Page 73 of Bad Crush
“No one.” Her thumbs tap on the screen.
“Are you texting one of the guys? Is it Mav?” Ginny asks.
“What?” Dakota looks up. “No, I told you, it’s no one, okay? So, are we going or what?”
“Your mom won’t mind?” I ask Ginny. “We just got here.”
“She has to work, and it isn’t like I’m here to hang out with her anyway.” She grins. “I’m up for it. Heath will lose his mind.”
“I’m not so sure Adam will be as happy to see me.”
“He will,” Ginny reassures me. “Now, let’s go watch the movie and drink all the wine.”
* * *
The followingafternoon we arrive at the game and find seats behind the Valley bench. I sent Adam a text this morning wishing him luck on the game, but his response was a one-word,Thanks.
Needless to say, I don’t feel great about how he’s going to react to me coming to the game. Heath spots Ginny right away. He gets this goofy grin on his face anytime she’s around. I love them together.
Adam’s slower to spot us. Maverick nudges him, and he looks up and scans the crowd until he finds me. One side of his mouth pulls up, and he lifts a hand. I wave back and try to communicate how sorry I am and how much I don’t want this thing between us to end before it’s even really started.
I doubt he gets that from my meek wave, but I send it out into the universe anyway, hoping he feels it.
Valley won the game last night, but today the guys look sluggish. Or that’s what Ginny says after the first period when Valley is down by two. I’m watching, but really only seeing Adam.
“They can’t lose,” I say. That would feel like a seriously bad omen for the night ahead.
When the guys take the ice to start the next period, Adam looks up at me. His smile is bigger this time, and I feel just a little bit hopeful that we’re going to be okay.
Adam wins the face-off, and Heath chases a long pass. Ginny’s on her feet, yelling and clapping. Heath and a guy from State are up against the boards fighting for the puck. He manages to kick it out, and Maverick is close enough to take possession and send it to Adam, who is waiting on the right side. The puck sails toward the goal, and the lamppost lights up.
Dakota and I join Ginny, and the three of us scream so loudly you’d think he just won them the game. Adam skates toward the Valley bench and points. At first, I think he’s pointing to the guys—it’s kind of hard to tell with the big gloves he wears, but when he winks, I know it’s for me.
Valley ekes out a victory, and as soon as the game’s over, we head to the parking lot behind the arena where the Valley bus sits, waiting for the guys.
“Is that Carrie?” Ginny asks, looking toward a girl standing next to a shiny red car.
“I think so,” Dakota says. “Things must have gone well.”
“Should we go talk to her?” I ask. I’ve only met her once, and it was brief, but she’s important to Rhett and therefore indirectly important to us.
Before we can decide, the guys start filing out of the arena. Adam’s one of the last, like usual. I’ve noticed it’s a thing with him. He doesn’t just lead by example; he knows when he needs to follow. I don’t run to him, but it’s only because I have on heeled boots, and tripping seems likely. Neither of us speaks at first. He hugs me and lifts me off the ground, squeezing me so tightly I can practically feel his forgiveness.
“I’m sorry,” we say at the same time.
“You were right. I don’t know shit about their relationship.”
“You just want what’s best for him. For everyone.”
He nods. “But he’s a grown-ass man. He’ll figure it out.”
“Did he say that to you?”
“Yeah.” Adam chuckles. “Verbatim.”
“You want to protect the people around you. It’s one of the things I like most about you. And I didn’t mean what I said about you. I think I just got freaked out being in your room and realizing if this doesn’t work out…” My voice trails off. “I don’t want it to end.”
“I get it. I don’t want it to end either.”
