10. MADDIE

CHAPTER 10

MADDIE

S ometime in the past twenty-four hours, the world has tilted on its axis. That's the only reasonable explanation as to why I'm going to meet the captain of the Thunder Bolts for a fourth time. This is the St. Cloud equivalent of, I don't know, suddenly meeting Chris Evans at a bar and then agreeing to hang out again the next day.

It's wild.

Also wild: the fact that I don't know what to do with myself. I already tried walking into the building, but the doors are locked. And it's cold enough out here to freeze my nose hairs. But I can't afford the gas it would take to run my car for so long. So I've been alternating between hanging out in my car for a bit and hopping outside and moving my body so it stays warm. I only stop when I skid on black ice in the parking lot and figure spending money on gas is better than spending money on a trip to the ER.

Because it's nearing seven p.m. and no one's out.

All the lights are on, though, so I don't think Aran lied to me. He doesn't seem like that kind of person. Gruff and grumpy, sure. A bit cutting sometimes too. And he revels in my embarrassment. But his intimidating air doesn't translate into being a jerk, like I feared at the beginning.

No, Aran is… The school may revoke all my credits because I'm a creative writing major, yet I'm coming up blank with how to describe him. Nice doesn't fit him. He still makes me much more nervous than any other guy I've ever met, and it's not because of his gorgeous face. He just gives me the impression that I won't be able to hide anything from those sharp eyes. He's an intense person who is intensely hot. Who wouldn't freak out?

He's also late, though.

I check my phone, and it reads 6:52. I wish I'd thought to ask for his number so I could contact him to reschedule. But then the front door opens, and two guys come out dressed in thick coats, with ginormous duffel bags hanging from their shoulders.

Should I get out of the car now? Would it look weird if I wait for him outside the door? But what choice do I have? It's not like he knows what I drive.

Gathering my nerve, I turn off my car again and climb out. More people stream out of the building, guys and girls alike, all carrying big bags and equipment. And apparently, all of them much taller than me.

I attract a few stares as I park myself by some benches at the entrance. I don't sit because they have ice on them. My breath comes out in puffs that cloud my vision, but even if I don't see him, Aran will spot me easily. And it won't be because of his super vision. It will be because I'm the only short, chubby person not carrying any equipment here.

But I spot him right away. His is the only tall head with a buzz cut. He keeps the door open for a girl to walk through. They're chatting, so I clamp my mouth shut and don't call out his name like I intended. He turns around, as if he'd already seen me, and heads my way without hesitation.

"So this is her?" the girl asks, motioning toward me.

Aran nods. "Maddie, this is Ryan Avery. Ryan, this is Madeline Berkley—goes by Maddie and doesn't like it when I call her Strawberry."

"Gotcha." Ryan's eyes sparkle under the light of the lamppost. She offers her hand, and I shake it and, wow, she's strong. "It's great to meet you, Maddie. I've heard a lot about you already."

"Uh-oh." My eyes are wide.

"Nothing terrible. Only how you're keeping my boy here out of trouble."

My boy?

I didn't know he had a girlfriend.

"Uh…"

Aran expels a little cloud from his mouth with a sigh. "I had to explain how we met. So she knows you're my tutor."

Of course. I mean, girlfriends like to know these things. I think.

"Apparently," Ryan continues, her tone conspiratorial, "he doesn't want anyone else to know he's about to flunk an elective."

"A bullshit elective, to be more accurate," Aran mumbles.

"Don't worry. All your secrets are safe with me." She jams her elbow into his side so hard it makes him grunt. "Unlike the bunch of gossips you call teammates, am I right?"

"Unfortunately." He shakes his head with a deadpan expression and hoists his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "So, Strawberry, are you ready?"

"Will you ever stop calling me that?"

"Probably not."

"And he won't be apologetic about it," Ryan adds. At the same time, she hooks her arm with mine. "But if you can put up with his crap, you'll have a solid friend for life."

