Her head tilted to the side as she studied me. “And what’s in it for you?”
It was a fucking gamble but worth it. “You’ll break your rule and give me your number.”
“What?” she shot back so fast I had to grab onto the back of her chair to keep her from tipping over.
I didn’t answer. I knew better than to open my mouth and accidentally talk her out of it.
“I can’t break the rules. Like, I can’t.” The pupils in her eyes expanded, and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Especially not with you.”
“Because you think I’m hot.”
“Fishing for compliments isn’t cute.”
“You sure about that?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she rolled her eyes. “What do you want instead of my number?”
“You’re telling me you never give out your number? Or just not to hockey players?”
“Of course guys have my number. Obviously, Anthony has it.”
I reminded myself Anthony was her roommate, who had a hot boyfriend, before continuing. “Okay, we’re just studying. Think of me as Anthony.”
“Like Anthony?” Her brows drew together, and I could practically see her mind working as she stared at the desk. “I get an A and you get my number?”
“You got it.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? Okay?”
That earned me a smirk. “Yes, oh wonderful Jax. I’d be absolutely honored to study with you.” She put her hand across her heart dramatically, and her mouth stretched into a smile. There was the sass I expected from her.
“That’s better.” I dodged away from her smack. “Where can we—”
“We could grab a spot in the east wing library. The study rooms are already booked for the semester, but there are usually free tables.”
She was already looking over her scheduler app. It was full of categories and notes highlighted in different colors. The way she agreed to be partners sounded as if it physically pained her to say yes, but I was her best shot, and we both knew it.
“I’m free Saturday or Sunday afternoons.” That way, I could still sleep in from our game the night before.
“Nope, I work at the bookshop most weekends. How about Monday night?”
“I practice late every Monday through Wednesday. We get done early on Thursdays. Would 6:30 work?” Scheduling anything into my life was always tricky. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to make time for people; it was that I didn’t have any.
Sidney tucked her hair behind her ear while looking at her screen. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
She twisted to put her things into her bag, and her shirt shifted, revealing a long, thin silver scar running from her neck down her shoulder. I wanted to know how she got it. I wanted to know everything about this girl.
Her eyes scanned the empty room. “Well, this has been… interesting, but I’ve got to get to my next class. I’ll see you on Thursday,” she said, quickly grabbing her stuff and nearly running out the door.
I smirked. There was no way I would lose this bet.
SEVEN
SIDNEY
Mia: Enjoy your date, hot stuff.
I huffed out a laugh and typed a reply.
Me: You know damn well this is not a dat
Anthony: Keep telling yourself that, Cupcake.
It was not a date because I didn’t do dates. It was a bet. One that I wanted him to win.
Wait? Did I want him to win? He wins, I got an A, and he got my number? Was that how that went? Well, shit. I guess I did want him to win. Not that I had high hopes, but at this point, I would have tried anything.
My day had been an absolute nightmare. I woke up late for class, my second one ran long, and work called asking if I could do a double shift on Saturday. I wanted to let the entire week drain away. Instead, I dragged myself to the library to study with Jax. For real, though, I needed to study.
I wore my softest leggings, a light gray sweater, and my favorite pair of chunky black leather boots. Comfortable was the name of the game tonight.
I opened the large oak library doors and smiled. This place had felt like home for the last three years. My schoolwork was all online, but there was something special about coming here. The college had renovated the library a few years back, adding an extension to the entire east side. It gave the space a duality of traditional on the left and modern on the right.
I spotted Jax standing a few feet into the building and swallowed hard. God, there was something irresistible about a guy in an oversized sweater, sweats, and a ball cap. He looked good, relaxed in his skin, and I had to fight hard to keep my eyes from drifting downward.
As soon as he spotted me, his face brightened, and the corner of his mouth kicked up. His gaze drifted down my body from head to toe and then ever so slowly back up again. Jax’s eyes darkened when they met mine, but they looked a little sheepish. Busted.
He shrugged his shoulders, giving me a boyish grin that showed off his dimple. That was when I noticed he was holding coffees. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
“That for me?” I clasped my hands together to stop myself from grabbing it.
“Yes, hello to you too.” He held out the cup, amusement clear in his voice.
“You don’t understand how much I needed this.” Seriously, though, if he kept up with the coffees, he might get himself another stalker.
“I thought you might. I grabbed us a table in the back,” he said, gesturing with his head as he led us deeper into the older part of the library. Our desk was tucked around a corner, providing as much privacy as possible in a public space. We sat, and I made quick work of mixing my drink with the sugar and creamer packages on the table.
I took a sip and moaned in the back of my throat. Perfect.
“That’s the best thank-you I’ve got in a while.” His voice was a low rasp.
I ignored my hot cheeks and took out my laptop, opening the OneNote document I’d created for this class. It was easier to keep firm boundaries in the professional setting of a lecture hall, but tucked away, even if it was in a library, made everything feel… different. I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Jax cut into my thoughts and gave me a mischievous grin. God, no wonder women flocked to him.
He leaned on the table, a casualness settling over him. “Where are you from?”
“We’re going to do small talk now?”
His eyebrows rose. “Looks like it.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Here.”
That perked him up. “Oh yeah? What school did you go to?”
“St-Clair High.”
“Ha! I went to St. Xavier. We kicked your hockey team’s ass.”
“Try again. We won Provincials all four years I was there.”
He smiled, his cheeks indenting with perfect dimples. “Your team cheated.”
I barked out a laugh. “Did not—”
Jax held up a hand to stop me from what would have been an epic tirade about why it was not okay to accuse a team of cheating just because you lost. “So you do like hockey? Just not college hockey?”
“Oh, I like college hockey.”
“But you didn’t recognize me at the pub?” The color drained from his face, and he looked like he sucked on something sour. “Wait? Did you recognize me and this whole rules thing is just a way for you to turn me down?” He took his hat off, ran his hand through his already messy hair, and sighed, “Fuck.”