I blink my eyelashes dramatically, realizing she never saw his face. “Cameron… Wait.” I say, pulling out my phone and Googling him. A really unfair photo of Evan and Owen holding puppies comes up. I hold it out to her. She looks at my phone and then back to me before looking back at my phone. She takes hers out and takes a photo of my phone before shaking her head. “You’re a bitch.”
“Love you too,” I tease as she starts to walk away. “Lunch?” I ask, laughing at her pouting.
“Not until you release your claim.”
“Ha, never,” I say, following her as we come to the fork where she goes toward the dentistry part of campus and I go the other way toward the ACOB. “Not my fault you didn’t call ‘Claim’ fast enough.”
She laughs as we separate to go where we need to be. When a text comes through in our team group chat, I laugh when I see it’s from Cameron and it’s the picture of Evan and Owen.
This is who Callie claimed. The RA. We hate her.
I snort as all the comments come at me.
What a bitch!
Are you kidding me? How is he hung and that hot?
Wait, is he the chunky or skinny one? And why are they both so hot?
Do they have sign-ups for threesomes?
Does anyone know the Google Doc for that? Should I make one?
When everyone agrees, I almost trip over my feet laughing. They’re all such dorks.
Hold on. I have a question. Callie claimed him, but if he denies her, can someone call next?
Within seconds, my phone is dinging with claims, and I just laugh. They are crazy and a bit rude to assume I’ll get denied. I’ve just gotta see him and make him mine. It won’t be hard. I’m an adorable chick, a real catch, and we have hockey in common. I’m not a puck bunny; I know hockey. I mean, I’m in. Easy peasy. I shut off my phone since I can’t have it on in the ACOB and tuck it into my pocket, still laughing a bit. As I reach for the door, it’s pushed open, and my face runs into a very hard chest. I bounce off him. Not far, but it makes me unsteady. I grab on to the door as he fumbles with his belongings. I look up just as the person I ran into looks down at me.
Evan Adler.
Fuckadoodle.
Green eyes. Or, no, blue. No, a breathtaking mix. Wow.
Oh. My. God.
Talk, Callie!
“Oh.”
Wow, riveting.
“Sorry, my bad. I really pushed that door,” he says, gathering his stuff. He looks down at me, expecting me to further the conversation, but instead, I just gawk at him. It’s extremely uncomfortable, and thankfully, he moves so I don’t have to. “Here,” he says, opening the door for me as he tucks his books under his arm. When he smiles and I see the dimples in his cheeks, I forget how to walk. So, of course, I trip on the threshold of the door he has open for me as I try to go in. I brace myself and glance back at him.
“You good?”
I nod. “I think so?”
“You sure?”
“No?” I answer, holding his gaze.
“No?” he asks, confused.
“I don’t know?”
“Okay?”
“Okay?”
This is fucking pathetic. He grins once more and then hooks his thumb behind him. “I gotta go.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says, still grinning. “Stay weird.”
I press my lips together, but not even the force of my jaw can keep me from saying, “Stay hot.”
He looks back at me, his eyes wide, and then he chuckles. “This is by far the strangest interaction I’ve ever had.”
I give him a half smile, and when I go to lean into the door, I miss the frame and fall to my death. I let out a shriek, and I swear I can hear him laughing as the door shuts.
Between us.
I glance over to see him leaning to the side to look at me through the window. He holds up a thumb, and I hold mine up in response. He then jerks his behind him before turning to jog away.
I’m unsure if he really needed to go or if he was running from me.
Probably the latter.
I wish I could run from me.
seven
Evan
“How you doing?”
I pop my head into the screen for a second so my sister can see me. Shelli is lying back in her bed, a bowl of ice cream on her growing stomach. Since I’m getting ready for my introduction to the Bullies’ gymnastics team, in my crisp khaki pants my mom got me, I have my phone propped up. Mom also ironed my pants for me, so I look super professional. But if you ask Owen, I’m spoiled. I might be. As I grab my team shirt to throw it on, I have only my head in the screen since I don’t think my sister wants to see me changing.
“I’m okay. Tired. Ready for this kid to come.”
I nod as I take her in. She’s huge and swollen, but she’s smiling. “I bet. You look great. Glowing, really.”
“Aiden washed my hair for me. He’s a doll.”
“Got the golden egg with that one,” I say, grinning at her. “Have the doctors given you an ETA?”
She shakes her head, visibly frustrated. “Not at all. I’m not even showing any signs of this kid wanting to come out. Do you know how hard it is to walk in heels being this big? I want video evidence that Mom did it when she was pregnant with us, because it fucking hurts.”
I snort. “I heard when she was pregnant with us, she went on the ice in heels.”
“She’s not even human.”
“Agreed. She ironed my pants for me,” I say, showing her my outfit.
“Spoiled rotten!” she teases. “Though, she did come and paint my toenails for me with Zac on her back.”
Together, we shake our heads in awe of our mother before saying, “Superwoman.”
We share a grin, and then she asks, “You excited for your first day?”
“I am,” I say, sitting down and holding the phone out. “I had therapy this morning. It’s in the autism building on campus. I like my therapist. She and Angie are friends.”
“Fantastic. It’s Kayla Shaw, right?”
“How did you know that?” I ask, bringing in my brows.
“I know everything,” she laughs. “No, I got her number from Angie. Kayla wants to develop a program here like the IceCats have.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I know,” she agrees. “Hey, she’s super pretty. You should holler at her.”
I give her a dry look. “Yes, I’ll sleep with my therapist, the one who knows I hate myself.”
She mirrors my look. “Ev, come on. Don’t feel that way.”
“I wish it were that easy,” I admit. “I’m getting better. Dad cornered me.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh God, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It helped. It did. He said everything I was thinking.”
“Ah, okay. Do you feel better?”
“Eh, maybe not better, but not dwelling, if that even makes sense.”
“It does,” she says like a promise. “You know we’re all here for you.”
“Absolutely, I know.”
“And you know you’re my favorite.”
I laugh. “I know. Thanks.”