"I, uh…"

Aran rolls his eyes wide. "She's looking for an apartment, not for some buddy-buddy bullshit. Are we going or not?"

"Lead the way, Forrest Grump."

I choke on a laugh.

Without a word, Aran turns on his heel, and I follow, pulled by Ryan.

"Don't let him fool you," she says in a whisper. "He's all bark, no bite."

"I do bite," he chimes from the front, and Ryan shakes her head at me.

They're cute. Behind the teasing, it's obvious they each understand how the other ticks. I should make a note in my journal that this is how couples act when they've truly meshed. A little pang in my chest makes me wonder when it'll be my turn for this.

"Bro, where you going?" a familiar voice calls. The redhead who was all over Tiff last night cuts through the people walking out of the building and heads over to us.

Aran jerks his head back, which makes the guy glance over.

"Oh. Maddie, was it?" He falls in stride on my left.

"Yeah, hi." I cringe. "I didn't catch your name last night, sorry."

"Archie Bracken. Left winger. Assistant captain. And the saint who puts up with Aran's crap on a daily basis. A.k.a. his roommate and best friend."

"No, I'm his best friend," Ryan says in return from my other side. "You're just the one who does his laundry."

"That was only once after I lost a bet." Archie sticks out his tongue.

I cough to hide a laugh. These two seem like the perfect balance to Aran.

Speaking of, he stops by the back door of a black SUV. I can't tell what make, since it has a hefty coat of snow from the day. It must be a kind of old one, since he inserts the key into the lock to dump his equipment in the back. Ryan releases me to do the same.

"Anyway, doofus. You weren't invited to this party, but are you coming?" Aran asks his roommate.

"Where to?"

"Ryan's."

Archie blows a raspberry. "And here I thought it was something more exciting."

"Hey, don't make Maddie think my place is a dungeon or something."

"Anyway, no. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come hang out with us again," Archie says to Aran.

"Again?" he asks.

"Yesterday's crew." Archie turns to me. "And Maddie, you're more than welcome to come too, of course."

I offer a stiff smile. "Thanks, but we already have plans, so…"

"It's cool. I might catch you later if Ryan's dungeon doesn't trap you." He grins.

Ryan folds her arms. "Rodriguez, send your underling away before I cut him."

"Shoo" is all Aran says to his friend.

Archie waves us off and whistles as he beelines around parked cars.

Meanwhile, Aran shuts the back door and heads over to the driver's side. I follow after Ryan, but she gets to the back passenger door first, and I stand there like a plank.

"Hop in the front so you can watch the way," she says. Then she slides into the back seat without leaving me a choice.

I don't know why my pulse flutters in my veins as I hoist myself up by the handle and climb into the passenger seat, but it does. There are butterflies flitting all over my body. Maybe it's because I'm too cold. I shut the door, and the smell of his car slams into me.

It smells like boy. Not that I know how guys smell, in general. That's just the impression I get. It's like soap and something a little rich, and when Aran leans my way slightly to pull at his seat belt, I catch the exact same soap scent coming off his skin.

I quickly turn around to pull my seat belt too. But now the smell is imprinted in my brain. And my brain is melting like caramel under too much heat.

"Anyway, Maddie. Tell me about you."

Ryan's sudden comment snaps me back to reality. A reality where I can't start going mushy over a guy who smells mouthwatering, because he has a freaking girlfriend.

Goodness, what is wrong with me?

"Um, so. I'm not very interesting? Creative writing major. Twenty-one. I knit?"

"And you love strawberries, from what I've heard."

I laugh a bit. "Yeah, they make me happy."

Aran cuts a quick glance at me but says nothing as he turns the vehicle on, and the heating starts with a roar.

"Creative writing sounds cool, though. What do you write?"

"Fiction books. Mostly YA." I clear my throat. "That's young adult, in case you don't know."

"So like, Twilight type of thing?"

I shift a bit so I can glance over my shoulder. Ryan looks curious rather than mocking, so I relax.

"Not quite, but same age category."

