“All the training I do for hockey makes me constantly hungry.” I pat my stomach. “It takes a lot to fuel this beautiful temple of a body.”
She rolls her eyes as she laughs. “God, you’re cocky.”
I don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on my chest and stomach, though.
She clears her throat. “I’m really busy with classes, my work at the Writing Center, and volunteering. I can probably only commit to one date a week with you.”
“That works for me. I’ll be slammed with hockey and school work.”
“Okay, so once a week we go on one date. I tutor you twice a week. We’ll keep this up for the rest of the semester, then when we come back from Winter Break, we’ll tell everyone we broke up.”
“Sounds good.” I glance at Poppy’s plate, which still has half of her giant club sandwich sitting on it. “You gonna finish that?”
She shakes her head. “Go ahead.”
I inhale a third of the sandwich in one bite and grin at her. “Look at us sharing food like a real couple,” I say with my mouth full.
She shakes her head and glances off to the side, like she’s annoyed with me, but she’s smiling too.
When the server walks by, I hand her cash for the bill.
“I can pay for my sandwich,” Poppy says, but I shake my head.
“No way. You’re my girlfriend now. My girlfriend doesn’t pay when we go out.”
She bites back a small smile, and her cheeks flush. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
When I finish eating, I wipe my mouth with a napkin and drop it on the empty plate. “I think our next date should be something big where lots of people can see us. Let’s go to a party together.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like parties.”
“Well, I do. And now that I’m your boyfriend, you should go to at least one party with me.”
She groans softly.
“Why do you hate parties so much?” I ask. I think back to high school. Poppy didn’t like going to parties then either. I think I saw her at one party at a mutual friend’s house during those four years.
“They’re all the things I hate. They’re loud and crowded. The music is always deafening. I have to scream at the person standing next to me just so they can hear me. And there’s always gross guys there who try to flirt with me and try to get me to drink till I pass out.” She crosses her arms and stares down at her lap. “And even when I told them I didn’t like drinking, they’d ignore me and try to get me to drink anyway. I hate that,” she says softly.
A sinking feeling lands in my stomach. That must have been what happened to her at that party in high school.
Protectiveness surges through me once more.
“I’d never pressure you like that, Poppy. I swear.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” she says.
“If we go to a party together, I’m not gonna let anyone near you. I’m not gonna let anyone make you uncomfortable.”
She looks at me. “Promise?”
I swallow hard. “Promise.”
“Okay. I’ll go to a party with you.”
“My teammate is throwing a house party next weekend. He’s cool. If the music is too loud, he’ll turn it down. And no one is going to make you drink if you don’t want to.”
