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I cross my arms, as if it will protect me from whatever is coming. I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling young and stupid and like I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Hollis and I have, by design, only been alone for a few minutes at a time since all this began weeks ago, and unless someone comes down to use the pool, we’ll have a full forty-five minutes of me, him, and the giant elephant in the form of my out-of-control crush. He must read my uncertainty on my face.
“That’s why you’re down here swimming laps in a bikini instead of your one-piece, isn’t it?” Of course he knows what bathing suit I usually wear for laps. We’ve been down here plenty of times together in the past. But the weight of the last few weeks makes the air heavy and the energy between us charged.
I remove my swim cap, running my fingers through my hair so I don’t wring my hands.
He sighs softly, but his expression remains stoically neutral. “Come talk with me.”
He turns and walks toward the hot tub. My gaze moves in a hungry sweep over his broad back. For a moment, I imagine what it would feel like to dig my nails into his rock-solid hockey butt while he sank into me. Would he be a gentle lover? Possessive? Dominating? All the above?
I follow him, stepping into the bubbling water. It’s deliciously warm. He stretches his arms across the edge, and I sit to his left, a few inches from his fingertips.
“How’s school?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“I know what I want to do, and I’m ready to start my career,” I say.
“Don’t wish the semester away,” he says gently.
“I’m not. I’m just done with university life.” I could apply for a master’s program, but I want to be where I fit in the best, and that’s working for the league.
“University was some of the best years of my life,” Hollis says.
“Yeah, because you played for the university team and every girl wanted to sleep with you. I’m the daughter of a professional hockey player. It’s a lot different for me,” I remind him.
We’ve talked about this plenty of times, especially during my first year, when I learned the hard way that my popularity was tied to my dad’s fame. I dated a guy who had friends on the school hockey team for a couple of months. I figured it was fine because he wasn’t a player, until he started pushing to meet my dad, and then I realized it wasn’t me he wanted to date. It was my last name.
“Has that been tough for you lately?” he asks.
“Dad’s twentieth anniversary with the league is this year, so he’s gotten a lot of media attention. Most of the time my classmates are cool, but there’s always some awkwardness when someone gets all fanboy. Working with Hemi was great, because she gave me free rein on community-outreach projects. But going back to regular classes…” I drag my fingers along the surface of the water and sigh. It’s a reminder of how different my life is. “I used to want to fit in with my classmates so badly.”
“Not anymore?” he asks.
“It’s not realistic. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in a normal house with a mom and a dad who have regular jobs. My mom lives her nomad life and works as a healer. My dad has always been a professional hockey player. I’ve always lived this life, but most of my classmates can’t and don’t get it. I can’t be my most authentic self around my peers, but when I’m with the girls, or you, or anyone else on the team, I can just be me.”
“It’s good to have people in your life outside of this world, though. It gives you perspective and helps keep you grounded.”
“I know. And I have a few friends in my classes who are cool about everything, but we have a lot of group projects this year, and when everyone talks about their weekend plans, it’s what club they’re going to, or a party at someone’s house, and I’m over here flying on a whim out to Vancouver with my friends for a game. It’s not relatable.”
At the beginning of the semester, I made the mistake of talking about the club we’d gone to for the new year. It’s an exclusive place, and the tickets were expensive. That’s all it took to change the way people see me.
“What about that guy your dad mentioned? James or something? He’s interested in you, isn’t he?” Hollis’s eyes are on his fingers, which tap agitatedly against the edge of the hot tub.
I don’t want to talk about Jameson. Not with Hollis. “All university guys want to do is hit the club, go to parties, or Netflix and chill. And when I say Netflix and chill, I don’t actually mean watching a show and chilling.”
Hollis narrows his eyes. “I know.”
“So you can see why I’m not jumping at the chance to date university guys.”
“It’d be better than my spare bedroom, don’t you think?” Hollis clamps his mouth shut, like he didn’t mean to say that. It almost makes me laugh.
I’ve done exactly as he’s asked. I change the sheets, and I wash and put away the used set before he comes home from away games. I leave no evidence behind.
“At least I know what I like and I can always get where I need to go.”
