Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(28)

“Sure.” I’m good with that. “Wanna go find a room?”

“Um.” She presses her lips briefly together. “Yes. But no.”

“Damn.”

This is funny, considering that I turned down her offer to find a room and now she’s turning me down. Only I’m not laughing.

“I can’t stay late. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Again, damn.” I sigh. She’s right. I recognize that voice in my ear—it’s reason. Dammit.

I need to listen to that voice. I need to stay out of trouble this year. Having Skylar as my fake girlfriend is supposed to help me do that.

It’s working. No other girls are throwing themselves at me or even flirting with me, although a couple have given me interested looks. But why do I feel like Skylar could be a whole lot of some other kind of trouble?

I give her long eye contact that makes my dick even harder, then turn. With my arm still around her waist, we move back into the crowd to mingle. It’s not a huge party, but obviously people here are hockey fans who were at the game and who’re eager to congratulate us on the win. Some guys want to dissect the play and discuss possible lines and how we could do better. I love talking hockey, so this is fun for me. Skylar’s listening and seems engaged, but I wonder how much fun it is for her. She’s doing a great girlfriend imitation, though.

Skylar and I separate as she starts talking to some girls about a course they were in together, but a while later she’s back. “I’m going to find Ella and head home,” she says, rising on tiptoe to speak into my ear.

I pull out my cellphone to check the time. “I guess it is getting late.”

But after looking around, we can’t find Ella. Skylar bites her lip and casts a glance up the stairs.

“You think she’s up there?”

“Probably. Let me text her.” She quickly sends a message.

“You think she’ll answer you?”

“She better. We never leave each other at a party unless we know the other’s safe.”

I nod, impressed. “That’s smart.”

Skylar’s phone pings and she peers at it. “She says she’s fine and she’s going home with Eric.”

“All right. Did she drive here?”

Skylar shakes her head. “No. We took the bus.”

“Okay, then, I’ll take you home.”

“You’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah.” Again, I’m on my best behavior because if I got caught driving drunk, I’d be out on my ass. “Let’s go.”

I find Buck talking to Jimmy, and give them both slaps on the shoulder as I tell them I’m taking Skylar home. Leaving this early would get me some snarky comments normally, but since I’m leaving with a girl I get smirks of approval.

Skylar is quiet on the drive to her place. This makes me nervous. I’ve been with lots of girls, and there’ve been a few I dated more than once, but I’ve never had a real girlfriend, so I’m not that great at knowing what’s going through a woman’s head. Skylar’s not really my girlfriend, so I’m not sure why it matters to me, but I like her.

So since I’ve always found it best in hockey and in life to just go for it, I say, “You’re quiet. Everything okay?”

She gives a quick nod. “Oh yeah. Sorry. I’m…I’ve been a little concerned about Ella lately.”

“Why’s that, baby?”

“She’s been acting different since our friend died. I mean, I’m not all judgy and prissy. It’s fine to drink and hook up with guys. Yet every time I try to talk to her, it comes across as me nagging her like a mom, or being a big prude.” She rolls her eyes. “So I’ve backed off, but she gets drunk every weekend and she’s been hooking up with a lot of different guys.”

“Huh.” My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “You know, that sounds like normal college stuff.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’ve backed off. It might be just me overreacting. But I have this feeling that even though she says she’s okay, she’s not.”

“Ah.” I like it that she cares about her friend, but I don’t like it that she’s worried. “You know her better than I do. If you have a feeling, you’re probably right.”

She turns to me, her face shadowy in the dark car. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that.”

Did I do something right? I don’t even know. I nod.

I park in front of Skylar’s house and walk her to the door. The house is dark so I wait until she unlocks the front door and steps inside to turn on the hall light.

I want to kiss her.

She’s not my real girlfriend, so I don’t have to end this “date” with a kiss…but I want to. Every time I think about kissing her and how sweet her mouth was and how soft her body was pressed up against me, it turns into me either fighting off a woody or wanking off. “So about that making out…”

She gives a soft laugh that relieves me. “Come in.”

I follow her inside and close the door behind us, my blood racing hot and straight to my dick. We walk into the living room, where she turns on another light, a big floor lamp in the corner. I sit on the couch and lift my chin.

She’s so pretty. I watch her walk toward me, her jeans hugging her hips and thighs, the hem of a sheer top fluttering beneath the thin sweater she has on over it. Her long hair shines gold in the light. She sits beside me by first setting one knee on the couch cushion, then tucking that leg beneath her, and she rests her arm on the back of the couch so she’s facing me.