Page 113 of Pucked Up Plans
Arielle assesses us. “I call Tate on my team. Us girls have to stick together, am I right?”
“Uh, sure,” I mutter, totally intimidated by the environment.
“If you’re completely uncomfortable, we’ll leave.” A hopeful lilt infuses Walsh’s tone. He wants me to be comfortable.
For him, I’ll do my best.
Turns out, his teammates are hysterical, kind, and unexpectedly more like Walsh than I would have predicted. Cody’s the biggest “manwhore” of this bunch, followed by Clayton. Arielle and Tristan have been dating since freshman year. She’s the epitome of an intelligent nerd, but she’s got a sense of humor I enjoy. Someone I could see being friends with.
If I were in the market for female friends my age.
Game night consists of video games. Some sort of hockey game. Seems none of them can ever get enough hockey. I observe it all next to Arielle on a black leather couch while she studies for a chemistry final.
The conversation revolves around hockey, finals, and hockey. Walsh fits right in, having been teammates with them all four years. Two of them will graduate in the spring with Walsh, but two others are juniors and one is a sophomore. Of the six guys, only four live here, but I’m gathering the house is used as a “home base” for parties in the offseason and gaming nights during the season. I learn the freshmen and the sophomores onthe team live in the dorms and there’s another hockey house for more upperclassmen on the next road over.
The night is an education of the ins and outs of the life of college athletes. Most of which goes over my head, but I nod, laugh, and mm-hmm at appropriate times.
At one point, Ford occupies the vacant cushion next to me. “Tell me about yourself, Tate.”
“Not much to tell. Moved to Vermont a few months ago, settling into New England life one day at a time while I try to get my bearings.”
“Where did you live before?”
“Kansas.”
A flash of light brightens his eyes. “No shit. I’m from Iowa.”
We engage in a conversation about the Midwest, what we miss from home, how it’s different from Vermont. It’s freeing and refreshing, the most I’ve talked about home since I moved here.
“Ford, stop hitting on my girl,” Walsh growls, a deep rift of envy lacing every syllable.
Tingles erupt in my lady parts at his protectiveness. Damn, it’s sexy. And makes me hot and bothered. I shift discreetly in my seat to hide the effect his words have on me.
“Can’t help it if she wants to talk to me,” Ford tosses back.
“On that note, we should get going. Our plans won’t do themselves.”
A chorus of laughter overpowers the sounds of the video game. The guys are nothing more than prepubescent boys in college bodies.
Gabe composes himself first. “Going back to Mommy and Daddy’s house ‘cause it’s past your curfew?” he goads.
Walsh ignores the bait. “My parents are out of town for the night.” He thrusts his hips in the air. “Anytime we want.”
“Puh-lease. Like that stops Cody from bringing the girls to his room,” Clayton chides, glancing at Cody. “Who’s coming tonight?”
“Andddd, we’re leaving. Say goodbye, Tate.”
Chants of “Goodbye, Tate” echo around the room.
“Until next time, boys. Arielle, it was nice to meet you. Let’s definitely meet for coffee after the new year.”
“Yes,” she confirms. “I’ll text you once I’m back on campus in January.”
Without another word, Walsh lugs me behind him outside into the cold nighttime air. Even with a warm winter coat, the breeze chills me to the bone.
“‘Anytime we want,’ huh?” I joke.
The streetlight highlights the red in his face. “Anytime we want tonight. Better?”
