Collide: A Hockey Romance -
Collide: Chapter 18
I CUT OFF the power.
It isn’t often that I find myself in our cold dingy basement, but desperate times call for desperate measures. After I showed up at Summer’s dorm a few days ago, I thought things were back to normal, but that was a heavily misguided conclusion. She hasn’t texted, called, or even emailed. Nothing. Kian is the only one who sees her during class, and he’s become mute. His loyalties have clearly shifted. Asshole.
Last practice, I was desperate enough to ask Tyler Sampson about her. He smashed me into the boards. Clearly, her feelings are anything but positive.
So, what do you do when the girl you can’t stop thinking about ices you out? You power down an entire house.
With the house plunged in darkness, screams sound upstairs. I make my way back up, innocent as ever. There’s no other way to get this many Dalton students out of our house and to Summer’s carnival.
“Sorry, power’s out, guys.” My words are followed by drunk grumbles. “But there’s an event on campus tonight. Everyone can head over there.” Kian comes into view, lit by the flashlight on his phone. I gesture towards the door and he gives me a thumbs up.
“Everyone follow me,” he says. “I’m bringing the booze!”
The crowd cheers, and people spill out of the house behind Kian.
A flashlight shines on me, and I squint.
“We have a generator,” Cole says, buzzed and skeptical.
I shrug. But he’s right, I’m lucky it hasn’t kicked in. Behind him, Eli shoots me a wink before he heads out.
“You sure are going above and beyond for this project,” Dylan says when he finds me outside.
“I don’t like to do anything half-assed.”
“Sure, Barbie,” he snorts.
I don’t bother correcting him. Since I came back from Summer’s with a bright purple Band-Aid on my face they’ve been ripping into me.
Turning into the west wing parking lot that’s cleared for the event, I can tell from the attendees’ reactions that Summer’s event is a hit.
“Dylan!” A girl squeals and runs into his arms.
He mouths Who is this? over her shoulder. Shaking my head, I walk to where Kian struggles to throw a baseball at a target. He’s trying for the stuffed animals, one of them being a tiny cow that somehow looks like it’s begging you to take it home.
“This has to be rigged,” he complains.
A girl in line gives Kian a sweet smile. “I can teach you the trick.”
He perks up. “Just a heads up, I’m a hands-on learner.”
“Yeah? I’m a hands-on teacher,” she says.
Taking that as my cue to leave, I go over to Eli, who’s talking to Kayce Howard. “Finally took a day off?” he asks when he sees me approach.
“Gotta give the opposition a head start, or else it gets boring.”
He laughs. “It’s looking like a Frozen Four between Dalton and Yale. You think you’ll choke?”
My jaw tightens, and Eli clears his throat. “We’ll win like every other year. You, on the other hand, barely got into the final four. Hopefully, you don’t trip.”
During the final four competition last year, Kayce missed a free throw when he tripped at the last second. He’s proved himself since, but we’ve been dogging him over it for months.
I bite back a smile at his pointed words because Eli never chirps, on or off the ice, but he always has my back. He gives a bitter laugh, brushing off the remark. It’s an unspoken rule that no one steps to Elias Westbrook.
“Your girl did a good job,” says Kayce.
My girl.
“She did.”
After our night out, it must have been pretty clear to Kayce that Summer wasn’t going home with him. That was why he decided to have his fun during pool. I couldn’t complain because my night ended with a kiss. Elementary or not, it was fucking electric.
Scanning the place, I spot Summer at one of the booths. She’s wearing those tight jeans that hug her ass, and her white top hangs off her shoulders. The ruffles along the neckline make her look like a fucking angel, and I have a strong urge to find a quiet corner where I can yank it down and have my mouth on her.
I snap out of the thought when I feel my blood rush to my groin, but I can’t quit looking at her. Having her inches from my lips and not kissing her that night heightened everything.
When Summer turns, looking as radiant as ever, her eyes meet mine and widen for a split second before she smiles then turns away. That surprises me because Summer’s been anything but nervous with me. Angry? Absolutely. Nervous? Never.
I excuse myself from the guys and head over to her, shaking my head. “That won’t work.”
Her eyes sweep over me. “What won’t work?”
“That smile.”
She crosses her arms “What’s wrong with a smile? It’s polite.”
“Not from you, and definitely not to me.”
She pulls her lip between her teeth to hide a smile. “Ah, so you like it when I’m rude to you?”
“Obviously.”
“Degradation kink?” She knocks a playful hand to my chest, and the touch zips through me, heading somewhere dangerously low.
“You’ll have to find out.”
She purses her lips. “Next time Kilner’s hocking a loogie, I’ll send him your way.”
“I’m cured.” I laugh. “This is incredible, by the way.”
Brown eyes sparkle. “Really? I can’t believe so many people showed. Last semester’s was a bust.”
“It’s all you. You need to start believing what you put out there matters.”
A blush tints her cheeks. “I’m glad you came.”
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
Her laugh fucks with something in my chest. “I forgave you the second you showed up at my door in your hockey gear.”
For my whole life the sound of my skates hitting the ice and the puck sliding into the net were the only things that brought me pure happiness. I was sure there would be no other sound or substance that could rival that feeling of euphoria. Except now, I feel like I’m an addict who got his first hit after years of sobriety. Summer’s light laughter fills my ears and drifts to a part of my brain that brands it to memory. Now, the thing that brings me peace, what I yearn for like a game-winning goal, is the sound of her laughter and the sight of her smile.
“Summer!” She turns to the volunteers beckoning her.
“I should check on them,” she says, glancing back.
A pang of disappointment hits, and I feel the urge to press her against my chest. It’s like the further she is from me, the more that string between us strains. My wish comes true when long, wavy hair twirls, and she lunges forward, tiptoeing to hook her arms around my neck. A rough sound of surprise escapes me, but I quickly recover and wrap my arms around her.
It’s a long hug, full of the smell of peaches and the feel of her perfect body pressed against mine. My arms tighten around her warm waist, and her breath hitches. Sooner than I hope, she pulls back an inch, lips so close to mine I can taste them. Her eyes draw me in with the force of an ocean wave.
“Save me a ride on the Ferris wheel?” she says.
The boyish excitement that surges through me is embarrassing. “Of course.”
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