Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Jami Davenport (classic novels to read .txt) 📕

Totally spaced it.” I stood quickly, nodded to my teammates and Naomi, and was gone before they had time to react. I’d performed my second disappearing act of the night.

I glanced over my shoulder before exiting the house. Naomi threw back her head and laughed at something Patrick said, and he gave her one of his you’re the next notch on my bedpost grins as he drove the final nail in my Naomi coffin.

For the next several months, hockey would be my end-all, be-all. Sports were a lot easier to figure out than the rest of my life. But all that being said, Naomi was still a friend, and I’d treated her like crap last weekend.

I had to settle up with her.

13

Not so Easy

Naomi

Be careful what you wish for.

I’d never understood that particular saying until now.

For whatever reason, Patrick was definitely interested. Almost overnight, I’d moved to the top of his ask-out short list. After Paxton left the hockey house, I didn’t want to stay either, despite Patrick’s heavy flirting. I left, claiming I had to meet a friend at the library.

The next day after practice, Patrick offered to buy me a drink at the Biscuit. While such an invitation wouldn’t be considered a date in most cases, with Patrick it was. Three weeks ago, I’d have died for the chance, but I asked for a rain check, and I really wasn’t sure why. Patrick seemed surprised but took my answer graciously and without any personal offense. I did appreciate his ability to let most things roll off his back and enjoy life. I wished I was more like that.

While I had a mind for numbers, my personal life wasn’t nearly as ordered. I often wondered if my love of numbers and stats came from the chaos in the rest of my life. Currently, things were more tumultuous than usual because of my conflicting emotions when it came to those gorgeous twins.

As I was heading back to the dorm, I got a text message. My heart rate spiked when I saw Paxton’s name on the screen.

Paxton: Can we meet?

Me: Sure, where? The library basement?

What made me type that and send it? And what if he accepted the invitation? Instead, crickets.

Me: Just kidding.

Paxton: How about the coffee shop in the union building?

Me: Just passing there now.

Paxton: See you in a few.

I got there first, ordered a decaf, and sat down in a seat next to the window where I’d be able to spot him. About five minutes later, he came in the door carrying a shopping bag.

He smiled when he saw me and sat down. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I grinned at him, genuinely glad to see him. “You got your hair cut.” It had been somewhat unruly and longer than usual.

“Yeah, it was bugging me.” He ran his hand through his now short-cropped hair as if checking the length. Pax had never been much for his appearance. He didn’t need to be; he was gorgeous without putting any effort into it. I felt this insane urge to slide my fingers along his scalp and check things out for myself. I liked the longer hair on him, but this look was good, too.

We grew silent, neither knowing what to say to the other. Paxton looked down, fidgeting with his phone, oddly nervous. I waited him out. He’d called this meeting, and I’d let him say what he’d come to say.

Pax looked up and met my gaze. “I’m sorry. About a lot of things. I was an ass to you last Friday night, and I owe you an apology. I sorta lost it.”

“Apology accepted.” I reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. He wrapped his fingers around my hand. He stared into my eyes, and that one look sucked my breath away. So much was reflected in his eyes, longing, regret, uncertainty. I felt the same way.

“I miss you,” he said in earnest.

“I miss you, too.”

“I have something for you.” He held the bag out to me.

I took it and peeked inside, but the item was wrapped in tissue. I pulled it out and unwrapped it, holding it up. The green and white Moo U jersey was emblazoned with number fifteen. I didn’t know what to make of it. Fridays were jersey days, and most of campus wore the jersey of their favorite player. I’d always been jealous of the girlfriends who wore their guys’ jerseys. Was Pax trying to tell me something? I glanced up questioningly at him.

“It’s to help you remember which twin is which.” He laughed, and I realized with relief and a tiny bit of disappointment, this jersey didn’t mean anything more than a peace offering in the way of our private joke.

“I’ll wear it proudly,” I declared, and I meant it.

He beamed at me. “So, we’re good?”

“We’re good. We’ve always been good. Pax, you are very important to me, no matter what happens. Don’t forget that.”

He squeezed my hand and ducked his head. I wondered if he was getting as choked up as I was. He meant so much more to me than I was able to articulate. In fact, maybe more than I understood myself.

“This physical thing between us is really fucking up our friendship,” he said, not meeting my gaze.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what’s what.”

Disappointment flickered across his handsome face. I hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. He forced a smile. “I’m okay if you want to date Patrick. I may not like it, but I’m okay with it.”

“I don’t know what I want, and that’s not fair to you.”

“Then let’s stay friends.”

“If we can.” I laughed, and he joined in.

“It’ll be hard.”

“I know, but you need to concentrate on hockey, and I need get my head on straight.”

“Friends?” His blue eyes sparkled as he held my hand to his lips.

“Friends. Always.”

He kissed my knuckles and released my hand. “I have to get going. See ya.”

“See you.” I