21. BROOKLYN

CHAPTER 21

brOOKLYN

O livia gives me one last withering glare over her shoulder, and slams my bedroom door with so much force that it rattles the wall.

I think… she's mad at me.

A tense silence took over the entire drive from the St. Cloud home arena to the Bolt House. I could tell by the way her expression gradually hardened, how her knuckles grew whiter as she gripped the steering wheel, and by how she refused to meet my eyes, that she moved well past the worry stage and into anger.

I kept my mouth firmly shut, first, because it hurt less than opening it, and second, because anything that could spill out of it would only make her angrier. I can't help but feeling like I won the lottery seeing her react so strongly. The pain's worth it to know she cares this much.

The best I can do for now is give her some time to cool off, and then start a subtle plan of attack. But how do I get her to start seeing me as a guy and not as her friend who puked green slushie in the seventh grade?

Obviously, my brain hates me, and once I recall that memory I wince—which makes my face really freaking hurt. I sit down on my bed and toe off my sneakers, removing my bomber jacket at the same time. It's probably going to take nothing short of a miracle for Liv to look past all my embarrassing moments.

"Yeah, I'm doomed," I utter in the quiet of my room.

Slowly, I pull the hem of my long-sleeve shirt up and take it off in a civilized way, rather than grabbing a random handful of it and pulling it off. I'm going to have to be a bit careful when doing anything for a while, now that I have three-inch slice on my cheek.

I can't believe I convinced Liv to come watch my games and got injured basically right away. It's pretty insignificant and if it hadn't been because she was so distraught, I'd have stayed to watch the rest of the game and driven myself home.

She's never going to forgive me for this, though. And that's going to make it that much harder to make her fall for me, no matter how much she cares about me.

"Stop. You're not made for thinking, Brooklyn," I tell myself as I remove my socks and ball them up with the rest of my clothes. I toss them clear across the room and they land in a haphazard heap on my desk chair. "See? You're a man of action. You'll act when the time's right."

Nodding, I recalibrate myself. Give Liv time and space to cool off. Act like nothing's amiss. Push the agenda that scars are sexy. And for now, maybe take a nap. That's as far as my pea brain can think of. The big stuff will have to happen on the fly.

Getting back up, I hook my thumbs around the waistband of my joggers and pull them down before?—

The door opens.

My eyes fly up. Liv stands on the threshold holding up a bag of frozen peas. Her eyes lower. I check myself just in case I forgot to put on any underwear after showering. But no, there's the black boxer briefs. Yet, there she is, soaking every inch of my bare skin up with her eyes. She seems particularly into my thighs.

Interesting. Maybe this won't be as difficult as I feared.

"Are you gonna keep staring?" I bite my lip so I don't smile. "Or should I just take it all off?"

Her brown eyes snap back up to mine, her glare intensifying. "Why the hell are you undressing?"

"I thought you were on your way home."

"No, I was trying to get fresh ice for your face but your fridge is disgusting." A crease forms between her eyebrows the more she talks. "Well, aren't you going to dress back up?"

If all she needs is a modest amount of nudity to get affected, I'm not going to fold so easily. All I do is pull my joggers back up. Surely she can deal with a naked torso and bare feet, right?

I lower myself back to sit on my bed and paraphrase her question. "Well, aren't you coming in?" As I lean back with my hands on the mattress, her eyes seem to fixate on my shoulders.

How funny, most girls would lose their marbles at my abs. I wonder if they lost their impact because she already saw them at the library.

Maybe she's finally realized that I'm teasing her because her eyes narrow. Liv pushes the door shut with her elbow and activates her feet. My heart pounds faster with every step she takes, even though I know she's not going to suddenly sit on my lap and eat my face. She wouldn't even do that if I wasn't injured. To her, I'm still her annoying guy friend.

Her hand rises abruptly and I flinch at the cold against my face. "Here, hold this so I can call an Uber."

Instead of doing as told, I keep her hand firmly in place. I tilt my head back to look up at her, into her eyes. "Stay a bit longer."

Liv's quiet as she observes me, her eyes roaming around my face as if searching for something. But just when I expect her to argue back that she has to go or something, she instead runs the fingers of her free hand through my damp hair. "Damn puppy eyes of yours. You could rob a bank with those."

Would she get upset if she found out I'm trying to rob her heart?

Well, is it really robbery if I give her mine in return?

Clearing my throat, I pull her hand away from the thawing bag of peas and maneuver back until I lay down on my bed, my head on the pillow closest to the wall. Then I pat the empty expanse beside me and crank up the sad, watery puppy eyes that disarm her.

