Page 5 of Best Things in Life

“Trey who?” We walk in the direction of campus toward the main drag and I have a vague idea of where I’m going—maybe a metaphor for my life—but I’m losing patience with all Emily’s references to people I don’t know. Or maybe I’m losing my sense of control. Maybe you lost that the second you laid eyes on Nate. “What about Nate?” I blurt. “Does she have her eyes on him?”

Chapter 3

NATE

I’m sitting with Dooley and Bane—we didn’t invite Bigs, or rather I didn’t invite him. We’re at a table near the door, front and center like we’re a billboard for Wildbeast Pizza. Our vantage point allows us to see everyone who comes in, so I don’t mind. Until Emily Winiski walks in—with Sarina.

“Shit.” It’s my automatic reaction. My heartrate picks up and my dick goes on alert like I’m anticipating a flirtation, forbidden or not. Taking a sip of beer, I keep up the appearance of cool.

Bane turns to see what the shit is all about and the second he sees Emily, who he had a fling with last semester, he tries to hide under the table—metaphorically speaking. Dooley laughs, but he’s merciless and waves the ladies over. I want to do the sign of the cross in fucking thanks that Bigs isn’t here. I should feel guilty that I left him to mope in his room. But I’m having a hard time with our friendship right now because I can’t see past the reality that he’s the guy who stole my girl, no matter that she’s not technically my girl. No matter how irrational my attitude is, my head can’t convince my heart that I’m wrong. Every time I look at him, the stabbing pain of loss strikes like I haven’t felt in years.

Emily slides onto a stool next to Bane at our high top and that leaves the stool next to me for Sarina. She gives me a look like I just took a bath in cow shit.

“You should sit,” I say. “Act cool even though you’re obviously hotter than a cat in heat.”

“Shut up, Nate. Just—”

I put my hands up, not bothering to hide my smirk because my dick is thrilled that I can still get under her skin with high hopes of getting into her pants. But I have no intentions of going there no matter how hot she is.

“Don’t mind him,” Emily says, eyes laughing like it’s all a joke. I have a new appreciation for her direct, no frills method of flirtation. “He’s harmless.” Sarina arches a speculative brow at Emily and gets her wall of ice back in place as if she’s a superhero who’s superpower is freezing the balls off any man who looks at her wrong. Not too far off the real her.

But I like her other superpower better—the one where she sets my balls on fire. Fuck.

“You’re right, Emily,” Sarina says, sliding onto the stool next to me to prove her point. “His dick is powerless.” Dooley spits the beer back into his glass and coughs. It’s not often I get to see someone ruffle Dooley’s cool.

“You’re something else, Sarina,” he says, swallowing and getting his cough under control. “I’m not sure how Bigs can handle you.”

“How about if we change the subject,” I say. “What are the football team’s chances of running the table this season?” I aim my eyes at Bane and he’s relieved to talk football as always.

“Fucking good,” he says. “Starting Saturday with the BC Eagles who will not be flying high once we’re through with them. I’ve watched so much film, I can pick apart their defense with my eyes closed.”

“Speaking of Saturday’s game,” Dooley says. “You have those fifty-yard-line tickets you promised me?”

“Anything for you, Dools,” Bane says. “It’s not like my family’s coming all the way up from Sydney, Australia to see me play. I got all the tickets you want.”

“That’s too bad—about your family being so far away,” Sarina says and I know she means it because she’s all about family. I’m surprised she came this far away to school even though it’s only two hours. Back when we were in high school and I was choosing which school to go to, you would have thought I was going to the moon when I chose SPU. She was pulling hard for Boston University, my other offer. That was the beginning of the end for us. She was a year behind me so no matter where I went it was going to be away from her. Away from my heart, my center.

“Perfect,” Dooley says, “I’ll take tickets for me, Nate, Bigs.” He ticks our names off his fingers. “And you too, Sarina, you have to come to the game with us. And of course Emily—”

“Anyone else?” Bane snorts. “That’s five tickets. I’ll have to squeeze somebody on the O-line for an extra one.” He slides a glance at Emily. “But no problem.”

“I don’t need a ticket,” I say, but Dooley waves me off.

“You’re not coming to my game?” Bane snorts with indignance. Shit.

“Of course he’s coming,” Dooley says. Not caring that I glare at him, nudge him, and then punch his shoulder, giving him a stern whispered order not to include Bigs if he wants me there, Dooley shakes his head. I look at Bane and he returns my stare, his mouth a grim line. He expects me to go along and behave civilly. Well fuck.

“I’ll get another ticket and you can all sit on the fifty-yard line,” Bane says with finality as he slips four rectangular tickets from his pocket and pushes them across the table, stamped with Wildbeasts and next Saturday’s date.

“Wow. Old school,” Sarina says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual ticket before.” I hear the sarcastic tease in her voice, her ball-busting in full force. Unfortunately what it does to me is tighten my balls and get my fingers itchy to dig into her tangle of dark hair, take a fistful to pull her head close and her lips against mine. Fu-u-uck. This is unacceptable. I’m a moron.

It’s just dick-memory talking. I gather my self-control and figure I should try to be nice, to test the waters, because if she truly wants to be with fucking Bigs, I’m not going to stand in her way. My dick protests with a leap and my chest tightens. Not standing in her way, let alone being all nice and civil about it, will be fucking hard.

I don’t know why I’m still so affected after three years of living without her—because I’m not counting her appearances in my dreams—to suddenly get all hot and bothered like she’s still mine, like we belong together, the first minute I see her. Dick memory or heart memory?

Or maybe I was a colossal fool to leave her for fucking hockey’s sake and now I’m reliving that nightmare of the first few months after I made that fucking decision. But I can’t regret that now. Not when I’m so close to making it—one season away from the NHL.

“Speaking of school, Sarina, dear heart,” Dooley says, and every muscle in me tightens even before he asks the question. “What made you transfer to St. Paul U in your junior year? Why didn’t you come here as a freshman?” Her eyes flicker as she stares at Dooley, looking for his motives. But Dools is a simple guy. He has one motive in every mixed-company conversation I’ve ever seen him in and that’s to cause mischief. The little fucker. Normally I’m all on board with that because he’s a hoot to be around. But this here conversation is fucking killing me.