29. Josie

29

Josie

V an and I walk into the hockey house like it's no big deal, like we do this all the time. And I guess we will, from now on. It's a little hard for me to believe that the last twenty-four hours happened, but I can't deny that they did. I had a little too much to drink at Booker's last night. And who knew Dirty Shirleys could act as a truth serum? I should be embarrassed, but I can't be, since my tipsy confessions led Van and me to a place where we could openly admit our feelings.

And that has led me here, to the hockey house. Van holds a bag from the diner in one hand and the other is clasped in mine. I reach for the door, but Ollie opens it from inside before I can even turn the knob.

Immediately, the cheering starts. There are catcalls and hollers and I think maybe someone has an air horn? It's a wonder this place hasn't been shut down by either the college or the neighbors.

"Two for fucking two! Goddamn , I'm a great matchmaker," Ollie crows as Van leads me into the living room.

There are stains on the wall from the smoke and water damage last week, and the couch that was on fire is probably a pile of polyester chemical waste right now. Various chairs and loveseats are scattered around, so there's plenty of room to sit. That doesn't stop Van from pulling me onto his lap, and I don't mind at all.

"Two? How do you figure?" Van asks as he digs through the bag of takeout we brought over. He figured the contents of his fridge would be questionable, so we stopped for sustenance before coming home. Well, not home. Not my home anyway, but his.

Ollie scoffs before stealing a fry from the aluminum container. "Franconetti and Mel were my first foray into matchmaking, and those two are madly in love?—"

"They just broke up two weeks ago," Rosco interjects.

Ollie glares. "And they got back together. And they are happier than ever."

"And one of us is right fucking here," Will says, waving his hand.

As though he's a shark lawyer on a courtroom TV show, Ollie turns his attention to his star witness. "Do you or do you not love Melanie Cohen?"

"Why does it sound like you're officiating our wedding?" Will asks.

Ollie's not deterred. "So you're not planning to marry her?"

Will laughs. "Dude. She's not even in the room! And I'll ask her before I tell you or my mom. And I think I'll finish college first. But, also, yes, of course I love Mel. But if you love your balls, you'll never call her Melanie again."

"See? He's a lovesick fool. That's what I call success. And you two," Ollie continues, pointing to Van and me, "are only my second match and look—you're practically glued together. So fucking cute it makes me a little sick."

Van laughs. "Is that a compliment? Also, you can't take credit for this, Olls. Josie and I got together years ago. We didn't even know you. Hell, you were just starting your senior year in high school out in fucking California when I first asked Josie out."

"Exactly," he says, shrugging. "I wasn't here and you guys didn't last. Now I'm here, and you're happy as pigs in shit. See? Great matchmaker," he declares, pointing his thumbs back at himself. "Ooooh, I should start a website. Or maybe they'd give me a column in The Howler . I could take requests from the lovelorn and make the whole campus fall in love, one couple at a time. Or throuple. Or whatever. I'm an equal opportunity love specialist. Who's the girl who writes the ‘Am I the Dumbass' column? I need to talk to her about getting some space in the paper."

"Claire Fowler," I say her name at the same time Pete does. We both know her because she's a Legacy Scholar recipient, too. "She's really nice," I tell Ollie. "I'm sure she'd be happy to talk to you." Ollie beams and Santos glares. I'm not sure what that's all about, but Van tugs on my arm, so I turn to him before I can puzzle out what has my friend's face in a scowl.

"Don't encourage him, Jos," Van says, handing me my grilled cheese.

"Wouldn't matter anyway," Norris says, looking up from the video game he's playing against Dean. "Once Jablonski gets an idea, there's no stopping him. If you doubt me, go look at the giant dick on the kitchen floor."

My eyes go wide, but everyone else just nods.

"Oh, shit! Did anybody paint the dick last week? Mickey!" Dean yells toward the stairs, "Get down here and bring the silver paint." He hops up from his spot on the floor, and Santos shakes his head before scooping up the abandoned controller and picking up where his teammate left off.

I look to Van for an explanation, but he just shakes his head and offers me a fry. I take it and pop it into my mouth.

Seconds later, I hear footsteps and turn to see the man formerly known as Bouncy Guy descend the stairs. And he's still bouncing. He's got at least as much energy as my brother Milo after polishing off three chocolate bunnies on Easter morning.

"Hey, Van, you're back. You missed optional skate for, like, the first time ever. What the hell? Plus, you said we'd run passing drills after."

"Sorry, Mickey, I had a busy day. A really, really good busy day," Van says, pressing a kiss to my temple. "You've met my girlfriend, Josie, right?"

I'm a little overwhelmed by all the physical attention, but not in a bad way. It's not what I'm used to, but it feels good and I don't want it to stop.

Mickey smiles and it's easy to see why girls on campus swoon over him. He's lean but strong, with dark auburn hair and a boyish grin. "Hey, Josie."

I wave and smile and then blush because oh my god who waves at people? Should I have shaken his hand? Should I sit on my hands so I don't do anything else with them, like spontaneously offer him a high five? Ugh. Why was I cursed with awkwardness?

