It’s been fucking torture, and right now, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Everything I thought I understood about myself doesn’t feel like fact anymore.
“Hey.”
I snap out of my thoughts at the sound of Emily’s voice, and my head jerks toward her.
When I finally look at her, her head is tilted like she’s been waiting for a while. “You guys have a game this weekend, right?”
I blink. “What?”
She bumps her elbow gently against mine, smiling. “A game. Hockey. This weekend?”
“Oh. Yeah.” I blink, trying to get my brain to cooperate. “We do.”
“Cool,” she says, like that was all she needed. “Maybe I’ll come to the next one. If you promise me good seats.”
I nod. “Sure. I can get you in the front row.”
Her mouth tugs into a half-smile. “Wow. I get the VIP treatment?”
I manage a faint smirk. “Perks of knowing the goalie.”
She chuckles, leaning her chin on her hand, but my attention is snagged when my phone buzzes again, muffled against my thigh, and every muscle in my body tenses.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
I look.
Of course I do.
“Is that your girlfriend texting you?”
I jerk a little in my seat, blinking over at her. “What?”
Emily nods toward my phone. “You keep smiling. And turning red.”
I’m definitely not smiling, and if I’m red, it’s a blood pressure thing, definitely not because of the picture Logan sent me.
I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck. “Uh, no. Just a teammate.”
“Oh.” Color climbs her cheeks. Emily doesn’t blush, so that throws me a little. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to assume.”
“It’s fine.”
“That’s good.” Her fingers drum against her notebook, and she looks a little shy, which is weird. She’s never shy. She hesitates for a beat, chewing her lip before saying, “I mean… I was kind of wondering if… maybe you wanted to grab a coffee sometime?”
My brows knit together, wondering why she would be nervous about that. She brings me coffee all the time, it’s only fair if I buy her one as a thank you and catch up with her outside of class.
“Yeah, sure.”
Her eyes widen a little. “Really?”
“Why not?” I shrug.
She tucks a loose strand behind her ear, starts packing up as the lecture ends. “Okay. Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah,” I say, shoving my notebook in my bag. “See you.”
She lifts her hand in a small wave before getting out of her chair and making her way up the stairs.