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Mads and I haven’t discussed our relationship status. Nothing has been defined. I wouldn’t know how to define it if asked. But what I do know is, I haven’t slept on the couch for the past three nights. We haven’t messed around again beyond some kissing and touching, but it isn’t for lack of wanting to. Our schedules simply haven’t aligned.
Mads worked the past three nights at Cheerz. She makes more money on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings when they have bands playing and a larger crowd, so she tries to pick up those shifts. She comes home early in the morning when work is over and slides into bed with me.
I’ve been going to sleep before she gets back to the apartment and rising early for my workouts. I needed to get back into a routine to convince myself I wasn’t a total idiot for getting involved with my little sister’s best friend. I needed to reinforce that hockey was still my first priority, mostly to convince myself. I’m still not sure that it’s a smart choice, what I’m doing with Mads, but I’ve pushed it from my mind enough not to dwell on it. Though it’s bound to come back to bite me at some point. But that point is not today, and it wasn’t last night when she was draped across my chest while sleeping. She feels good in my arms. Too good to stop doing whatever it is that we’re doing. So, I’m going to enjoy it—and her—for as long as I can.
Sims passes me the puck, and I make a move on Chase. He bites, giving me a second or two edge over him, which is enough time to take a shot. McMann blocks it, but the ricochet lands a few inches from my stick, and I’m able to put the puck in the back of the net.
“What was that move?” Chase asks, skating up beside me. He has a smirk on his face and awe in his voice.
“I felt you going right, so I thought I’d take it left.”
Chase chuckles. What I don’t say is that it’s rare for me to deke my friend. He’s one of the best defensemen around. He’s made me better by playing against him all these years.
I glide over to the box and sit on the bench, grabbing a water in the process. Chase sits next to me. Sims, Hoarst, and the other guys start taking shots on McMann, trash-talking along the way.
“Oakley mentioned that Madison is staying at your place this summer,” Chase says nonchalantly after a moment, but somehow, I don’t think this is a casual statement. Chase couldn’t care less about my living arrangements. This sentence has Oakley written all over it.
“Yeah, she didn’t want to go home. There’s some stuff going on with her mom. So, I offered her a place to stay.”
“That’s a little cramped, isn’t it? I mean, your place is small.”
My place is definitely compact. It’s meant for one person. I’ve never needed a lot of space. When I moved out of the house with my teammates, I liked that it was into a small complex with just a handful of residents. I was tired of the constant partying and chaos that came with having roommates. And it’s so close to the arena and campus. I chose it more for the location than amenities.
“It’s tight, but we’re making it work. It’s only for a few weeks.”
He nods and gulps down half his bottle of water. “Where’s she sleeping?”
I glance over at him. “Is that question coming from you or Oakley?”
He gives me a wry grin. “Your sister is just worried about … the situation.”
I chuckle. “Tell Oak she doesn’t need to worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” There’s an edge to my words on purpose. It’s my way of telling Chase to back off. Oakley, too, indirectly. “Mads is working. I’m training. The apartment is just a place to lay our heads at night.”
Chase nods and drops it, receiving the message loud and clear, even though I never really answered his question.
We play for another two hours, and we’re all having so much fun that we lose track of time.
We grab burgers at a local joint afterward, and then Chase and Mike make the long drive back to the city while the rest of us head to our homes on the edge of campus.
And as I’m pulling into the lot, I try not to examine things too closely when the first thing I look for is Madison’s car.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MADISON
I was relieved I had to work last weekend when Chase and Mike came up and the guys played a pickup game of hockey at the arena on Sunday. I didn’t think I could look Oakley in the eye and tell her anything other than the truth if she asked me directly about her brother. I’ve never been able to lie to my best friend. She always sees right through me. And I’ve never had a reason to be untruthful with her before. I’m not sure I have a reason now either. All I know is that Ollie and I are undefined. We’re in a situationship, whatever that means. We aren’t just friends, but we aren’t necessarily more. Add in the fact that he’s my best friend’s brother and she idolizes him, and the complications continue to mount.
I’ve never been the type of girl who needs to label a relationship. I’ve always been the woman who goes with the flow. If things are good, I stick around until they’re not anymore. And then I bail. I’ve rarely shed a tear over a guy. I usually don’t invest myself enough in another person to really care if they stay or leave. It’s a safe way to live. I can honestly say I’ve never had my heart broken, and I wear that honor like a badge. But I don’t think I knew what I was missing before Ollie came along.
Ollie has taken my indifferent attitude and all my safe boundaries and blown them to shreds. His touch is like fire on my skin. His kisses light me up. I think about him all the time. My chest squeezes when he walks into the room, and I’m starting to think I won’t be able to sleep at night once he’s gone from the bed. He’s like a warm, strong, heated blanket. His arms are beyond comforting. And, yes, he’s hot. But this goes way beyond physical attraction. I’ve dated plenty of good-looking men in the past, and none of them ever had this effect on me. The truth is, I’ve always wanted Ollie, even when I wouldn’t admit it to myself. But the really scary thing now is that I’m starting to need him. And I rarely need anyone.
It’s been a long week spent mostly at my job, but I’ve made it to another weekend. I’m bent over the coffee table, putting the final coat on my toenails, when the front door flies open with so much force that it slams against the wall. Oakley stops on the threshold, drops an overnight bag on the floor, and throws her arms in the air dramatically.
“Did you miss me?” she shouts.
I scream and jump up, running closer to lace my arms around my bestie while being careful not to mess up the fresh paint job on my toenails.
“Did you miss me?” I shout back while we’re hugging.
