“Miss Mabel loves me,” I say with confidence, but she’s right. Miss Mabel will notice how long Savannah is here. And ask me all about her.
“Because you flirt with her and she’s old?”
“Because I mow her lawn in exchange for cookies,” I say, pretending to be offended, and Savannah rolls her eyes. I also fix leaks and do whatever needs to be done around her place, but I don’t advertise that. “If she was paying attention, it was so she could bring you up the next time she asks me why I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Doesn’t she know the rule? College athletes don’t do girlfriends until they find their person and then everyone knows because they’re so crazy about her.” She rolls her eyes like it’s something she’s seen in movies, or probably read in books, but it’s honestly what I’ve witnessed. Most of my friends play the field, avoiding girlfriends and commitment like their lives depend on it, until they find that one that knocks them off their feet. Then they’re like Darren, so whipped that most girls won’t even try anything because the last time someone did, he spent the night telling her how amazing Lacey is. And not even to get rid of her, just because she’s his favorite subject, and he was too drunk to see the girl didn’t share his enthusiasm.
“So there’s hope for me yet?”
“Hope for what?”
She moves closer, though I’m not even sure she’s aware of it. I can hear her breathing, watch her chest go up and down, but my eyes are trained on her lips, and how soft they look up close. How I want to kiss them. To push her against the wall and feel every inch of her pressed against me. To make her forget whoever brought her in here before me. But that isn’t very friendly, so I force myself to look up, only the gold specks in her hazel eyes are fucking sparkling as she looks at me expectantly, and I can’t for the life of me remember why I’m stopping myself.
“Cap? You home?”
Fuck.
I let my eyes linger on her lips again, but Colt just reminded me that I have responsibilities, and Savannah isn’t the type of girl you have fun with then move on; she’s the kind who sets your world on fire and tilts it on its axis. She comes with expectations, and she deserves a lot more than I give her. Still, my eyes don’t leave hers as I yell down, “In my room.”
“Coach is calling an emergency meeting. Not sure if he figured out Tanner flunked his chem lab or if Spring’s sprain was more serious than he let on, but he wants us there…ASAP,” Colt finishes awkwardly after bounding up the stairs and finding a girl in my room.
“Hello.” The asshole takes Savannah’s hand and fucking kisses it like this is a Jane Austen novel, then has the audacity to smirk at me when I glare at him. “I’m Colt, I live downstairs. Callahan’s right-hand man.” He keeps talking, waiting for Savannah to respond or acknowledge him, but she looks at me like she doesn’t know what to say. “How do you know Cap?” he asks when neither of us volunteer anything.
He's looking at her in a way that makes my blood boil, makes me want to claim her and tell him to back off, but she isn’t mine. We can be friends. I can help her with her book and learning about hockey, but I can’t have another person depending on me, and I sure as fuck can’t string her along until she figures that out.
“She’s just borrowing a book for class,” I dismiss it. Her face drops and it kills me, but I mean it. I can’t be what she deserves, because when something has to give out of her, hockey, and my family…I can’t do that to her.
“Thank you. I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done,” Savannah assures me, but with a look like she might never see me again.
She slips past us and rushes down the stairs, straight out the door while I try to convince myself not to run after her.
“Did she just leave by the front door?” Colt asks, looking at me with confusion before crossing his arms, waiting for an explanation. In a normal house, it wouldn’t mean anything that she let herself out. Even a locked door is easy to figure out. But whoever installed our front door put the handle upside down. Or it’s defective, because you have to twist the handle up to open it. I still forget half the time, and haven’t seen a single guest not lock and unlock the door a bunch of times before they figure it out.
“Looks like.” I pretend it doesn’t mean anything.
“How many times have you ‘lent her a book’?” he asks, doing air quotes like he has me all figured out.
“This is the first time I’ve brought her over.” And the door was already open when she arrived, so it’s not like she saw me do it, but I hate the way Colt’s expression immediately changes to sympathy.
“She could just be a door genius,” he tries to be reassuring, but neither of us believes it. “Come on, coach is waiting.”
Chapter Sixteen
Savannah
Treats over heat
On Thursday, Izzie calls me to see if I want to go to the game with her on Sunday. It’s from Noah’s phone, so he’s aware of it, but doesn’t talk. Or at least not to me, but I’m sure he’s the one who tells her the times and that my ticket is at will-call.
When I get to the arena, I have to ask how to get to the will-call for guests of athletes, which is up the stairs from the regular one, that I have never been to either.
“For Savannah James?” I give my name when it’s my turn.
“Which player?” The girl who asks is probably my age, and I feel the precision is unnecessary, because I doubt there’s another Savannah on her list.
“Noah Callahan.”
“He never has anyone in his seats,” she argues, then, “Oh.” She looks stumped.
