24. Aaron

24

AARON

One week into living with her, and it’s like Olivia Griswold has infiltrated all areas of my life.

Not that I’m complaining.

It’s just… surreal to go from not seeing her for years, to waking up every day and finding her everywhere . Her shoes in the entryway, her coffee cups in the dishwasher, the smell of her shampoo on the couch pillows. Diet Coke cans are stacked neatly in the recycling, and there’s a cardigan draped over a barstool in the kitchen.

Yesterday, I found a pink hair tie in my hockey bag. No idea how it got there, but it sure ain’t mine.

It made me smile, though, because I like to see that she’s making herself at home. I want her to feel comfortable at my place, treat it like it’s hers for the next two and a half weeks until the new year rolls around and she moves into a new apartment. Although, as much as she’s been looking, I’m not sure if she’s found anything she likes yet.

"Get your head out of your ass, Marino!” Coach Torres hollers at me as I miss an easy pass from Perez who plays left wing. He used to be on a line with Slater and Holmes, but when Mal retired, I moved into his old position playing right wing on the first line.

“Sorry Coach,” I call as I skate over to scoop up the puck from where it’s settled against the boards and continue on with the drill we’re running. Forcing my head back onto the ice and into this practice, I snap the puck to Seb, who’s skating up ahead.

We’re practicing our tails off today after a rough loss to Toronto last night. But for some reason, I’m not feeling quite as anxious about it as I usually would, the negative words in my mind about my performance not as loud and consuming as normal.

Maybe it’s because we’ve also had a few wins recently, and our current standing in our conference is better than it’s been all season.

Or maybe it’s because Olivia was in Atlanta last night and came to the game. I gave her a ride home afterwards and we watched the fifth Saw movie together.

Well, she watched it, while I watched her watching the movie.

Seriously, the sight of her enthralled face as people got sawed up on-screen was way more entertaining than the movie. And the fact that she happily scarfed down popcorn while watching was downright impressive—all that gore makes me lose my appetite.

But strange snacking habits aside, I like Olivia’s company. She’s just as witty and funny as I remember. Snarky, with her sweeter side rippling just below the surface. And knowing what I do now about her family situation, it explains so much of the harder exterior she presents when she’s feeling vulnerable.

I don’t know if it’s the holidays coming up or what, but I have to say, after living alone for years, it feels pretty cozy to have someone to sit with in the evenings by the flickering light of the Christmas tree.

Frick. Maybe I need to get a dog or something when she moves out.

A big, goofy golden retriever, perhaps.

Or a cat. One of those fluffy ginger ones. I’d be a great cat daddy, I am sure.

“All right, bring it in!” The blast of Coach’s whistle shakes me from my feline train of thought, and as we all skate to the edge of the ice, Triple J comes up alongside me.

“Hey, Cap. What color is your tux for the gala?”

Right. The gala is tomorrow, and it’s been the talk of the locker room all day. Reagan’s been hyping it up on the Cyclones’ social media pages, and everyone’s pretty excited for an excuse to get all dressed up and dapper-looking.

“You mean my bowtie?” I frown at my teammate. “I’m going with classic black.”

He shakes his head like I’m being really, really slow. “No. Your tux .”

“Um, also black, J. Like most tuxedos.” I narrow my eyes at him. “You going powder blue? Or orange, like in Dumb and Dumber ?”

I’m obviously joking, so I’m a little startled when he nods. “Blue was my top choice, but I also have green, and I thought that might be more festive. I just wanted to double check that nobody else is wearing a green tux.” Triple J chuckles. “That would be so embarrassing if two of us showed up wearing the same color.”

“Yeah. That’s what would be embarrassing,” Dallas says from my other side. Jimmy gives him the middle finger, and Dallas smirks and adds, “Maybe I’ll have to dig my green tux out of my closet so we can match after all.”

Triple J looks appalled. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I think you’ll be fine in green, J,” I cut in. “Very… unique.” I mean it, too. I’m one hundred percent sure that Dallas is way too vain to turn up to a black-tie gala in a comedy tuxedo.

“I rented one with those penguin coat tails,” Colton jumps into the conversation. “Think I might get a top hat to go with it.”

“Get a monocle, too, and people will think you’re the monopoly man,” Seb tells him with a cheeky wink.

“The pants are too tight on mine,” Jake grouches, his bearded face screwed up in horror. “I finally picked one up and thought I was done worrying about it, but like Marino warned me, the woman at the store insisted I had to get mine taken in. She was wrong, though, because now I can hardly walk in those stupid pants.”

Looking at him right now, his face all pouty, I can see the resemblance between him and Olivia, clear as day. They normally look nothing alike—Jake is a beast of a guy, whereas Olivia is strikingly pretty. But this particular facial expression he’s making serves as an excellent reminder that the woman I’m currently enjoying living with is my best buddy’s little sister.

“I’m sorry for your hardship,” Seb tells Jake smugly. “If it helps, I look great in mine.”

“Same,” I add cheerfully.

“Ladies!” Coach thunders, clapping his meaty hands together. “When we’re all done talking about our fashion choices, can we please get back to talking about hockey?!”

“What are you wearing, Coach?” Jimmy asks innocently, and we all have to cover our laughs with an array of coughs. I swear even Torres’ lips twitch at the corners.

As Coach goes over the next drill, I find my mind drifting again, returning to Olivia. I can’t help but wonder what she’ll wear to the gala, and I’m intrigued to see what she looks like dressed up. A week or two ago, I would’ve guessed she’d spite-dress in her rattiest sweatpants or something in an effort to protest Christmas or make me look bad at the gala (joke’s on her, she still looks stupid hot in sweats). I can’t imagine she’ll wear that sexy silver mini-dress she wore at the club a few months ago.

Last time I saw her properly dressed up was at my senior prom. She looked totally stunning in a poofy, frothy-looking thing, or so my teenage self thought. She went to that prom with Daniel Davis from marching band.

And despite repeatedly insisting to myself that I wasn’t, I was jealous as all hell.

This time, she’ll be with me.

Coach blasts his whistle again, and we all skate onto center ice. But Dallas nudges me in the ribs with a knowing smirk I don’t like one bit. “Think your girl will give me a dance at the gala?” he asks under his breath.

“No,” I hiss back, and my neck prickles with embarrassment as his smirk grows. I try to cover and correct myself. “Doubt she’d wanna dance with the likes of you.”

“So, no issues calling her your girl, huh?” Dallas’s smirk is taking up his entire face at this point.

“Not my girl,” I retort hurriedly. “Roommate. Jake’s sister. Plus one.”

He cocks a dark brow. “Keep telling yourself that, bro.”

And with that, he skates off to take his position, leaving me alone with the ever-growing sensation that I’m wading into quicksand. That I’m starting to fall back into those old feelings I had for Olivia…

The ones I never allowed myself to feel, let alone act on.

I unconsciously glance towards the box where she was sitting during last night’s game. Her face fell after the final buzzer, and she looked so cute in that moment that my first thought was not that we’d just lost a game, but that I got to go home with her afterwards.

Yeah, scratch that.

I’m not sure I ever stopped having those feelings for her.