Jersey Girl (Sticks & Hearts #1) (10 page)

"Ummm, how about no naked study sessions?" He smiles proudly.

"Seriously? Are you pulling these rules out of your ass? I think I can refrain from getting naked in front of you."

"Oh, really? I seem to recall one morning when you were willing to get naked with me." A devilish chuckle falls from his gorgeous lips.

"Are you ever going to let that go? Yes, that first morning I'd have gladly sucked your dick and let you have your way with me. But that was all before you freaked out about your
precious
code." By now, he's practically on the floor from laughing so hard. The harder he laughs, the more frustrated I become. Leaning forward, I take both of his hands in mine and intertwine our fingers. It gets his attention and achieves shutting him up. He gives a pained look but doesn't pull away. "Can we please put that behind us and try to move forward? I really want to be your friend, B."

His hands press firmly against mine, his thumb brushing back and forth over my knuckle, and once again I'm lost to the sensation of being this close to him. "I'm sorry. I want that too. And I promise to stop teasing you about that shit. Though, I must admit, I'm not going to stop thinking about it. It was hot as hell, and you know it." He winks again then leans forward to kiss the back of my hand. "So, friend, when do you want to start studying?"

"Well, the test is this Friday, so the sooner the better. How about tomorrow night? You can come to my dorm and I'll even feed you." I smile and bat my lashes at him and I'm rewarded with another chuckle.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to bribe me, but I never turn down food. I have practice until five so it'll have to be after that. Will that work?" We stand and make our way out the door. A quick glance at the clock tells me we've been here more than two hours. That's funny; when I'm with him it feels as if time's standing still.

"I'll be ready and waiting." I laugh, climbing into the car. The ride back to the dorms doesn't take long, and when it's time to get out of the car, I find I don't want the night to end. "Well, I guess this is me," I announce, pointing to my building. "Just text me tomorrow when you're here. I'm in 322. I'll make sure my roommate is gone so we can concentrate."

"Uh huh, you sure you're not just trying to get me alone so you can finish what you started the first time you had me alone?" He laughs, bringing his arms in front of his face to block my hands from smacking him. "Last time I mention it, I swear." He's still laughing when I get out of the car and when I look over my shoulder as I enter the building I can see the whites of his teeth and know he's still cracking up at my expense.

"Idiot," I shake my head.

***

The following day seems to drag as I anxiously await our study session. I sail through music composition before spending a frustrating hour in calculus. Every day I have to sit through that class leaves me wanting to walk away and yell
I give up
! I'm fairly certain unless Brantley can pull off a miracle and teach me how to grasp the mathematical concepts of calculus in four days, there is no way in hell I'm going to pull off a passing grade in this class. Here's hoping he truly is the calculus god he claims to be.

It's a beautiful fall day, and as I make my way across campus, I marvel at the way the leaves on the trees are beginning to turn. The entire campus is dotted with a wide variety of trees. Oak, maple, sycamore, and linden provide a protective canopy over large sections of my walk back to the dorm. While I may hate my calculus class, I've fallen in love with this campus. One of my favorite buildings is Hill Auditorium, because of its subtle beauty. The outside is made up of concrete and brick with built-in columns at the entrance. But the inside will take your breath away. With its domed ceiling, oval stage, and seating for thirty-five hundred people, it's definitely a venue I covet to play my composed pieces.

I've barely stepped through the dorm's entrance when Dan Harwood stops me on his way out. Dan sits next to me in Psych, but he doesn't live here so I assume he's visiting a friend. He's a junior who plays defensive tackle on the football team.

"Hey, Cassie. Do you live in South Quad?" He takes a step back to allow me through the door.

"Indeed I do. What are you doing over here?" I shuffle my backpack from one shoulder to the other and move aside as people pass by.

"One of our pledges lives here. I was just here to give him a hard time. You know how it is." His eye closes in a quick wink, as if I were somehow privy to one of his fraternity secrets. I haven't a clue what he's talking about, but rather than admit to it I just smile and offer a polite laugh. "You should come to one of our parties sometime. I'll let you know when the next one is coming up."