"So when will we see your work in bookstores?"

I'm at a loss for words, because there's genuine excitement in her voice. None of the mockery I get from my mom or anyone else who is also not in this writing life. I peek over at Aran, and he looks chill too. Like we're talking about something totally normal.

"Oh." I sag into the seat, more overwhelmed than I want to show. "Um, actually, my first book comes out in less than three months."

At that, Aran shifts his attention to me for a second.

From the back, Ryan says, "Get out! For real?"

"Yeah."

"That's remarkable!"

"It's no big deal," I mumble, turning away so I can blink back tears. I wish Mom had reacted like this when I broke the news to her last year.

"No, that's pretty amazing, Strawberry."

Hearing that from Aran robs me of breath.

"You'll have to give me your autograph," Ryan continues, not noticing that I'm about to break down into tears. "I'll add it to my collection. Although, so far it's only been jocks."

"Her collection is full of autographs from friends," Aran explains. I wipe my face quickly so I can turn to him. My eyes catch on his hand where it's turning the wheel as if it's someone he's caressing. "She thinks one of us will hit it big and she'll be able to sell the autograph for a hefty sum."

"It's what my dad did." She laughs. "One of his childhood friends became a pretty well-known singer, and with the money from the autograph, he bought me my first car."

I like Ryan. She's a chatterbox like me when I'm not being an emotional butt. And she seems genuinely friendly.

A small smile plays on Aran's lips. He must like her a lot too, huh?

Ryan picks up where she left off. "Anyway, that's probably the most interesting thing about me. Other than that, I'm also twenty-one. I'm a bio major. And I'm varsity Strikes."

"The captain," Aran finishes off.

"What?" I whirl around as far as my seat belt lets me. "You're the Strikes captain?"

"Yup. It's how I met this weirdo." She jerks a thumb at Aran. "Captains often have to share duties. Mainly, keeping our kids in check."

"Whoa." I glance between them. "I'm among St. Cloud royalty. I am not worthy."

"Hush, you dork." Ryan waves a hand. "The only royalty here is Aran, who is a royal pain in the?—"

"And we're here," he interrupts, cutting the engine.

I missed the last stretch because I've been watching Ryan, but I recognize the place immediately. It's one of the apartment complexes closest to campus. Even though it's older than where I currently live, it's always in higher demand because it's cheaper. Not a single unit was available back when Rebs and I were looking.

They haul their bags and equipment up the stairs without issue. But I lag behind with my tongue hanging out like a cartoon character. I don't know if I can live without an elevator.

After a moment, Aran climbs back down until he reaches me. "You good?"

Wow, this is embarrassing.

I close my mouth, although he could probably hear me panting all the way.

Ryan jogs back down too. "Don't worry, it's just one more flight. You'll get used to it."

"Will I?" I push myself to keep going. "Because I'm not an elite athlete like you two."

"First month or so, I got winded too," she says. I don't know if it's a white lie, but it does make me feel a bit better.

Finally, we reach her front door. Aran and I wait as Ryan takes off a glove and fishes in the pocket of her knee-length coat for the keys. I'm curious about why Aran doesn't help, since he probably has a key too. Maybe he's not a super affectionate boyfriend.

Ryan opens the door with a "ta-da!"

She walks in, and Aran motions at me to go first. I step into the apartment as Ryan flicks the lights on.

"It's Spartan because I don't actually spend a lot of time here. You can put your stamp on it as much as you want," Ryan comments from the kitchen.

The whole place is painted white. The floor is imitation wood throughout, and the only furniture in the living room is a cream-colored sofa and a TV stand with a flat screen on top. Floor-to-ceiling curtains cover an entire wall. Probably a balcony.

"It's pretty big," I say.

Something bumps against my back, and I jump. But it's only Aran's duffel as he's turned around, shutting the door.

"Let me show you what hopefully will be your room."

I follow after Ryan, casting a glance back. Aran has set down his bag and stick and now has his head poked into her fridge. The boy is always hungry.

