kissing Heath feels divine. He’s a great kisser, and even though it’s only my neck and lips he’s touching, I feel it everywhere.

  When he pulls back, I’m breathless and turned on. Jesus.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  His words are like a bucket of cold water dumped over my lady parts. “Why not?”

  “Because maybe you were right. You’re off men, I’m not capable of being more than your friend without ruining everything else, your brother is my teammate, pick a reason I guess.”

  “Those gummy bears are making you do crazy things too.”

  He smirks. “Friends?”

  Is he serious? He wants to be friends after that kiss? But I did just get out of a relationship and it’s probably not the best idea to jump into something one week into college, so I nod. “Friends.”

 

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