Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

CAMMIE

@therealophelia

I’m so excited for your date night!

@legagornsandwich

Me toooooo! My sister is calling soon to walk me through wardrobe and makeup.

@therealophelia

I need details when you get back! Or tomorrow!

@legagornsandwich

@therealophelia

Oh and your last chapter was

@legagornsandwich

Thank you!

A message pops up from my sister with a one-minute warning.

@legagornsandwich

My sister’s calling! Gotta go!

@therealophelia

Have the best time!

@legagornsandwich

I will!

My phone rings a few seconds later.

“Hey! Hi! Hey!” I practically yell at my sister’s two-dimensional form.

She arches a brow. “Take a breath.”

I suck in air and motion to my face and what’s under my neck. “I need your help. I have a date in an hour and I want to look good.”

Essie shrieks. Loudly. “This is so exciting! What’s his name? How did you meet him? What’s his major?”

“His name is Chase. He’s a kin major and we have some classes together.” I avoid disclosing the whole hotel room situation, or the fact that we live in the same building, on the same floor. I already know the cons to this if it doesn’t work out. For once I’m channeling my inner positive Petunia and hoping this date is the first of many.

“Is he cute?” Essie asks.

“He’s really cute. He’s also friends with Brody.” I figure that’s a safe tidbit.

Essie’s eyes light up. “Brody is so sweet! Does that mean Chase plays hockey?”

“He’s a forward.”

“Oh my God! Oh wow! Look at you go, hooking yourself a hot hockey player. Those guys have endless stamina. At least that’s what Rix has said, and I believe it with the way she’s always taking Epsom salt baths after Tristan’s been on an away series.”

“That’s probably more information than Rix wants me to have about her sex life.” She and Essie were always the queens of the overshare. I used to eavesdrop on their conversations when they were in high school. I learned a lot from their excessively detailed chats.

Essie waves a dismissive hand. “She won’t care. I wish I could high-five you! This is awesome!” She flicks her ponytail over her shoulder. “Okay, time’s ticking. Let’s get you dressed for maximum hotness. Where are you going and what are you doing?”

“We’re going for dinner and a movie. And we’re university students, so I assume it will be more pub style than fine dining,” I say.

“You’re probably right. Okay, so black wide-leg pants or jeans are a good start, and a fitted shirt with a hint of cleavage, or tights and that short velvet dress I gave you last Christmas,” Essie instructs.

I rummage through my closet and toss clothes on my bed. I change three times—including my bra because Essie claims feeling sexy starts with what you’re wearing under your clothes—and we finally settle on an outfit. I want to bring a hoodie but Essie axes that idea. I’m allowed to wear a bomber jacket though, so I don’t freeze my ass off.

Next is a quick makeup tutorial. Essie is blissfully easy on me and does not make me attempt cat eyes. Mostly it’s a little blush, mascara, shimmer eyeliner to make my grays pop, and gloss to draw attention to my mouth.

“Have the best time!” Essie is all smiles.

“I will, thanks for the help.”

“Always my pleasure. And I need to come to campus with Rix one of these days so we can grab lunch. With Tally too because you’ve been holding out on me, you little sneak. I can’t believe you met her without me introducing you. It’s a small world, little sister. I’ll text you dates soon for all of us to get together.”

“I’d love that.” And I mean it. I actually think it would be fun to hang out with my sister and our mutual friends.

We blow each other kisses and I end the call. I lace up my Docs, slide my phone and wallet into my pocket, fluff my hair, and leave my room. It’s just my luck that Barbie and Annabelle are walking down the hall when I knock on Chase’s door.

“Aww. Isn’t that cute. The little weirdo is all dressed up,” Annabelle whispers loudly to Barbie.

Chase’s door swings open. I swear all the air is sucked out of the universe. He looks magnificent. Hair styled, freshly shaved, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve collared shirt. His own bomber jacket thrown over top. He’s completed the look with a pair of sweet running shoes.

“Hi, Chase!” Annabelle and Barbie say in unison.

He lifts a hand in their direction but doesn’t look their way. A smile spreads across his gorgeous face as his eyes rove over me on a slow, hot sweep. “Wow. Hey. Hi. You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” My stomach flips around at the compliment, and I allow my own gaze to do a slow sweep. “I’d let you fuck my face.”

Chase’s grin widens.

I slap a palm over my mouth when I notice Brody sitting in his computer chair on the other side of the room. He looks just as comical as Chase did sitting in mine, his huge body making it appear better suited for a child. I glance over my shoulder. It’s bad enough Brody heard me. It would be just my luck that the mean girls would overhear that comment and label me the floor slut. Thankfully, Barbie and Annabelle are at the other end of the hall whispering furiously to each other.

Brody spins around in his chair. “Let him take you for dinner and a movie first.”

“Hi, Brody,” I choke out the words.

“Hi, Cammie.” He waves, expression wry as he adds, “And get yours first.”

I give him two thumbs-up. “Solid advice.”

“Later, Brodes.” Chase grabs his phone from his desk and slips it in his pocket.

“Have fun, kids. And play safe.” Brody salutes us .

Chase steps into the hall and pulls the door closed behind him.

“He won’t say anything to anyone about the face-fuck comment, will he?” We’re connected by too many threads and I don’t want it to get back to my sister. Not because I think she’ll judge me, but because I’m good with having some TMI boundaries with her.

