“Should I have made you sing me a love ballad?”
I relax, really relax, for maybe the first time I’ve ever been with him. Then his large palm stretches out on my thigh and all the nerves and butterflies are back. Because if he isn’t a player, there isn’t anything stopping me from letting him kiss me again.
And maybe more.
13
Rhett
Adam knocks on my open bedroom door. “House meeting in five.”
I look up from my phone. “All right, but I’m not taking a shot every time I want to talk.”
House meetings around here tend to end with us solving very little and getting drunk instead.
He snorts. “I already warned Maverick the apartment is dry until after Friday’s game.” He lingers, leaning on the doorframe. “Carrie?”
“Nah.” Though she’s texted plenty, too. “I’m texting Sienna.”
“What’s she up to?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t sent anything yet.” Since we went out Tuesday night, I’ve been struggling to figure out what the next move is.
Adam clicks his tongue. “Maybe say ‘hi, how are you doing?’”
“What if she responds with ‘K’? Then what? It’s been a couple of days and I think I might have waited too long.”
“Bring your phone,” he says, pushing up to his full height. “We’ll tackle that after the meeting.”
We gather in the living room. Maverick always attends our house meetings even though he doesn’t live here. He’s here as much as the rest of us, so it makes sense even if it doesn’t make sense. He’s on the couch with Charli next to him and a metal water bottle in his lap.
“That better be water,” Adam says, sitting in the worn leather chair.
I grab a chair from the dining room table and pull it into the living room.
“What’s on the agenda, Cap?” Heath asks. He and Mav bump fists. They give Adam a lot of shit for these house meetings, but they’re usually—no, always—the cause of them.
“I want to make sure the guys are keeping straight until after tomorrow’s game. I know everyone wants to party and celebrate, but we can’t have anyone fucking around and getting hurt or showing up to practice hungover.”
“Pretty sure Ketch was still drunk this morning,” Heath says.
A few of the younger guys went out again last night and practice this morning was shit. You’d think it wouldn’t be such a struggle to stay sober for three freaking days. But it’s exciting and unlike us, the younger guys don’t appreciate just how fucking rare it is to get this far.
The vein in my buddy’s head is popping. A sure sign he’s stressed. “Exactly. That shit can’t fly.”
“He still managed to block most of what we threw at him,” Mav pipes up.
“Most,” Adam emphasizes.
“He lives in the dorms. How are we supposed to make sure he doesn’t drink?” I ask.
“Glad you asked,” Adam says. “I am inviting all the guys to stay here tonight.”
“Here?” Heath points with both hands to the floor.
“Mhmmm.”
“You wanna have a fucking sleepover?” Mav barks a laugh. “I apologize for my language. Please strike the f-word from the minutes.”
Heath pretends like he’s scratching it out from an imaginary pad of paper. “So noted.”
“You’re serious?” I ask, trying to bring us back to the topic. The thought of our place sleeping even half the team makes my brain hurt.
“Some of the guys aren’t going to like you fucking with their routines,” Heath says. “And we can’t exactly enforce it.”
“Like hell I can’t. Nothing is getting in the way of us going to the Frozen Four. Nothing.”
None of us have spoken the phrase Frozen Four since we won the semifinal game Monday night. The Frozen Four is this end goal that we’ve all been silently working toward but don’t talk about because we don’t want to jinx it.
“Okay.” I’m the first to agree. I trust Adam’s instincts as our captain and if he thinks this is the best thing, I’ll support him. “Where are we going to fit everyone?”
“We have three apartments if you include the girls.” He nods toward Dakota and Reagan’s apartment across the breezeway. “I'll sleep there with a few other guys. They said we could use their living room. The rest will be here and at Maverick’s.” He shrugs. “It’ll be tight, but we’ll make it work for a night.”
“Fine, but Ginny’s staying over tonight. It’s my routine on home games.”
“It’s your routine every night,” I add. Our rooms share a wall so I’m well aware of his ritual of banging his girlfriend every night. She’s his lucky rabbit’s foot and he rubs that shit every night.
“Just...” Adam sighs. “Sneak her in before the guys get here. I don’t want to hear them all bitching about how unfair it is that you get to shack up with your girlfriend and they don’t.”
Heath smiles, fighting back a huge grin. “Anyone else find it funny that this guy is telling me to sneak his sister into my room?” He looks around to us. “No one? Well, I think it’s fucking hilarious.”
“Or she could stay at her dorm if you prefer.” Adam scowls.
“No, no. I’ll sneak her in.” He chuckles. “This is turning out to be more fun than I thought already.”
“Anything else?” Mav asks.
“Uhh yeah.” Adam glances to me. “Rhett needs our help texting Sienna. He’s overthinking it.”
I glare at him. When he said we’d tackle it, I thought he meant the two of us.
“Shouldn’t you have loads of experience in the art of sexting after dating Carrie for six years, most of that long distance?”
“This is different,” Adam answers before I can. “This is new relationship stuff.”
“So dick pics?” Heath asks.
I put my face in my hands. Fuck my life. “No, not a dick pic. I just want to say hey and make plans with her sometime.”
“I’d go with a dick pic. That says it all. Trust me.” Heath grins. I think he enjoys saying shit like that just to get a rise out of Adam. But I wouldn’t be surprised at all to learn Heath is sending photos of his junk to Ginny on the regular.
Carrie wasn’t into that, and I’ve thankfully never had to try to take a compelling picture of my dick to send a girl.
“Nah, nah, I’ve got you, bro.” Maverick stands, holding Charli in his arms. He drops his dog on my lap. “Hand me your phone.”
Charli is a cool dog. Super chill and pretty damn cute, too, but I’m not sure what he’s going for when he says, “Say Charli’s the best dog in the whole world.”
“Charli’s the best dog in the whole world,” I repeat, and give his French bulldog a little rub behind her ears.
“Okay, never mind. That one didn’t turn out. Just smile.”
Maverick stands in front of me for a solid minute taking photos until I can’t smile any longer.