But Mickey just waves back, like that's a totally normal thing people do when they're three feet away from each other.

"So…yeah. Do you wanna hit the ice later? Norris said he's in if you are, and?—"

"I'll run drills with you," Rosco volunteers. "Van can stay here."

This suggestion does not go over well. "No way. Van has to come—he's the best. He always sees exactly what I'm fucking up and he knows how to fix it. But I mean, yeah. You can come, too, Rosco. I gotta go paint the dick, but we'll leave in like, twenty minutes?"

Rosco clears his throat and Ollie makes wide eyes at Mickey, then at Van and me. These guys think they're being subtle, so I hold back a giggle.

Norris, the goalie, is a little more direct. "Let Van and his girl have a little more time together, huh? You go paint the dick and then we'll head out."

Mickey blinks. "She had him all day. Besides, I want Van there because—oh. Oh, shit. Yeah, my bad. You guys are gonna go have sex, right? Totally cool."

I want to bury my face in Van's neck, but then Mickey turns around. "But like, if you're gonna have a quickie or whatever, you could just come to the arena after."

Norris takes a breath. "Dude. Inside thoughts. We have had this conversation before."

"Right, right," Mickey agrees as Norris steers him toward the kitchen.

Ollie's just shaking his head. "I love the guy, but I have no idea how the hell he gets as much play as he does."

Mickey pokes his head back in the room without missing a beat. "It's the hyperfixation. When I get really into something, it has all of my attention, you know what I mean? Plus, my dick's really b?—"

I can't help it. I burst out laughing and Van does the same.

Rosco's cracking up, too. "You know what's even crazier? He went for two grand at the bachelor auction. A whole sorority pooled money together to bid on him. Mickey was the biggest money-maker of the night."

Ollie's nodding. "Right? The fuck? Van and I only brought in $250 each. It boggles the mind."

I go a little stiff in Van's arms, which is totally unfair, but jealousy isn't logical.

"Does that bother you, Jos?" he asks in my ear. "It shouldn't."

"I know," I say, purposely keeping my voice quiet. "It doesn't, not really. If it did, that would be ridiculous. You had every right to go out with the highest bidder, whoever she was. Although, I'm with Ollie on this one. The bidding should have gone much higher."

"Aw, you think I'm hot," he teases. "And the date was awesome. Ollie and I doubled with sisters?—"

"I have no right to be jealous, but I still don't want to hear about it," I say.

Ollie mustn't have heard me, because he starts spilling all the details. "That all-you-can-eat buffet was fire. And I cleaned up at BINGO. Those were good times, man."

I look at my boyfriend. "Is he joking?"

"Nope," Van answers, pulling me in for a quick kiss. "We were bid on by Gladys and Martha, two of the ladies at the senior center where Mel interns. And they may not be big spenders, but they're both on fixed incomes. Tons of fun, though, if you don't mind being home before the sun sets. You would love these ladies. You have the same taste in cardigans," he jokes, tugging at my sleeve.

My phone buzzes and though I know what it will say, I check it anyway.

Zane : Home with the hellions.

Levi : Home

"Everybody in?"

"Yeah," I tell Van. "All safe and sound. I should probably do the same. I have a test tomorrow and I need to look over my notes."

He hugs me tightly before lifting me off his lap and standing up. "Let me walk you back?"

"It's barely dark. And I am fully capable of walking home," I say. "Go to the arena with your teammates."

Van's shaking his head. "I'm not asking because of the dark or because I think you can't get yourself home safely. Why do you think I started walking you home from the library every night?"

"Because of the buddy system?" I guess.

"That's smart, but no. It's because I wanted to spend an extra five minutes with you. And that's what I want now, too."

How can I turn that down? We say our goodbyes and walk out hand in hand, the same way we came in.

A few hours later, I'm finally ready for the week ahead. I've studied for my test, done all the assigned reading, and finished the research portion of an upcoming paper. Feeling accomplished, I treat myself to a chapter of Forever After before turning out the light to go to sleep. Ward has just escaped captivity, and when he finally makes his way to London, Susanna doesn't recognize him. I've read this book dozens of times, but I still want to shake the heroine. She's at a society ball being called upon by half a dozen suitors. She declines each dance, even when courted by her one true love. She can't see past his long hair and beard, or maybe it's the scar that reaches from the corner of his mouth up to the top of his ear. Either way, she dismisses him, choosing instead to stand against the wall, observing rather than participating. Unsatisfied with her cursory glance and wounded that he could be so easily forgotten, Ward follows Susanna across the room, fixes her with his icy gaze and says his iconic line: "True love waits." Just as my heart is melting, my phone lights up.

Mel's about to get an icy glare from me. This is one of my favorite passages, and she's interrupting. I can't be too grumpy, though, because I'm pretty sure I have the whole chapter memorized.

I glance at my phone, ready to tell Mel she's at strike one for interrupting my 37th reading of this novel.

But there's no message from Mel. What I see on my phone screen makes my heart melt more than any line in any book I've ever read.

Van : Home.

Before I can overthink it, I send one back.

Josie: Home. ??