“Is she your girlfriend?” Scarlett shouts in the background.
I let out a laugh, dragging a hand down my face. “Alright, you two have officially butted into my life enough tonight. I gotta go.”
“I can see that,” my mom says, with a teasing look. “Remember. Use protection. I’m too young to be a grandmother.”
“Jesus, mom,” I groan.
She laughs, blowing me a kiss, and I end the call before they can embarrass me more. I roll back onto the bed, grab my laptop, and unmute the FaceTime.
“Sorry about that. My mom just got home,” I tell her. “She always calls to check in.”
Maisie’s head lifts a little from her pillow. “That’s okay.” She sinks further into her blankets and glances back at the screen. “So when’s our next study session? Or are you hoping this counts?”
I let out a low laugh. “Hey, this was extremely educational.”
She arches a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely. I learned you like to sleep with Waddles. Very important intel.”
She chuckles. “That’s not anatomy, Austin.”
“Sure it is,” I say with a shrug. “I’m studying your brain.”
She gives me a look. “God help me.”
I let out a laugh and sit up a little. “Seriously though, I do need to actually study if I wanna get back on the ice.”
“What time are you free next week?” she asks.
I scratch at my jaw, grabbing my phone to check my calendar. “Monday’s out, I’ve got team lifts and a meeting with Coach. Wednesday I’m free after practice.”
She hums. “Wednesday works. We can do the library again if it’s not packed.”
I pause. The thought of her curled up beside me again, brushing against me every time she leans over my notes—it’s dangerous. Especially now, when I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling anymore.
I clear my throat. “You could come to my place instead. Fewer distractions.”
She lifts a brow. “Right. No distractions at all in a house full of hockey guys.”
“They won’t be there,” I say. “The guys have a banquet thing for alumni donors. Coach is making them go. I got out of it since I’m suspended and, quote, ‘not a good look for the program right now.’”
Maisie scrunches her nose. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, well. I’ll take the quiet house.” I meet her eyes again. “Come by around seven?”
She bites her lip, like she’s thinking it over.
“I’ll even make sure my room’s semi-clean,” I add.
She chuckles. “Okay.”
Her voice is soft, kind of sleepy. Like maybe she’s starting to drift.
“You tired?” I ask, sitting up. “I can go if you want to sleep.”
She shakes her head quickly. “No. I wanna stay here with you.”
A warm feeling nestles deep in my stomach and I breathe out a laugh, my eyes glued on those pink cheeks scattered with freckles, and those eyes I can’t stop thinking about.
