Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(33)

She tilts her head to the side and smiles at me as if she can read the thoughts spiraling in my head. “I should have offered before. And it isn’t… that bad.”

I can’t think of what to say, so I hug her. “Thank you.”

We grab sodas, and Violet gets popcorn, then we go back to our seats. The Valley players are near our end of the arena. Jordan skates behind the net to retrieve a puck, spotting us as he does. He juts his chin in acknowledgment and smiles.

I wave and then feel silly because he’s around the net so fast, facing the other direction, that he doesn’t even see it. But Liam does and waves back. Then I wave again. A few people look my way to see who is getting attention from the players. So I wave again like I’m just a waving kind of gal. Oh my gosh. I’m going to duct tape my hands to my legs.

Violet offers me some popcorn. I take it to keep my hands busy. Thankfully the third period starts, and I no longer have to worry about Jordan or Liam noticing me.

They’re both on the ice, and they play so differently, like everything else about them. Even the way they skate. Liam has this slower, unassuming way he moves from one end to the other. He’s fast, don’t get me wrong, but he doesn’t really look like it. In contrast, Jordan seems to be everywhere at once. He’s quick and aggressive, darting one way and then the next. I’m exhausted just watching him.

I would have sworn I preferred Liam’s style of play better before seeing it in person, but it’s Jordan I can’t stop watching.

His dark hair curls around his helmet and the wet strands stick to his skin. His dark eyes blaze with an intensity that makes my stomach flip. He never seems to let up or relax. Even when he’s on the bench, he tracks the action on the ice with complete focus.

I’m so enthralled that it catches me by surprise when the game is over.

“It’s over already?” I ask, pulse racing with excitement.

Violet laughs, then stands and stretches. “Already? We’ve been here for almost three hours.”

I take one last glimpse at the Valley bench where the guys disappear down the tunnel. I don’t see Jordan, but Liam stands where he can fist bump each guy as they go.

“Thank you again for coming,” I say to Violet as we push outside.

I breathe in the cool air and try to hang on to the thrill of tonight.

“You’re welcome.” She stares down at her phone. “Jane is still at Eric’s house. They’re playing games and drinking. Could be fun.”

“Yeah. It could be.” Eric is Jane’s friend. He’s a business major but also plays in a local nineties cover band. He’s nice, but nights at his place always end up with him and his friends super drunk and jamming out or talking about the stock market. And he lives kind of far from campus.

Since Dahlia is gone, my options are: go to Eric’s, knowing I might be bored, but at least I’ll be with Violet and Jane, or go home by myself.

Violet looks to me with a hopeful smile. She came here tonight for me. I can suffer through some drunken singing and guitar.

“Let’s go to Eric’s,” I agree. “But can we stop at the house first? I want to change.”

She gives me a once-over in my blue Valley Hockey T-shirt, her eyebrows lifting. “Definitely.”

At home, I send Jordan a congrats text. Then do the same for Liam. My crush has waned a little after hanging out with him at the bowling alley. Liam and I make sense on paper, but in reality, I think we might be better as friends.

“Daisy,” Violet calls from downstairs.

“Coming,” I call back. I change into a dress and add another swipe of mascara on my lashes, then grab my phone and purse. Liam texts back, and that small part of me that still wants him to notice me, feels a blast of happiness as I read his words, Thanks. So glad you made it to a game!

“I’m ready.” I shove my phone in my purse and start down the stairs. I lift my gaze from the steps to the person hovering at the end of the stairway. Jordan’s appearance throws me off balance, and I stumble down the rest of the way.

“Whoa.” He steps forward and steadies me.

I wish I were graceful enough to extract myself and recover quickly, but I basically faceplant into his chest, breathing in his freshly showered scent. One hand goes around him, and the other braces on his stomach—his very hard, defined stomach.

My fingers have a mind of their own, stretching to cover as much surface area as possible and then gliding along his abs.

His laughter eventually snaps the remaining, sane brain cells back to life, and I jump back. My face is on fire as I smooth a hand down my dress and then over my hair.

“I am so sorry.”

“For copping a feel?” He shrugs. “I can hardly blame you.”

His mouth lifts in a cocky smirk.

“For falling into you,” I clarify. I’ll die before admitting I was enjoying exploring his muscles. “What are you doing here?”

“You came to the game,” he says as if that explains his presence.

I look around the living room and kitchen for Violet.

“She’s out front yelling at Gavin because someone parked her in.”

“Ah.”

“I take it that’s a usual occurrence?”

“Something like that.”

“Meaning?”