“Chill out. Staring isn’t a crime.” She grins. “Good news: He lookshot.Bad news: You look like you pooped your pants.”
Seriously. I hate her so much sometimes.
A loud whistle blows, signaling a break in practice. Several guys skate toward the benches, lifting their helmets to wipe sweat off their faces. A few of them continue taking shots at the net.
Macy’s eyes light up, and she straightens, her hair bouncing as she waves enthusiastically. “Babe!”
I follow her gaze and see Marcus skating over, a grin plastered on his face. His helmet comes off, hair damp and messy from sweat.
“Babe! You came.” He leans over the wall and plants a quick kiss on her lips, his gloved hand cradling her jaw for a few seconds before pulling back. “You cold?”
“Nope.” Macy beams. Twirls a strand of hair around her finger like the world’s biggest flirt.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Ever since he asked her to prom, they’ve become so sickeningly gaggy.
Marcus’s eyes flick to me, his smile widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Conrad. Is this your first time at the rink?” He scratches the back of his head as he studies me.
I shove my hands in my hoodie pockets. “Macy dragged me here.”
Macy bursts out laughing, bumping her shoulder against mine. “She’s lying—she wasbeggingto come. There wassomeoneshe wanted to see.”
I gasp. “There is not!”
She ignores my fit, eyes only for Marcus. “You guys look good out there.”
Marcus puffs his chest out just a little, clearly pleased. “Thanks, babe.”
Babe, babe, babe.
Marcus bends over to kiss her again, pressing his mouth against hers as if he has all the time in the world to linger by his new girlfriend.
Ugh. I’m so jealous.
Not that I wantMarcus—obviously. But I wantthat.
What they have.
The easy back-and-forth. The flirting. The effortless touch. The way Macy doesn’t even have to think before she says something cute, and he justEats. It. Up.
I sneak a glance at the ice, my eyes finding Easton almost immediately. He’s talking to his teammate Gabe, leaning casually against his stick, his smile easy and relaxed.
What would it be like to have that with him?
To feel that comfortable?
Marcus’s voice snaps me back to reality. “You two sticking around?”
Macy beams, her whole face lighting up as he smiles at her. “Someone has to cheer you on.”
“I think I’m gonna puke,” I mutter—not that either of them remembers I’m standing here.
Marcus laughs, then pulls Macy in for another quick kiss. “I’ll see you after.”
“Good luck,” she whispers. Then, before I can stop her: “Tell Easton Harper says hello!”
I whip toward her, glaring. But she only smiles innocently and blows him a kiss as he skates away, leaving a trail of ice shavings and a heated blush on Macy’s cheeks.
