Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(8)
“Thanks, babe.”
Chapter 4
Skylar
I step outside the bathroom and close the door behind me. I lean against it and smile at the girls standing there. Tiffany, Amy, and another girl I recognize but don’t know her name. “Hey. Jacob’s just finishing up. Be warned—the lock on the door doesn’t work.” I wrinkle my nose.
The waves of hostility coming off them are palpable despite their phony smiles.
Holy shit. He wasn’t kidding. These chicks are seriously annoyed I was in that bathroom alone with him. Tiffany gives me an icy glare. She’s never even noticed me before. She’s definitely one of the women who goes to all the games and has probably slept with most of the players on the team. I’ve never seen Jacob around before—because God, I’d definitely remember that—so I assume he’s new this year. For a freshman, he seems pretty cocky and confident.
He’s good-looking, there’s no doubt about that. His face has a sculpted bone structure with high cheekbones and a strong jaw with a hint of a cleft in it. His eyes are dark and intelligent, his nose a strong wedge, and his mouth…wow. The corners of his mouth seem to be perpetually deepened as if he’s always amused. It’s stunningly attractive. There’s something about him…If my roommate Natalie were here, she’d probably say he has a strong aura. It’s like a magnetic force field that surrounds him, throwing off a glow that makes everyone turn and look at him, not just girls, but guys too.
His egotistical, bragging comments should be repulsive, but when I looked into his eyes and saw the twinkle there, the corners of his mouth lifting in that sexy way, I…melted. He clearly doesn’t take himself seriously, and the glint in his eyes and almost self-deprecating smile make me suspect his bravado is more an act than real.
I hear water running and take a step forward just as the door opens behind me. Jacob emerges and, shockingly, slings an arm around my neck. “Hey. Let’s find another drink, Rapunzel.”
The glares I’m getting from the girls in the hallway could freeze lava. I don’t really care; none of these girls are friends of mine. It’s kind of funny, actually, because I’m no threat to them. I don’t think I’ve ever been the recipient of envy like they are clearly feeling. It’s kind of a little boost for my own ego, which is about one five-hundredth the size of Jacob’s.
We pass the girls and start down the stairs. Halfway down I can’t stop the chuckle that rises to my lips.
“Something funny?”
I turn to glance at him over my shoulder, ready to say something about how hilarious it is that the girls upstairs would actually think I’m some kind of rival, but my foot misses the next step and I pitch forward. My stomach leaps and my blood flashes hot as I give a squawk, anticipating the pain I’m about to feel. But Jacob reaches out and grabs me, stopping my headfirst tumble. “Hey there.”
Pulled up against him, my back to his front, his arms around me, my heart thudding, I give an embarrassed laugh. But I can smell his aftershave—or cologne, I guess, since he’s got a nice layer of stubble—and it’s so freakin’ sexy I inhale a big breath of it, then let it out. “Thanks,” I say breathlessly. “Thought I was a goner there.”
“You okay?”
“Oh yeah. Just red-faced.”
“Let me see.” He steadies me and turns me on the stairs, studying my face with intent eyes. “Yep. You’re cute when you blush.”
Yeah, that doesn’t help. My cheeks grow hotter. Also other parts of me get hot. Melting hot.
This is really…weird.
I haven’t felt this way for a while. It feels good but scary.
I don’t know why this beautiful guy is paying attention to me, flirting with me. I mean, I’m not a total troll. I’ve gone out with some guys at Bayard, and I had a high school boyfriend. But this guy is way out of my league.
For some reason, this relaxes me. Nothing’s ever going to come of it, so I might as well have fun. A sexy athlete telling me my hair is gorgeous and I’m cute when I blush? I laugh out loud, despite the lust curling deep inside me.
“That’s funny?” He lifts an eyebrow.
“No. Never mind. Come on. I need a drink.”
I start back down, this time paying attention to where my feet land.
Jacob follows me into the kitchen and I’m surprised when he hands me a hard lemonade from a big cooler but takes a Coke for himself.
“Designated driver.” He lifts one shoulder. “Someone has to do it.”
“That’s very responsible of you.”
He makes a face. “That’s me. Mr. Responsible.”
He’s obviously being sarcastic, but I don’t know him well enough to understand why. I’m curious, though. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a gulp of the cold, fizzy beverage. I don’t usually drink fizzy drinks because they hurt my nose, but I need this. “You don’t strike me as Mr. Responsible.”
“No? How do I strike you?”
I study him. “Playboy. Lots of fun, but unreliable. Your whole life is one big party.”
He blinks at me, his beautiful mouth going slack. “Whoa.” A faint crease appears between his eyebrows. Then it smoothes and he smiles again, but it’s a little forced. “You nailed it, babe.” He gulps his Coke. “But my hockey coaches would disagree on the ‘unreliable’ part. I was captain of my team back in Canada, and every guy on the team knew he could count on me. I show up and give it everything I’ve got, every practice, every game.”