Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(61)
And I know, I know, it shouldn’t matter, but being seen by someone like Jordan feels amazing. He could have any girl he wanted, and he wants me.
This time after the game, I head around to the parking lot behind the arena to wait for him. I stand next to his SUV, crossing my arms over my chest to keep warm and to have something to do with my hands.
When the first guys start coming out the door, Jordan’s among them. I step away from his vehicle and wait for him to see me. He says bye to his friends and comes toward me in long, quick strides.
The ends of his dark hair are wet and stick up around his head. One hand is wrapped around the strap of his duffel bag, and he hits the unlock button on his key fob with his other. He tosses the bag onto the back seat.
“You look nice,” he says, circling both arms around my back.
“Thanks. Congrats again. I’m starting to think all you needed to start winning was for me to come to the games.”
He laughs and hugs me tight against him. “A little sweet Daisy magic sure doesn’t hurt.”
He kisses me, but more guys are coming out and getting in their cars, and one of them calls out to him, “Yo, Thatch. Are you coming to McCallum’s?”
“Yep,” he answers without looking at him. He smiles at me. “Ready to party, baby?”
I expected McCallum’s apartment to be as quiet as the rest of campus on break, but it seems like every single person still in town is crammed into the small space.
Jordan grabs us both a beer, and we’re standing in the dining room where people are playing cards at the table. We’re not playing, but it’s a fun reminder of the last time we were here.
We stand close. The heat of his body warms my left side. He’s talking to one of his teammates. They’re talking hockey, and my gaze roams around the party.
In the living room, people are playing video games. A couple is making out next to the front door. Small groups stand in circles in every space that isn’t occupied with furniture—music pumps from one of the bedrooms.
I can’t seem to catch my breath. Nerves and excitement have lodged a lump in my throat. I feel different tonight being here with Jordan—really being here with him.
Two girls approach us—a pretty brunette and a blonde with the longest legs I’ve ever seen. The brunette makes a beeline for Jordan, not even seeing me beside him.
“Where have you been?” She launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and plastering her curvy body covered by a sparkly gold dress flush against him.
He chuckles and lets the hand holding his beer, curve in to give her a small hug back. “Hey, Cybil.”
She pulls back and swats him on the chest, then rests her fingers there. “Seriously, Thatch. Where have you been?”
My cheeks are on fire when Jordan glances at me. “I’ve been around.”
He leans into me. “Cybil, meet Daisy.”
She finally looks at me, and I can tell the second it hits her that I’m here with him.
“Oh,” she says. “Hi.”
“Hi.” The word comes out so quietly I’m not sure she even hears it.
She turns her attention back to Jordan. “I’m going to do a lap but come find me later. I miss you.”
As quick as they came, Cybil and her friend turn and go.
Jordan’s teammate left in the middle of the Cybil tornado, leaving me and Jordan alone.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “She’s a friend. Civil major, too.”
He’s slept with her. I know this, but I’ve already made a big deal of leaving the past in the past, so I just smile and say, “She seems nice.”
He chuckles and takes a long drink of his beer, then cocks his head to the side as if he’s trying to decide what now. “You want to play cards?”
“Okay.”
He nods and leads me to the table where he pulls out a chair for me and then takes the one next to me. It’s a different card game tonight, with more rules that Jordan teaches me. I’m not as interested in playing as I was the last time. I want to kiss him again, maybe make out in the corner like the couple still going at it by the front door. I can’t decide if it’s some exceptionally good kissing that lasts that long or exceptionally bad, because every time Jordan kisses me for more than three seconds, I want to tear off my clothes.
At the end of the second game, I lean closer to him. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“First door on the left.” He tips his head toward the hallway.
“Save my seat?”
He lets his hand drift down to my leg and along my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Definitely.”
“Be right back.”
The hallway is crammed with more couples stealing kisses and small circles of girls whispering quietly. Cybil and her friend are among them, but neither looks up as I weave through them to the bathroom.
I text Violet while I’m locked inside. I’m at a hockey party. Me!
I send it with a selfie of me posing in front of the bathroom mirror making a funny face.
She responds immediately. You look amazing. Have fun! See you soon.
Clutching my phone to my chest, I breathe in her words. I miss her. I wish she was here with me. Not that I ever could have convinced her to come. I finish in the bathroom and open the door.