"Ugh." She huffs, but she unzips her leather jacket and retraces a few steps to hang it on the backrest of my busy desk chair. I swallow hard as her knee sinks into the mattress, then the other. My bed is a king size for tall people, which means she has to crawl on all fours for a brief stretch to get to the other pillow.

All throughout, my ever helpful brain supplies a fantasy of Liv doing precisely that, but with a lot less clothes.

I smack the pea bag on my face hard enough to hurt. At least it snaps me out of it before I can start openly salivating at her.

We lay on our backs, staring at the ceiling for a long moment. It's not what I wish we were doing, but at least she's still here. Her warmth seeps through my arm and I know if I stretch my hand just a bit, maybe even my pinky, I'd touch her hand.

I'm debating it when she says, "Does it hurt a lot?"

If I say yes, would she use it as an excuse to fight or would it make her stay longer?

"It hurts a lot less with you here."

There's rustling as she shifts on her side to face me. I'm happy to do the same and turn to my left, folding my left arm under my head. I balance the pea bag on my face as I watch her. She has both hands tucked under her head in a kind of praying position. A few strands of her hair have fallen over her face and they must be tickling her. With my right hand, I brush them away and she stays very still through the motion.

Whatever I thought she might say after that, isn't what actually comes out of her mouth. "I really think you should put on a shirt."

"Is this bothering you?" I ask in a droll.

"No," she says in a calm and level-headed way that annoys me.

"So what, is it my body odor?"

"No, you smell fine." Fine? Fine? I smell damn amazing after a shower. Is this woman made of steel? I guess that must be it, because she shrugs. "You're going to get cold."

"Trust me, I run hot. I normally sleep naked."

Liv blinks hard and avoids my eyes. "Um, but I mean, you have the frozen bag on your face and your hair is still wet so…"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down before she can hear the wild thumping in my chest. The problem is that it brings the warm vanilla scent that clings to her and inundates my lungs. I blame the lack of oxygen on what I do next.

Lifting myself up for a moment, I slide my left arm under her head until I replace her pillow with my shoulder. The bag of peas slides off my face and back, where it's going to stay forgotten now. With my right hand, I pull her against me by her waist. Her hands form a barrier against my chest and they feel like ice on my skin, either from the frozen peas or because she's the one who was cold.

"See? I'm plenty warm."

"Ah, yeah. I see."

I smile into her hair, not even caring that it feels like a knife is stabbing my face. My arm under her neck curls up to hug her shoulders and with my other hand, I rub lazy circles on her back. A shudder racks her body and I hum from deep in my throat. "Looks like you're the one who was cold." Or something else.

"It's an uncharacteristically cold October," she says with a serious voice. "Lucky for me you're a furnace, huh?"

"Very lucky," I say into her hair, my voice surprisingly drowsy.

"You must be tired," she says, her breath fanning against my neck, soft as a feather.

"Hmm." I'm not tired, I'm content. I close my eyes anyway, just trying to savor this moment. Liv doesn't speak again, and after a moment I feel her body relax against mine. That's the true bliss, knowing she's comfortable with me.

Our breathing evens with every passing second, and next thing I'm really asleep.

*

I try to shift to my other side, but a weight prevents it. And the weight is warm, too. And it smells delicious, like a dessert I want to run my tongue over.

My eyes pop open. It takes a moment for them to adjust to the dim light of my bedside table. I must've left it on overnight. Then I lift my head from the pillow, but all I can see is a head of dark hair. Laying my head back down, I blink up at the ceiling.

It's Liv. She's sprawled over me like she owns me.

The most shocking part is how she's not waking up, even though she can probably feel the furious beating of my pulse against her face, which is buried against my neck. I can feel softness of her chest pressed up against mine. Worse, her thighs straddle my left one. And if that wasn't all, my right hand found its way under her sweater and yep, her skin is so much softer. The softest. So warm. My fingers twitch and the minuscule friction sets me on fire.

I'm breathing fast. Heat travels down my body, focusing on every contact surface. Especially my freaking thigh, all snug against her as if it had any right. I need to—she can't wake up to this. I have to make this right.

Gritting my teeth like I'm bench pressing twice my body weight, I lift my hand away from her bare back. Liv gives out a little moan and I squeeze my eyes tight. Slowly, I continue removing my right arm from around her.

"No." The word comes out from her throat like a whine, and I freeze. "Don't leave me."

