Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(5)

A slow smile lifts the corners of his mouth. His forehead crinkles as his brows raise in surprise. “Double major?”

I wet my lips and nod. A few seconds pass before I realize the polite thing to do is ask him the same question back, even if I already know the answer.

“What about you?”

“Civil engineering.” He pokes his pencil toward Jordan. “Both of us.”

I refuse to look at Jordan again, but I aim a smile between them.

After thirty minutes, my anxiety finally abates enough that I find my voice.

“You play hockey, right?”

“Yeah.” Liam beams at me. “How’d you know.”

I point to Jordan’s Valley U hockey T-shirt.

“Right. Have you been to a game?”

“No,” I admit, now wishing I hadn’t brought it up.

“What? Never? What year are you?”

“Sophomore.”

He shakes his head and shoots me a playful smile. “You’re missing out. We’re pretty good.”

He’s being modest. They won the Frozen Four two years ago, and last year got pretty close to going back to the national tournament.

Jordan, who’s stayed quiet except for reading instructions, speaks up, “Don’t bother, man. It doesn’t really seem like her kind of thing.”

He does a quick and dismissive once-over of my dress and boots. At five foot four, I’m slightly shorter than average, and my small bone structure makes me look younger and smaller than I am. I probably won’t be strapping on pads anytime soon, but violence in of itself doesn’t bother me. Though admittedly, I don’t completely understand why anyone thought it was a good idea to put a bunch of guys on ice skates and give them sticks and permission to ram into one another.

“It is,” I protest.

“Yeah?” Jordan grins. “My mistake. Who is your favorite hockey player?”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Home games are the best,” Liam ignores him, leaning forward and blocking Jordan from my view. “The roar of the crowd and excitement is like a big party. You should come sometime and see for yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I don’t really know why I haven’t gone before. It’s just one more thing I’ve passed on for safer, quieter options. Plus, Violet has sworn off sporting events unless it’s for Dahlia, and all my friends are friends with her.

The rest of the class passes with more small talk, and the three of us finish the assignment before anyone else.

“We work well together,” Liam says as he hooks his backpack over one shoulder.

“Yeah,” I agree a little breathlessly. My heart races like it did earlier. “Thanks for letting me join.”

“Of course. Have a good day, Daisy.”

I suck in a breath at my name on his lips.

“You too, Liam,” I chirp back.

Jordan hangs back a second, and when I don’t say anything, he chuckles. “Yeah, great. I’ll have a good day too.”

I speed walk to the café to meet Violet. She’s already sitting with a coffee, her sketchbook in front of her. When she sees me, she looks up and breaks a smile.

“What happened? You look way too happy.”

“I talked to him.”

“Who?”

“Liam.” I pace in front of her, waving my hands wildly. “And he talked to me. Like a lot. He was so nice, Violet. Like not just polite, but friendly. He asked me questions, and he invited me to come to a hockey game.” Or maybe he just said I should go to a game. Whatever. It’s as close to an invite as I’m ever getting.

“Whoa. Seriously?”

I nod my head quickly like a bobblehead.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it. What spurred you to do it? Was it all the Pride and Prejudice? Women knew how to speak to dudes back then—cut them with words without even trying.” Her eyes widen. “Ooooh, or was it the dress?”

“My lab partner was absent again, and I got moved to their group.”

“Their?”

“Liam and Jordan,” I grumble the second name a little. It would have been a perfect two hours if it weren’t for him.

“Ah, the bad boy to your good guy crush.” She takes a bite of her sandwich. “One of them is faking.”

“I don’t think it’s Jordan.”

“Then maybe Liam isn’t really that nice.”

“He is, Vi.” I finally sit and remember dreamily how considerate he was. No one else would have welcomed me into their group like that. He was everything I hoped he would be. No, even more.

“All right, if you say so.” Violet leans her elbows on the table. “You finally talked to him. Now what?”

Now what, indeed.





3





JORDAN





The mood in the locker room is thick with frustration. My shoulder blades rest against the back of the wooden stall, and my breathing still comes in quick, ragged gulps. Sweat pours down my face. I haven’t moved yet, but I can already feel the burn of my muscles in my quads.

“Fuck me. That was brutal.” Even talking is painful.

Liam grunts beside me. He hunches over, elbows on his knees and a towel draped over his head. A glance around at the rest of the team tells me everyone is hurting as bad as we are.