Still slightly weirded out by what just happened, I try to settle myself again. When Dansky sinks his first throw, I immediately snatch it up and down it, trying my best to not pull a face at the taste.
“That’s it, Nicholas, let loose!”
Let loose? Okay, yeah. I can do that. I can be a college student and have fun at a party.
I can totally do this.
Chapter 63
Derek
I raise the remote and turn off the apartment’s TV as the commentators finish dissecting the college hockey games this weekend. Newton played last night and brought home a win, four-to-one.
The freshmen on the team got a substantial portion of ice time in the second and third, which was interesting to watch. Morelloand Alderidge worked well together, as much as it pains me to admit.
William Alderidge might be a thorn in my side when it comes to Emery, but he is excellent on the ice. He and Morello just need to find the person to complete their line, and they will move up shifts faster than the seniors know how to deal with. Luckily for them, Coach Ratcliffe doesn’t care about seniority; his primary concern is the Frozen Four and bringing home the trophy.
With a sigh, I heave myself up off the couch and start turning off the lights in the apartment, an emptiness inside of me from going two nights without watching Emery. I’d even take a public live at this point.
This is not the first weekend I have been at the apartment since Obsession, but it is my first night here alone. In fact, I’ve been here every weekend since then, hoping that Emery will make her way back here, like she did every week prior.
The level of irritation and frustration that I felt at having missed her last night by fifteen minutes is indescribable. My entire being flushed hot knowing that we’d had aSliding Doorsmoment.
She showed up at the apartment.
She took a step in our direction.
I’ve watched the footage from the camera above the fridge a dozen times, and I am still unsure whether not being able to find her things is why she left upset. Something tells me there is an important piece of the puzzle missing, but without being able to have a conversation with her, I’m unsure on how to get the information I need.
Before I hit the last light switch, I pat my pockets to make sure my phone is where I left it, then flick the switch, plunging the main area of the apartment into darkness. I’m not even halfway to the bedroom when my phone rings.
Who is calling me after ten on a Saturday?
My feet feel uneven beneath me and my heart lodges itself in my throat as I see the caller ID.
Emery.
In my quest to answer the call as quickly as possible, I almost send her to voicemail, but I manage to get myself under control. I force my thumb to smooth over the screen and answer the call, clearing my throat before I speak.
“Emery, is everything okay?”
At first, all I can hear is loud background noise, and it only takes me a second to realize it’s music and a lot of people talking. Frowning, I pull the phone away from my ear and make sure I am actually on a call and haven’t accidentally opened a video or something.
My screen definitely shows I’m on a call.
“Emery?”
“You’re a massive jerk, you know that, right?” Her voice fills my ear, a tiredness to it dulling her indignation.
I know I shouldn’t, but I smile. Hearing her voice settles something inside me. “I do.”
There is a high-pitched female screech in the background as I wait her out. With only the light from the bedroom, I find my way to the back of the couch and lean against it, cross my ankles, and grip the edge with my free hand, staring unseeingly at all of our dungeon furniture.
“I hate you.”
A pang stabs through my heart. “I know.”
“You are an asshole.”