"Hey, congratulations on the win last Saturday. I heard you made a few great plays."

"Yeah," he shrugs, and I see the faintest hint of a blush spreading over his cheeks. "Don't you come to the games? I'd love to have you watch me play."

I shake my head while scrunching up my nose in distaste. "I'm not much of a football fan. I'm more of a hockey lover."

"I guess I can understand that, being Rivers' sister and all. I've been to a few of his games. He's an awesome player," he exclaims, and I beam with pride. I love watching my brother play hockey.

Growing up, it's how I spent most of my weekends during the winter. I remember how I used to complain that I was wasting my Saturday sitting in a freezing cold hockey arena, and then I discovered how cute hockey players were. Scotty used to hate it, because I would hang around after a game, hoping for a chance to talk to one of his teammates. He used to hassle me about it and was always quick to point out that his friends were way too old to be interested in a kid like me. I didn't allow his words to deter me. I was young and it was fun to dream. Then I started dating Justin, and rather than hanging around hoping for a chance to talk to a player, I spent every Saturday afternoon after practice kissing my favorite player.

But that's all in the past.

"Yep. He is pretty amazing," I glance longingly at the stairs and try to recall if I bothered making my bed before I left this morning. "Listen, I better be going. I have a killer calculus test coming up I have to study for. I'll see you in class tomorrow," I throw my hand up in a wave and leave before he has a chance to say anything else.

I finally enter my room and see that it's five o'clock. Roni is still here, but by the way she is gathering her belongings I can tell she is on her way out.

"Hey," I say as I drop my backpack on the bed. "Are you leaving?"

"Uh huh," she replies with her head down, digging under her bed to retrieve a wayward bra. She pulls it out and shoves it into her bag. "I might end up staying at Josh's tonight. You don't mind, do you?"

"What? No. Not at all," I furrow my brow in confusion. "Why do you think I would mind?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "I mean, I know you don't like him that much."

I open my mouth to say something but close it before I get the words out. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but the truth is I'm not particularly fond of her choice in men. I don't say that because I saw him naked, though it did leave a lasting impression, and not a very good one, I might add. The real reason is, he isn't very nice. In fact, from what I've seen, he's even rude to her, though she seems completely oblivious to it.

"That's not true at all." I smile and hope she doesn't see right through me. "It probably only seems that way because we've never been properly introduced. I'm sure he'll grow on me with time."

"That's good, because he's definitely grown on me. I like being with him, for the most part, and the sex is really good." She waggles her brow as she says this, and I can't help but remember walking in on them. I hate to admit it, but it's happened more than once. Every time it happens, Josh never fails to remind me I should have knocked.

"Well, have fun and maybe I'll see you tonight." I turn and begin straightening up my half of the room before Brantley gets here.

"Do you have plans?" she asks hopefully.

I sit down, allowing my legs to dangle over the side of the bed. Brantley will be the first guest I've invited to our room, and I wonder what it will be like having him all to myself in this crowded space. It dawns on me that I really don't know much about him, other than the fact he plays hockey and has been Scotty's best friend since freshman year. I wonder if he liked living in the dorms, or what he thinks about spending his evening hanging out with me when he could be with that red-headed bitch who had her hands all over him at the bar.

"I have someone coming over to study. We'll probably just hang out afterwards."

"So, who is this mystery tutor? Is it the hottie you've been texting for the past week? Maybe you'll get some tonight." Her eyebrows dance wildly up and down as she claps her hands together.

"As a matter of fact, it is, but nothing is happening. Sex will not be taking place here tonight."

"Suit yourself. But if things change I'll expect a full report in the morning." She wiggles her fingers on her way out the door, and I stare after her, wishing for everything I could be that carefree.

