Out in Spring (Out in College 6)

She pulled me against traffic down the stairs leading toward the rink. I couldn’t stop without being in the way, and there were too many people filing out for me to duck into a row to wait for her. I didn’t panic immediately. The pace was slow enough that I figured both teams would be in the locker rooms by the time we reached a clearing.

Wrong.

I licked my lips nervously when I spotted Logan, Troy, and a few of their teammates chatting with a coach on the players’ bench on the opposite side of the rink. Logan unfastened his helmet and took it off, holding it under his arm while he threaded his fingers through his damp hair. Damn, he was a sexy beast. His eyes sparked with an innate humor that made him seem approachable and easygoing, an interesting contrast to the fierce vibe he emitted during the game. But now wasn’t a great time to analyze Logan or my reaction to him.

“Kendra, we have to go.”

She sighed dramatically and nodded. “I know. Ugh. I don’t know if Troy can see me anyway. We’re on the wrong side and way too far from the action. We have to get here an hour early for their last game.”

“I thought this was the last game.”

“The Senior’s Spring for Charity game is at the beginning of May. It’s just for fun, but it’ll be the last time some of the guys play again.”

“That’s three and a half months from now,” I said, gently tugging her elbow. “I might be busy sorting my socks that weekend and…what are you doing?”

Kendra waved her hands in the air like she was ground control at LAX. “They’re looking this way. Hey, Troy!”

Oh, my God. My face turned into an insta-inferno. No joke. My cheeks had to be bright red. I’d have given anything for an invisibility cloak or a rewind button. I knew Kendra was a loose cannon with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. But I didn’t count on her unique brand of enthusiasm giving me away. I felt like a total dweeb, gaping at the unattainable object of my desire…and getting caught.

I braced myself for an awkward moment…but it didn’t come. Troy glanced over at us and cocked his head curiously before waving. Then Colby and a couple of other guys got in on the action. It was kind of sweet, actually. I’d always thought jocks were egotistical and self-absorbed, but these guys were cool. Even if Troy didn’t reciprocate Kendra’s crush, he seemed…nice. I didn’t get the impression he got off on collecting notches on his bedpost and breaking hearts along the way.

Of course, all coherent thought left my mind when I focused on Logan. He didn’t wave or even smile, he just…met my gaze and held it. And somehow, we had an entire conversation without saying a single word. It was something like, “How are you? I’ve been thinking about you. I can’t wait to see you again.” All right, that was my version, but I liked it. It made me feel warm and gooey inside. And the distance across the rink lent an aura of privacy. We were too far apart for our expressions to give us away. You’d have to know what to look for, and that wasn’t possible because no one knew—

Oh.

Fuck. Maybe someone kinda sorta knew something.

Kelly and a few of her friends gathered near the railing next to the players’ bench. It looked more like they were posing or maybe just waiting to be noticed. Didn’t matter. The second Kelly spotted me, she held my gaze. And that was my cue.

“Let’s go, Kenny.”

Kendra didn’t argue. Better still, she didn’t ask why I was in such a hurry or why my hands were shaking. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice that something wasn’t quite right with me.

Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be at the game? I would have scored for sure.

I glanced at my cell and pushed my duvet aside before responding, I thought you did.

Nope. Didn’t you watch?

I mostly ate popcorn. I chuckled at the gif Logan sent of a black cat filing its nails and giving serious stink eye. I’m kidding. It was a good game.

Thanks. Logan sent a series of hockey gifs. Did you see my killer assist in the second?

I think so. It was great.

You THINK so?!

I sent a smiley-faced emoji, then tried to correct my faux pas.

Sorry. I don’t know much about hockey.

What? How is that possible? Never mind. I’m calling you. He waited a few seconds and added, Can I call you?

Yes. My phone buzzed a moment later. I fumbled and dropped it twice, finally answering with a breathy sounding, “Hello?”

And yeah, there was definitely a question mark in my tone, as though I really had no idea who might be on the line. Ugh. Dork mode on full blast.