Page 3 of Riding the Pine

And I know for sure my friends think dating an older girl is hot. At least one of them has already had sex, too. Is my mystery driver already in college? That would be so fucking cool.

I know girls don’t tend to date younger guys, but I like to think I have a certain level of intelligence, a charm, or maybe it’s stupidity, which makes me shoot my shit, no matter how tall the odds are stacked against me.

That’s it, I’ve made up my mind, I’m determined to ask this pretty girl out.

There’s a new Wreck-It Ralph movie playing at the theater, Ralph Breaks the Internet. I bet my driver is an animated film loving girl, and even if she isn’t, I wouldn’t mind making out with her in the back seat instead.

“Do you play hockey?” The more I stare at her with not-so-subtle glances, the more she looks familiar, but I can’t tell ifthat’s because I want her to be, or if I’ve seen her somewhere before.

When she turns her face toward me, my breath catches. She’s literally taking my breath away just by looking at me. My heart gallops in my chest, and my pulse flutters wildly in my neck and wrists.

That’s it, I want to marry her. I’m going to marry her. It’s decided. She’s everything I could ask for in a wife... beautiful, knows how to change a tire... and did I mention she’s hot as fuck? Because she totally is. She’s just... wow. There are no real words to describe how pretty she is.

But when her green or brown eyes, I can’t really tell from this distance without making it weird and staring for far too long—and in no small part because I’m afraid making eye contact with her will turn me to stone—pin me with what seems to be contempt, my chest withers under her stare.

The pink and red love hearts that sprung from the side of my head in adoration now pop and shrivel like burst balloons. And my wedding plans come to a full and complete halt in my brain.

Uh oh.

She’s looking at me like I’m a complete idiot, and a faint alarm bell starts to ring at the back of my mind growing louder and louder by the second. “I leave the hockey playing to my younger brothers.” She clicks her tongue like that shouldn’t have even been a question, like that was information I should already have known, like she knows who I am.

Oh no.

Something connects in my thawing brain.

Oh noooooooooo.

I’ve been on the receiving end of that look before, or at least one very like the one this chick just threw my way. My mouth dries up, because I know the answer to the question I need to ask without even asking it.

I can live in denial for the next forty miles, pretend I haven’t made the link between the three guys I play hockey with who—now that I think about it—look very like the girl I’m sitting next to, only she has long hair, shiny red lips, and some kind of eye makeup that the guys don’t wear.

The accent, the dark hair, the flawless skin.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

In September, three guys transferred to our hockey team at Riverbend High School from some preppy out-of-state private school their parents sent them to. When I’d asked the twins who joined my class—Apollo and Artemis— why they came down to our lowly human school, they said their mom wanted them to have a public school education.

They said it had taken over a year for her to convince their dad to send them to a local school, to let them have anormalteenage experience, not some spoiled-little-rich-kid life.

They also told me that they had a sister. An older sister.

I’m pretty sure I’m sitting in a car with Athena de la Peña, legendary big sister to the recent additions to not only the hockey team, and Riverbend, but my friendship circle. Which now comes in at a pathetic total of three.

All de la Peñas.

My bride-to-be’s brothers play hockey with me. And as beautiful as she is, and as sure as I am that we’d make a perfect match, I’m not willing to get my ass handed to me by the de la Peña brothers.

“I’m Scott, by the way.”

She stares at my outstretched hand like she’s never seen someone offer a handshake before, which I know is bullshit because her dad’s a famous businessman.

She purses her lips before dropping a hand off the wheel to give mine a shake. “I know. You’ve been at my house a bit. My brothers are on the team, which is why I’m driving to Waterlooto watch them play.” She’s talking like I’m an absolute dumbass, and she can’t believe she needs to spell it out for me.

Just as she finishes shaking my hand, she offers me a blinding smile that has me back on the ropes and planning our wedding. “Athena de la Peña. The bash brothers and the hot-shot goalie are my brothers.”

My chest tightens. It’s true. It’s out there between us, and now there’s no more hiding in ignorance. I can’t try to make out with her then claim I didn’t know who she was.

I take a deep sigh, shift my weight in the chair in a bid to convince my dick to settle down, and erase any previous plans I had to marry the girl who rescued me from the side of the road.

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