BRANTLEY

The shrill sound of Coach Bishop's whistle echoes throughout the arena, as does the collective swearing from everyone on the ice. We've been practicing for two hours, and coach has been running the same play for the last forty-five minutes. Four weeks into our practice season and we still aren't gelling. I'm usually on a line with Kevrick and Masterson, but two days ago Coach decided to move Masterson to a new line and have him work with one of the freshmen. I'm not sure what's going on with Davis, but I'm certain he's going to have a raw ass by the time Coach gets finished chewing it off.

"Davis! What the hell is wrong with you? If you've got a problem you need to talk about, come see me; otherwise, get your head out of your ass and show me some hustle." The whistle sounds once more, and we take our positions. "Again!"

As the puck drops Kevrick owns it, moving across the ice with lightning speed. I skate to his right, reaching the blue line as he passes off to Davis, who finally seems to be paying attention. Davis moves fluidly toward the net, circling around Masterson and behind the net to hand the puck off to me at the last minute, where I launch it high and to the right of Rivers. He never had a chance at stopping it. We make eye contact and I toss him a playful wink, adding insult to injury. I've spent enough years playing with him to know that nothing pisses him off more than me sneaking one past him during practice.

"Fuck you, Cage," he growls from behind his mask, but I see the glimmer of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He may get ornery, but he still loves to see me shine. Our jealousy only stems from sheer competitiveness, but we always give each other our full support. When he was drafted before me, I was the first to shake his hand and congratulate him. If circumstances had been different, and I hadn't been drafted the following week, I still would have been happy for him.

Our celebration is short lived as Coach's whistle gives off two quick chirps, indicating it's time for drills. Sticks, gloves, and helmets are tossed on the bench before we line up at one end of the rink. Twenty sprints later, we head to the locker room, a sweaty, exhausted mess.

I toss my helmet and gloves in the top cubby of my locker. My practice jersey comes off next, before I drop to the bench and bend to take off my skates. Davis stomps in and his helmet whizzes past my head. It bounces off the lockers and skips over the floor before finally coming to rest just outside the entrance to the showers.

"I take it you got reamed out again. What's going on?" I don't bother looking up, by now he's seated beside me and grumbling under his breath.

"Nothing. Just got some shit on my mind. You got plans later? You want to head over to Skeeps with me?" he asks, referring to a local bar that's actually called Scorekeepers. A group of us usually head over there on nights we don't have practice.

"Sorry, buddy, I'm heading over to South Quad after I shower." I peel off my compression shorts and drop them in my hockey bag. Leaning forward, I'm hit with the stench that can only come from the inside of a hockey player's duffle. It's a strange combination of sweat, shit, and vomit, all neatly rolled into one package and trapped inside the walls of a four-foot poly bag.

"The Quad, what's over there? You got a hot little underclassmen you're keeping tucked away?" he laughs, chucking a skate over his shoulder.

"Actually, I'm meeting up with Cassie for a tutoring session," I reply then make my way to the showers. He's hot on my heels as I reach forward and turn on the water.

"Holy shit!' He leans forward and lowers his voice. "Does Rivers know about this? He's gonna flip his shit when he hears you're spending quality time in his kid sister's room."

"Why the hell does everyone think I'm out to screw her just because I'm hanging out with her? It's calculus, nothing more. Besides, we're friends, and I wouldn't want to do anything to screw that up," I insist.

"Since when are you and Cassie friends? Matter of fact, since when are you friends with
any
girl? Most of them only want one thing from you, my friend." He makes a clucking noise with his mouth before turning away and I flip the double bird at his back.

"Since I ran into her at a party one night and walked her home. She's a really nice girl who's looking for a friend."

"And you're that friend? Interesting," his voice trails off as he turns off the water and heads back to the locker room.

I grab a towel and knot it around my waist before trailing after him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Cage. Spending time with a woman isn't usually your thing, unless it's between the sheets. And that's all fine and good," he looks around to be sure no one else is within earshot before continuing, "but we're talking about Scott's sister. What about the code?"

"Trust me, the code will remain safely adhered to. She's just a friend, and if he has a problem with that then maybe he should consider making more time for her instead of cramming his head so far up Ashley's ass." I yank on a pair of jeans and grab my bag. "Catch you later."