Page 4 of Blueline Baby

“You can think about it on your own couch.”

“This one’s closer.” He stops halfway across the room and props his chin in his hand like we’re two girls gossiping at a sleepover. “Hockey question: how big is the neutral zone?”

“Fifty feet. They keep decreasing it.”

His mouth falls open in exaggerated shock, then he laughs and continues his crawl to the couch.

“Wow, impressive, Backcheck Girl.”

I fold my arms over my chest and watch him slowly haul his massive frame up onto the cushions. “Was that supposed to be hard?”

He rolls onto his back, grinning at my ceiling like this is the best thing that has ever happened to him. “Most girls think so. Do you want to see my Stanley Cup?”

“You haven’t won a Stanley Cup.”

I swear his grin gets wider. “Do you want to see my dick instead?”

I’m speechless for half a second before my brain fully processes what he’s just casually offered. A rush of heat climbs up my neck. “Not really.”

“You hesitated, so you kind of do?”

“No, I don’t want to see it at all.”

“Suit yourself Backcheck Girl, most people⁠—”

“My name is Chloe, and I’m positive I don’t want to see your Stanley Cup… or your dick.”

“’Kay.” His eyes are already fluttering shut. “…’night, Backcheck Girl.”

And then he snores. One arm is thrown over his head, the other dragging on the floor, and he’s still half-grinning like he’s absolutely delighted by my flat rejection.

I sigh and pull the blanket off the back of the chair, draping it over the top half of him. It only reaches his shins.

“Goodnight,” I say out loud into the quiet apartment.

I should walk away. I should go to sleep. But I stand there and stare at his face for a moment longer. Stripped of the cocky grin, he just looks exhausted and undeniably handsome, and my stomach does that flip again. I’ll never admit it to Britt, and I barely want to admit it to myself.

I turn on my heel, retreat to my bedroom, and lock the door firmly behind me.

3

JACK

SHE’S KIND OF A BUZZKILL

I open my eyes and immediately shut them again because the room is spinning. If I hold my head perfectly still and blink slowly, it settles. Nothing sloshes. I might be able to sit up.

I make it to an upright position and turn my head. There’s a girl sitting in the chair across from the couch holding a mug and flipping through a magazine. I must groan out loud, because she glances over.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Backcheck Girl?”

“No, I’m Britt,” she says. “You must mean my roommate.”

“The blonde?”

“Yeah, that’s Chloe. Why’d she let you in last night?”