Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(76)

Taylor smirks. “Cheer the team now; hate on him later.”

The next time Eric loops around, my palms sweat.

He doesn’t raise his head to the audience, so I don’t have to think about him noticing me. He’s focused on the game.

Not nervous, like me.

Boone saw me on campus recently and mentioned that Eric had quit for one game. I’m glad he’s back where he belongs. Something swells inside me. Pride. Even if he doesn’t care about me in the same way, I’m happy for him.

I lean forward as Eric skates down the ice with the puck. He dodges a hit, spins around behind the goal, then slams the puck to Reece who scores. Instantly, we’re on our feet and jumping up and down as the siren blares.

At the last intermission, the game is tied as the players file off the ice.

Eric still doesn’t come close to looking at me.

After the Zamboni does its magic and the players filter back onto the ice, I stand up and rattle the glass. “Go Lions!”

But as time ticks down to the two minute-warning, there’s still no goal on either side. My eyes alternate between checking the seconds ticking down on the overhead clock and the game.

Finally, Eric skates out for his last shift in regulation. I lean forward as he and another player hit the boards, hard, not two yards from me. They grapple, sticks click-clacking together, trying to free the puck.

In the middle of the tussle, his eyes suddenly shift up . . . higher, higher . . . and meet mine.

He pushes off the opposing player, and maybe I imagine it, but I swear he smiles at me.

And then he’s off, puck glued to his stick, heading for the opposing team’s goal before his opponent even realizes he’s gone.

I know the buzzer is coming. Just as the final seconds hit, Eric pulls his stick back and fires a shot that cracks through the arena like a whip. Pow.

The goalie dives and misses.

Goal!

The crowd roars louder than ever and I yell with them. Taylor and Poppy and I hug, then hug the strangers behind us.

On the ice, the players are hugging.

I’m sure Eric’s at the center of it, getting adoration he deserves.

“Hey.”

I turn around and there he is, pressed against the glass right in front of me. My heart skitters in my chest as I take him in, still breathless and sweaty.

He left the team for me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he calls.

I can’t help smiling. “Wanted that present.”

He points his glove. “Meet me over there. In front of the locker rooms.”

He skates away as the crowd cheers and the Lions shake hands with the opposing team.

“You need us?” Taylor asks as we exit our row. He gives me an arm squeeze.

“No, I can handle this.”

They leave, smiling at me.

I get to the hall to the locker room but can’t go any further because of the security guard. Eric taps him on the shoulder and points at me.

“That’s Julia Lauren.” His eyes capture mine. “She’s with me. Always let her pass.”

The guard nods and steps aside and I walk down the hall toward him.

I stop a few feet away, my hands tight against the strap of my purse. I drink him in. The fire in his eyes. The exhilaration from his win.

“Julia . . .” He pauses and exhales.

“Yes?”

He tosses off his gloves and takes my hand. “Will you give me half an hour to get changed? Just wait here for me?”

How can I say no?

I nod jerkily.

He lifts one of his hip pads and pulls out a Ziplock. Unzipping it, he tugs out a piece of paper. “This isn’t your gift. It’s, um, something I wrote, sort of as a way to explain.” He leans against the wall as he toys with the paper. “Will you read it? While I’m showering?”

“Why?”

“I don’t think I can handle it if you read it in front of me.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Hansen, Hansen, Hansen comes from the locker room.

A small smile crosses my face. “Your team is calling. You need to go.”

He presses it in my hands, his grasp warm. “I’ll be back soon.”

I unfold the paper.

I’m not a poet,

That’s the first thing you should know.

But sometimes it’s only in the lines of words That I can hear myself think.

The first time I saw you, You were a lamb

With dreams in your eyes.

You reminded me of the me I wanted to be, Innocent and sweet.

I wanted to taste that part of you, did you know that?

But I also wanted you because I’m a selfish prick.

I took your kisses,

Without care or conscience.

I’m sorry.

I can’t change the person I was Before.

But now . . .

My favorite moments of us are Your Converse on my floor, Your hoodies on my bed, The butterflies over your bed, The way you fit in my arms.

When I see your eyes now, I see a wolf.

Strong.

Fierce.

Beautiful.

Worthy.

And you know it because you tossed me aside.

I’m a dumb fuck.

I got lost.

I lost my journey.

I lost the path to hockey.

I lost you.

And happiness.