Page 51 of Kitty Season
Maybe it’s not just Coach I need to worry about. I’m confident I could hold my own against one of them, but all three. At the same time. Nope, that’s not my kind of threesome. Guess it’s lucky I have a tiny blonde ally.
“Guns away, boys,” Lotte demands, running her arm over Noah’s flexing bicep. “Troye is a Bear now. One of you, and I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason, not only for almost ruining Quinn’s special night with his tardiness, but for breaking her heart by arriving with her most recent mortal enemy.”
I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “Thanks, Lotte. I think.”
“Why did you rock up with Faith?” Brady grumbles, stepping forward from his man-pack. “I didn’t know you two were … known to each other.”
It’s the distraction my shit attitude and smart mouth needed. Good Ol’ Skip never lets me down.
“Relax, Buddy. I’m notknownto your hot professor. Not as well as you are anyway.”
“She’s not mine?—”
“Besides,” I interrupt, closing the gap between us and leaning into his shoulder. “I thought you’d be glad. Without me you could have slipped Quinny our present all on your lonesome.”
All night I’ve watched Quinn watch the door, just waiting for that asshole to arrive. Pretending to be happy while she’s swanned around playing the perfect host, umpired idiots wrestling, and laughed while lounging in the hammock. But to someone who’s spent a lot of his free time cataloging her expressions, it’s clear to see how devastated she was feeling.
Selfishness had me praying this would be it, the long awaited nail in the Quinn/Troye coffin. But with one kiss on the cheek, one megawatt smile—the one reserved for him, the one he doesn’t deserve—my hope was the only thing buried six feet under.
They’re dancing together now, her head tossed back, hair cascading down her spine, shaking with laughter as he whispers in her ear.
God I hate him.
I hate how much she wants him.
I hate how much I want them both.
That is a reality I only came to tonight. I was so angry when I thought he wasn’t coming. Maybe angrier than I’ve ever been at anybody. But I was fucking gutted too. Any spare time I’ve had since Quinn’s whisperedyes, has been spentresearchingvarious … well I guess you’d have to call them porn platforms.I figured since I don’t know what I’m doing, I should study and solo practice some of the expected moves.
It’s been very enlightening. Terrifying, slightly humiliating, but enlightening.
The way they’re holding onto each other now though, as the music slows to a sappy ballad and their bodies sway as one, yeah, no one else is sliding between them.
Or on top, beside, or underneath.
“What did that dance floor ever do to you, young man?” I turn to find Faith beside me, looking hotter than any teacher should in a fitted red dress and matching lips. “You’re giving it the frowning of a life time.”
“Why do people keep saying that to me?”
“Why do you keep frowning?”
“Why are you here?”
We both narrow our eyes. Neither wanting to be the first to concede. I win.
“Fine, since I’m clearly more mature, Coach Harris invited me as a way to get to know the team outside of the rink. He thinks observing them in their natural habitats will help me understand team bonding rituals.” She points to the pile of soaked hockey players climbing from the pool. “Now you.”
Purposely not frowning, I point to Quinn.
“Ahh. I see.” Plum silently shifts on her feet, glancing back and forth between me and the lovebirds. I’m starting to think that’s all she has to contribute, and am slightly disappointed no words of wisdom are coming my way, when she bites her lip, furrows her brows, then nods. “You know, she’s very protective of you too. Without knowing why, I’ve feared she might claw my eyes out on several occasions. And yes, she’s dancing with him, but she watches you an awful lot. As for him.” She nods to Troye, whose hands are molding Quinn’s ass cheeks with little regardto who sees. “For someone he spends a peculiar amount of time taunting and claiming to hate, he speaks very fondly of you.”
I gape at her. Gape. “You’re kidding me? Him?Him?Hespeaks fondly ofme? You speak to him often, do you?”
“No. Only when I come across him sitting at a train stop, looking more sorrowful than a young man on the way to his girlfriend’s party ever should.”
I try to seem disinterested, but my eyebrows aren’t listening and reach my hairline before I can stop them. “I’m not sure if I’ve told you this, most likely you’ve figured it out for yourself, but I’m not good with people. Reading situations, and things seemingly obvious to others is often a difficulty for me. My little trip with Mr. Becker and his refreshing bluntness, helped me see that I’ve crossed the line with you, Brady. It was done with your best interests at heart, but it was done all the same, and I’m very sorry for that.”
This is a turn I was not expecting. I reach for her hand, then pull back. “Hey, I don’t know what he said, but you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I think you’re great.”