"This here is the bathroom." Ryan points at the door immediately after the kitchen. "And the next door is the laundry room."

"Oh, what a luxury. We have a shared laundry room at my current place."

"Right?" She grins. "It used to be a storage room, but my previous roomie and I converted it. And the door across from it," she says, pointing at the farthest one on the left. "Is my room. Yours would be this one."

She opens the door across from the bathroom, with the shared wall to the living room. Even though it's completely empty, I hazard a guess that it's smaller than my current room, but it's free of the Loris of the world, so it looks beautiful to me.

"Um, so what's in the fine print?" I ask.

"Fifty-fifty split on everything except food because I eat like a horse."

From the kitchen, Aran says, "She does."

"You're one to talk," she retorts and shakes her head at me. "So, anyway, your rent would be about…"

My eyes bulge out. I make her repeat the sum. And once more for good measure.

"Are you pulling my leg?"

"Why? Is it over your budget?"

"No!" I gasp. "It's a hundred fifty bucks cheaper than I'm currently paying, and that's with one extra roommate."

"So you're interested then?" Ryan clasps her hands as if she's praying. "Say yes, please. I like you and I really need someone to split the bills with, like, yesterday ."

"I'm about to say yes, but…"

"If your concern is Aran, he won't bother us. Much." She blinks cutely, which is in contrast to the whole badass look she has going on with her pixie haircut and ear piercings.

"No, I mean. You can have your boyfriend over as much as you want, that's not?—"

Someone chokes. Aran, from the kitchen.

Ryan starts cackling.

"What?" I ask, confused as heck.

"Boyfriend? Aran? Mine?" She screeches. "That combination of words is just—nope. Don't make me drink bleach."

I hear coughing from the kitchen. In the middle of the fit, Aran asks, "You thought Ryan was my girlfriend?"

"Well, I—Yes?"

The two of them laugh. Which isn't shocking from Ryan, considering what she just said. But I haven't heard Aran laugh a single time before, and it's jarring. Because it's a good laugh—hearty and entirely unhinged.

My face probably looks like a stop sign. "I take it I was wrong."

"Severely." Ryan smacks my shoulder a few times as she calms down. Wiping a tear off her face, she adds, "I mean, we did try to date during sophomore year, but it was like trying to date a cousin."

"Do you want me to barf all over your kitchen?" Aran asks, his voice still weird.

"Anyway, if it's not about this jerk, what's the holdup?"

"Still money." I bite my lip. "I don't have enough for a deposit or for movers."

"We got you." She puts her arm around my shoulder, steering me back to the kitchen where Aran's chopping up vegetables as if this is his house. "First, there's no deposit."

"For real?"

"Yeah, I'll just add you to my existing contract. And second, you see that guy over there?"

I face Aran, who pauses what he's been doing and raises his eyebrows.

"Um, yes?"

"See all those big muscles on him?"

"Well, no. He's wearing clothes."

His eyebrows rise another notch, and I wish I could've worded it a different way.

Ryan grins at me. "True, but you know they're there just by how he's built, yeah?"

And also because I saw them on a video, but this I have the decency to keep to myself.

"Well, guess what? He'll help you move. And I'll sweeten the pot. He'll get all his goons to help you move as well. For free. How's that?"

I blink hard. All Ryan is missing are twinkling lights around her. That's how pleased she is with her own idea. Meanwhile, Aran resumes cutting vegetables.

"Uh, I couldn't possibly?—"

"It's no big deal. Right, Aran?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Sure, it's not like she has a lot of stuff."

My jaw hangs.

"Great! So when are you moving in?"

"I'm free this weekend," Aran says with his usual gruff voice.

I flap my mouth closed. Open it again. Closed.

They're both so strange. Just absolutely unlike anyone I've ever met. I've only known the guy for a day, and this girl for all of an hour. And yet here they are, casually offering to help me with something I've been agonizing over for months.

Oh, no. Here come the water works.