It takes me a moment to realize she's talking in her sleep. And another moment to figure out it's probably not me she's talking about. After all, I've never left her. She's the one who left me.

So, is she dreaming about her ex, whatshisface?

A pained groan lodges in my throat. I'm such an asshole. Who cares if I want her now, when she's still dealing with her feelings for her ex?

Sighing, I grab her shoulder to shake her awake—and my phone starts going off at the same time.

Liv jolts. She pushes slightly against my chest, but instead of jumping the hell away like I thought she would, her nose brushes against my jaw as she looks up.

We blink at each other. My phone still rings on the nightstand. Realization about what kind of position we're in falls on her slowly, her lips parting to form a small circle.

My voice is raspy as I mumble, "Aren't you getting off me?"

But it's like her brain's short-circuiting because all she can manage to say is, "I—I?—"

And I guess mine does too, because all I can think about is: she's not running away. She knows exactly what all is pressed against her and she's not jumping away like I'm burning her .

Licking my lips, I hold the back of her head with one hand, and her back with the other. Her breath hitches as I roll us over. It's not my fault her thighs ended up spread apart, or that it's so easy to kneel between them and stretch over her to grab my phone. Or that it puts us right where I want us to be, our hips against each other, her thighs around my hips, and when I look down at her I could kiss her so easily.

But Liv doesn't seem to be breathing. Either I'm too heavy or she's in shock. So this is enough teasing for today.

I push up onto my hands and lean back on my haunches. While I glance at my phone screen, I feel the mattress shift with Liv sitting back up. I will murder Dane later but for now I cancel his call. It's two in the morning and I could've enjoyed sleeping with Liv for three more hours if it hadn't been for him.

"Sorry about that." I murmur, watching her fold her leg so she can scoot over to the edge of the mattress. "It's just Dane, but we can—" My phone starts going off again.

Liv clears her throat, her back to me as she lowers the sweater that had ridden up. "It's okay. Maybe pick up the call."

She sounds normal. Too normal.

I narrow my eyes as I watch her head over to my desk chair, but pick up Dane's call. "What?"

"Dude, you finally give signs of life. We were worried."

"I'm okay, just taking a nap." Liv's eyes flash to me for a second as she shrugs her jacket on. "Let's talk later," I say, hanging up before he can get another word in. Jumping from my bed, I grab Liv's arm before she makes it to the door. "Hey, let me get dressed and I'll take you home."

"It's okay, I can just grab an Uber?—"

"Liv, please." I sigh heavily. "It's the least I could do, okay? Let me."

"Okay," she whispers, folding her arms but keeping her eyes downcast to the side. Like she's embarrassed .

Shit. I pushed her too hard.

I make record time of putting my socks and sneakers back on, and shrug on my shirt fast enough that it catches on the bandage stuck to my cheek and makes me wince. I grab the jacket, my phone and keys, and we walk out of my room in silence. This one's worse than during the drive.

Should I apologize? But she's the one who was all over me. I should apologize anyway. I could've just crawled over her to get my phone.

"Liv, I'm?—"

"Sorry," she says before I finish. "I didn't meant to, like, grope you in your sleep."

I rub the back of my head. "If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me," I say as we walk down the stairs with her leading the way. "I'm the one who made you stay and fell asleep all over you and I'm sure you could, uh, feel stuff." I don't even have to say what stuff.

The fact is that I went to sleep with her in my arms, and she was in that same spot in my dreams. The other fact is that I'm a healthy, red blooded male. Things happen. Things that are going wild because of her.

She keeps her attention forward, back to me, and I can't take the awkwardness anymore. "Listen—" But before I fess up about things , we pass the kitchen and two people there freeze me in my steps.

"Well, well," Dane says, his mouth curling into a smirk as he eyes Liv and I. "Looks like we had nothing to worry about. Right, Jamie?"

The other stooge looks equally smug. "Yep, seems like someone kissed the poor, injured guy better."

"You two," I say, my voice changing drastically. "One more word out of your yaps, and I'll feed you your own teeth."

Jamie covers his mouth but his eyes are all shiny like he wants to laugh .

Meanwhile, Liv gives me a deadpan look over her shoulder. "Wow, they're just like you."

"Excuse me, I'm their captain and therefore so much more mature."

"He's lying to you. It takes the whole team to gather a single braincell." Dane pushes off from the counter while blowing a raspberry. He offers his hand to Liv, saying, "I'm Dane Bloom, alternate captain."

