“That flopped miserably. Mom had one boyfriend. Dad.” Hazel eyes roll at me, and I can’t help but crack a smile. “Now, I can’t even talk to a boy.”
“You talk to all of us.”
“That’s because I don’t have a crush on you goons. When I was dumped for the second time, I thought of myself as…” Sutton trails off, letting all the air out of her lungs. Then takes a large whiff of the steam rolling off the tea. “It’s like that stole something, and I can’t figure out how to get it back. It’s been way over a year, and I’m fumbling over my words and emotions, not to mention my own two feet. My crush talks to me, and what do I do?” She lets out a groan. “Embarrass myself. Zach probably regrets giving me his number now.”
“I can help you,” I blurt before my better judgment can catch up to my heart that’s slipping from her back pocket.
When it does catch up, it’s screaming at me. A flashing jumbotron that readsWhat are you thinking?
Sutton chokes on her sip of tea. The mug on the verge of tumbling from its delicate position. “Help me?”
“We’re friends.”
“We aren’t.”
“We’re friends,” I repeat with more confidence, and since she’s being truthful, I lie down a few of my cards even though I know it might hurt and say, “You are the most confident person I know. You deserve the love you want, and if you need help getting it, then I’ll help.”
“And how would you do that?”
Once again, this wasn’t well thought out. I shrug. “Think of me as your dating tutor.”
That earns me a laugh, number three on the list of favorites.
Why would I want to help her fall for someone else?
Insanity?
Stupidity?
A desperate need to make up for my mistake? The part of me that is okay with never having her if it means she’s happy?
“What do you get out of this? If I agree.”
“You take me back as your student athlete in your case study.”
“That’s you helping me twice, and I don’t want to owe you Carmichael.”
“Is it?” I smile. Softly, almost too nervously. “You were right. I need to help myself.” I let my guard completely down. Reveal how bad of a place I’m in. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it’s getting worse. I’m having issues skating and getting out of bed. Any mention of the future is a boulder on my already thin ice. If I don’t take care of this, get help, then I don’t know?—”
“Cooper,” she whispers my name. Pain wells in her hazels.
“Don’t pity me, Dave. Agree to this. We can help each other.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Now, leave.” She shoves at my shoulder. I stand, but not before tugging on a curl like I used to do as a kid. “I don’t need anyone to think any monkey business is going on back here. This deal between us doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”
“We’ll see about that,” I toss over my shoulder, walking out of her bedroom and returning to our friends. “Tomorrow.”
SEVEN
SUTTON
He’s late.
I knew this was some sort of joke to Cooper. Yet, for whatever reason, I decided to believe him. Give him a wide-open shot at redemption. I took away every defenseman and goalie in his way, and he still missed.
