Page 50 of Off-Ice Misconduct
Well, okay. “Just as much as Luke” is an exaggeration, but I’m somewhere in the ballpark. But, huh, hard for everyone else and soft for him, I fucking love that.
She laughs. “Okay, Ace. Give it to me—platonically.”
My body sighs in relief when she’s finally encased in my hoodie. It’ll have absorbed some of my body heat by this point. The chill air bites my skin, but seeing her bundled up is worth it. The sleeves are too long, and she’s got her hands tucked inside. Plus, it’s generally huge on her, so it covers her hips and the upper portion of her luscious thighs, too. Celeste is beautiful, with a curvy body that I’m definitely attracted to. My issue with Celeste isn’t attraction, it’s intimacy. Sex is all it would be between us, and I stand by that I wouldn’t do that to her, especially now that I know how she feels about me.
“So?” She quirks a brow. “Forgive me?”
“Totally forgive you, dude. Shit. Um, didn’t mean to say that.”
She shakes her head. “No, that’s fine, too. I know you do that. I was just hurt and kinda heartbroken if I’m being honest. You’re kind of a catch, Ace.”
“You are, too, Celeste. I’m not just saying that. You don’t know how hard I wish I could give you what you wanted.”
“Thank you for not doing it just to save my feelings. That would have been so much worse. So … who’s this mystery person who stomped on your heart?”
“Just some guy.” I shake my head. “Seriously, dudes are the worst, eh?”
She giggles. “It’s kinda adorable when you do that, you know? The eh. You little Canadian half-breed.”
She knows my mom was Canadian. And, yeah, she saideha lot. I picked it up a little. That pulls my joy to the surface. I love the idea that maybe I keep Mom alive through me.
“And dudes can be the worst, but you’re not, Ace. Maybe he’s not the one, but you’ll find him or her someday.” She nudges me with her shoulder. It’s a nice sentiment, but Luke is my one, I just have to get it into his thick-ass skull. “Okay, we have to talk some business.”
I knew there was a chance the conversation could go here, but I’m thinking about Luke now, and without my hoodie, my body’s slowly turning into an ice cube. I grab her hand and tug, guiding her off the picnic table.
“Okay, but we’re doing it over hot chocolate. Inside. Come.”
I didn’t want the meeting to be anything other than an apology, at least from my side, so I was glad she brought it up. We’rethe presidents of our houses, we have to deal with this stuff. I’d rather sooner than later, but I would have waited if that’s what she wanted.
Turns out, I was right. None of the Delta Gamma women wanted to miss a mixer with North Point. So I tell Celeste about phase three of our plan to make amends, that mixer would only extend an invite to their sorority. Normally, we invite all the frats and sororities on campus—though Beta Sigma would have been banned this year—but limiting it to Delta Gamma narrows the competition in their favor. She’s pleased with that and says the others will be, too. Even Wendy, since she has her eyes on North Point’s new captain.
What a fucking relief. Maybe I’m not so bad at this president thing after all.
Celeste gets up, still wearing my hoodie, and gives me an innocent peck on the cheek.
“Where do you think you’re going with that, girlie?”
“Trophy,” she says. “When you’re a big NHL superstar, I wanna have proof that Ace McKinnon let me wear his stuff, even if it was just platonically.”
I roll my eyes, but let her escape with it. Why? Why can’t I fall head over heels for her? Instead, it’s stupid Luke.
Now that this is done, I’ve got to head to the house—which will be a long, cold walk across campus without a hoodie—to help with dinner prep before hunting my man down to give him a piece of my mind. I toss my paper cup in the recycling bin, and head out of the cafeteria, head held high, the ever-present knots of anxiety loose for fucking once.
Maybe that’s why I don’t feel the hand until it’s too late. I’m dragged, tripping, fumbling to stand upright, until I’m backed into a solid stone wall in a dark corner between the buildings.
I’m a big guy. It takes a gang of men to drag me like that.
Or just one, larger-than-life professor.
“L-Luke?” I breathe.
“How dare you let her put her lips on you. You’re gonna pay for that, princess,” he says before his hot lips descend, latching onto the tender hollow where my pulse beats, and I forget everything.
Celeste, the cold, even hockey.
I don’t know my name for a short eternity.
12