“Nah. He’s a vault.” Chase laces our fingers and leads me down the hall. “Our ride will be here in like two.”

“Where are we headed?”

“There’s this cool farm-to-table restaurant downtown. They have a nice menu and even vegan options,” Chase explains. “My sister doesn’t eat things with faces, so we always go to places that have something for everyone on the carnivore-to-veggie spectrum.”

I smile up at him. “That’s so thoughtful.”

We take the stairs because there’s a gaggle of people waiting for the elevator. People say hi to Chase as we push through the doors and step out into the cold, dark November evening. The Uber is already there, so we hop in and take the short trip downtown.

The restaurant is cozy and much nicer than any of the places close to campus. The host tucks us into a booth. Instead of sitting across from me, Chase slides into the seat beside mine. The server is a hipster-looking dude with a bushy beard. We both order ginger ale and flip our menus open.

“I’m starving,” Chase says.

“I feel like those are words that come out of your mouth often.” I peruse the appetizers. They have fried brussels sprouts, which are a personal fave.

“Yeah, like ninety percent of the time,” Chase agrees. “How do you feel about brussels sprouts?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No. Should it be?”

I shrug. “Depends on your affinity for tiny cabbages. ”

“I like them. Especially when they’re deep fried and served with bacon and tossed in a maple balsamic glaze.”

I grin. “I also like them. Especially when they’re presented as described.”

“Should we start with those?”

“Sure.”

When the server returns with our ginger ales, Chase orders the brussels sprouts, the artichoke and spinach dip, and the sausage chips.

“Sausage chips?” I ask when the server disappears.

“Delicious,” Chase informs me.

I prop my cheek on my fist. “Better than my precious?”

“No. Nothing tastes better than your precious.” His gaze darkens and drops to my mouth. “Except maybe your lips.”

I bite the bottom one.

He groans and stretches his arm across the back of the seat. Leaning in, he captures my bottom lip between his and sucks gently. He backs off with a sigh. “We need to talk about literally anything else. Why are you double majoring?”

I stop torturing us and switch gears. “Because a degree in English is nice, but the job opportunities aren’t as plentiful as they are with a kinesiology degree. I’ll probably go directly into a master’s program when I’m done. What about you? Is your goal to make the pros?”

“Ideally, yes. I’ve been drafted, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever get called up. It just depends on how well I’m able to balance the demands of school, hockey, and everything else.” Chase traces circles on my shoulder while he talks. “And if I can improve my skill set between now and the end of my time here.”

“That seems like a ton of pressure. I don’t even have a part-time job and I find the balance between schoolwork and the social stuff hard enough to handle. I can’t imagine how challenging it is with hockey basically seven days a week,” I muse.

Chase shrugs. “It’s my passion. Kind of like writing is yours. You do it because you love it. ”

“And I love the feedback.” Sometimes people leave shitty reviews, but most of the time they have nice things to say. It can be a confidence booster, and it’s addictive.

“It’s not so different from hockey, apart from the physicality. I love the game and there’s a thrill from having all those people cheering you on.”

“I can see that.” I nod thoughtfully. “But it must get a little old when everyone wants a piece of you.”

He fingers the end of my braid. “Not going to lie, it was fun at first, but it got old really fast. I started to feel like a cardboard cutout. Everything felt hollow, if that makes sense.” His blue gaze meets mine. “And then there you were.”

“I was always there.”

“I wasn’t ready for you yet.”

“And you think you are now?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

The server arrives with our appetizers. We place our dinner orders and dig in.

“These are to die for,” I mumble around a mouthful of brussels sprout.

“Right?” Chase pops another one into his mouth.

We chat through dinner—about classes, goals, and our families. It’s wild how we’re connected through all these hockey people. He tells me stories about how his brother’s car got covered in sticky notes last week and how his sister created a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as an oil painting just for fun one year for his dad’s birthday. He also asks me about my favorite comfort foods and what I daydream about. Having his undivided attention makes me giddy.

Chase polishes off all the appetizers and finishes what I can’t. When I try to go halves with him, he covers my hand with his. “I literally hoovered seventy-five percent of the food we ordered and finished what would have been some nice leftovers for you. I have no expectations beyond this. I’d just like to pay if that’s okay with you. ”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He hands over his debit card and once the bill is settled, we head out into the brisk cool night.

“Crap.” Chase runs a hand through his hair and his expression turns apologetic. “The movie started almost an hour ago. I didn’t realize we’d been at the restaurant this long.”

I shove my hands in my jacket pockets. “It’s okay. I’ve seen The Hobbit a bunch of times.” Like over a hundred. “We can do something else.”

Chase consults his phone. “One of the guys on my team is throwing a party tonight. It’s only a couple of blocks away. We could go for a bit. I think Brody, Mac, and Gage will be there, so you’ll know people and I can introduce you to my other friends?” He chews on the inside of his lip and gives me puppy-dog eyes.

I splay my hand over his face. “That expression is completely unfair.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses my palm, batting his long, pretty lashes. “Please, Cammie? I want you to meet my teammates. It’ll be fun. We don’t have to stay long.”

I’ve never gone to an off-campus party. Essie would be so proud of me. “Okay. We can go to the party.”