"Olivia Rodriguez. If you say one single joke about my name I will make you eat your own teeth." She smiles as she shakes Dane's hand. My chest squeezes with something I have no right feeling. Liv's free to smile at whomever.

"Oh." Dane turns raised eyebrows to me. "So this is the infamous childhood best friend?"

"You talked about me?" She lifts an eyebrow at me.

I stuff my hands in my joggers' pockets and produce my car key. "We should go. It's pretty late."

"Wait, I'm Jamie Schwarz, the other alternate." He also shakes Liv's hand. "Glad to know you're real. I thought blondie was making you up every time he talked about you."

Liv snorts.

I grab his wrist hard and yank his hold on her loose. With one last glare, I steer Liv away by her shoulder. There are snickers behind us as we walk out of the Bolt House and I'm surprised Liv's not giving me heaps of shit for that little interaction.

The temperature outside has dipped a lot since earlier. Liv shivers on our way to where she parked my Gladiator, and I put my jacket on her shoulders. She snuggles into it the whole way over to her apartment.

Either because it's late, or because she's tired, we don't talk much until I leave her at her front door.

"Thanks." She yawns as she slides my jacket off and returns it .

"Buenas noches," I say with my heavy gringo accent, but it garners a small smile from her. "See you in Spanish on Monday?"

Liv nods. "Yep. Drive safe."

I wait until she opens her apartment door and slips inside to put on my jacket. It smells a little like her now. Which means my pillow must also carry her scent.

There's no way I can sleep now. My body's still burning with all sorts of things, but I'll focus on the safest of the red hot ones for now.

When I barge back into the house, I find my two alternates still lounging in the kitchen while they tuck into heaping sandwich plates. My stomach gurgles, but before that I have a different mission.

"Hey, assholes," I say as a greeting. "Let's be a hundred percent clear about something."

"Wha?" Dane asks with his mouth full.

I point at the door as if Liv was there. "That I have no idea what I'm doing but I'm really, desperately into my best friend, and your teasing doesn't help me at all." My anger deflates at admitting the truth, and I sit on a barstool to prop my elbows on the massive kitchen island, putting my forehead on my hands.

"Wait, do you have a crush on me?" Dane gasps in an exaggerated manner. He gets his karma when he starts choking on his food.

"What should I do?" I ask with a groan.

"Here, bro." Jamie passes Dane a glass of milk. To me, he asks, "What do you mean?"

"I can't just spring up feelings on her."

"Feelings?" Dane lowers the borrowed glass of milk. "So like, not lust. Feelings ."

" Feelings ," I repeat in a dark tone of voice. "And everything else too. "

"As in, you want to change her status from friend to girlfriend?"

"From best friend to girlfriend, to be more accurate," I say just to be a little shit. "Which normally might be hard, but she just started giving me the time of day again."

"I don't know, man." Jamie pauses to bite into his sandwich. "The whole tale about how she bypassed Coach Green to see you after the penalty already spread like fire through the team. We all thought it was either a very enthusiastic puck bunny, or your girlfriend."

"Don't panic," Dane says. "That conversation was like ten minutes long tops. Everyone's still at O'Malley's either trying to get plastered, or laid, or both."

"Good to know the team's worried about me."

"Please, we know you're built like a damn ox. We thought the puck bunny would give you all the comfort you needed."

"And that's why you said that flaming piece of garbage to Liv when you saw us, I see." I lift a hand toward him, opening it and closing it.

Dane looks at it warily. "What does that mean?"

My response is, "You either come here so I can punch you in the throat, or you give me the rest of your food. Choose."

He pushes his plate over to me. Wise man. "The point is," Dane continues saying as he watches me eat his other sandwich. "I don't think you need to work very hard to get with her. Just don't treat her like you used to, or like she's any of us, and you're golden."

Jamie nods. "Yeah, man. Open a few doors for her. Carry her stuff. Be nice or something. Girls like that."

I snort and talk while chewing. "I don't treat her like I treat you. I…" But my voice trails off.

A massive cringe shrinks me to half my size. I've been known to put Liv in headlocks, which isn't something I've ever done to a girlfriend. And Jamie's right, the physical contact with a girlfriend is so different. Softer. Lingering. Hotter. Much more intentional.

"That's right." Dane smirks as he watches the realization slam me like a puck to the face. "Treat her like a girlfriend and she'll want to become one."

See? I really am a man of action—and there are plenty of actions I can take with this knowledge. Starting Monday in Spanish.