THE HOUSE COULD have lit on fire, and I’d be fine just lying there in his arms. Because that is what Aiden does—he makes me feel safe even in moments where I’ve never felt more alone. After dropping me off this morning and making sure I was okay, he finally went to practice. Aiden didn’t complain, but I suspect Coach is having an aneurysm right about now.
“Where have you been?” Amara asks when I step inside.
“Got into it with my dad. I finally let it out. Not everything, but I didn’t stay quiet this time.”
Worry mars her features. “Shit. Did he take it well?”
I snort. “Not in the slightest. I haven’t checked my phone since, but I’m sure I have voicemails from my mom.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel better.” She hugs me. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re coming home in the middle of the afternoon in an oversized hoodie.” She pulls at my sleeve to inspect it. “Oh, and what’s this? Number twenty-two, Captain. Interesting.”
I yank it out of her grip. “I slept over at Aiden’s, Nancy Drew.”
Amara lifts herself on the counter. “Tell me everything.”
“I cried. He held me. And when he asked me to stay so he could care for me, I said yes.”
She makes a face like she’s going to cry. “This is monumental. You stayed over at a guy’s place. You! Ms. I don’t do anything relationship-y.”
“I don’t know, Amara. It feels like a huge step because I’ve been staying away from everything hockey for years, and I’ve been hurt before. It’s like I just opened that jammed door and Aiden walked through and uncovered every nook and cranny.” I feel vulnerable, and more naked than I’ve ever been.
“I know, and I get that letting yourself be with him, without the whole friends-with-benefits thing to fall back on, is a huge leap, especially with everything that just happened with your dad.”
Emotion clogs my throat. “He’s the only other guy I’ve actually been with since Donny, and we know how that turned out.” Donny was sweet at first, but his true self showed eventually.
“Donny’s old news. As far as I know, his preppy ass doesn’t exist.” She grimaces as if thinking about him makes her physically ill. “And he’s a terrible reflection of the kind of guys out there.” Her expression turns inquisitive. “Maybe that date with Oliver will help you sort out your feelings.”
I completely forgot about my date with Oliver. Oliver is in one of Amara’s electives which is one of the hardest courses at Dalton because of its seven course credits. She may or may not have given him my number because she’s trying to partner with him for the course. I gave her the go ahead when I wanted to explore my options. It was before Aiden held me as if letting me go would physically hurt.
The gears in my brain spin faster, and I find Amara awaiting my answer. Aiden’s words about making my own decisions float back to me and I know what I need. “You’re right. Maybe it will.”
DID YOU KNOW Yellowtail Snappers are nocturnal predators?
Oliver Benson, an accounting major with a passion for agriculture studies, as well as my date for the night, has been droning on about his trip to the Florida Keys.
Yesterday, I felt like even if the world collapsed, I’d be okay if I stayed in Aiden’s arms. I haven’t seen him since because I think he’s giving me space, but he has texted me random things about the guys that make me laugh. Mostly about Kian and how he’s coping with the Cassie situation. Apparently, Dylan’s been teaching him how to figure skate.
Oliver continues talking, and my eyes glaze over with boredom as I mentally organize my schedule, but a familiar voice interrupts my calendar debrief. Two irritatingly familiar voices, headed straight for our table. I chose this off-campus diner for my date specifically because it’s not full of Dalton students.
Dylan falls into the booth beside Oliver, and Kian tries to slide in next to me, but I stay rooted in place, so he can’t fit. We have a silent stare down until he hip-checks me, sending me sliding across the leather to make room for him.
Kian brightens with mock surprise. “This is crazy! What are the chances of us seeing you here?”
“You don’t mind if we join, right, man?” Dylan asks Oliver.
“Friends of Summers are friends of mine,” he says slowly.
I try not to roll my eyes. These two are interrupting our date, and he’s inviting them to stay?
Dylan extends a hand to Oliver. “I’m Dylan.”
“Oliver.”
“Nice to meet you, Ollie. That’s Kian,” he says, pointing to a beaming Kian. “By the way, you left this in Aiden’s bedroom, Sunny.” Dylan pulls something out of his pocket and places it in the center of the table.
Oliver eyes the hair clip, and I hope I’m doing a decent job of looking neutral even as I clench my fists. “That’s not mine.”
Kian’s head tilts. “You sure? You’re wearing an almost identical one right now.”
Before I can lie again, Oliver chimes in, “Are you talking about Aiden Crawford?”
Could this date get any worse? I suppose this is karma for not actively listening to Oliver’s fishing story.
“Yeah, Summer was getting that vitamin A with a side of that D, if you know what I mea—ow!” Kian yelps when I elbow him.
“We did an assignment together,” I explain. “You know, the one on athletes and burnout.”
Oliver hesitantly nods, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand what Kian is getting at. Just as I’m about to throw the stupid hair clip at Dylan’s smug face, the waitress pops in.
“Oh! Is this a double date?” she asks, looking between us.
“Yup,” says Dylan, putting his arm around Oliver. “I think it’s love at first sight.”
Oliver’s eyes widen in alarm, and he shrinks in the booth. Kian and Dylan have personalities the size of the campus. It’s hard to be around them if you can’t keep up. This date will leave Oliver with some serious post-traumatic stress issues.
“Fantastic. What would you like to order?”
Before Kian can speak, I push him out of the booth. “Actually, there’s been a change of plans. Come on, Oliver.”
Dylan doesn’t budge for an uncomfortably long minute until he sees my scathing glare and concedes, letting my date out. I walk straight out of the diner, taking Oliver’s sweaty hand in mine. We’re about to cross the street when someone calls my name.
Connor Atwood.
Haven’t I suffered enough? I throw a sheepish smile at Oliver. He’s gawking at the quarterback. I might as well have run into the entire Dalton roster.
“Haven’t seen you in a minute, Sunny. What’s up?”
Apparently, the damn nickname is catching on. “I’m good.”
Connor runs a hand through his blond hair. “Are you coming to the charity game?”
“Not today, I’m kind of busy. Maybe next time.”
He cocks his head. “Really? I thought you and Crawford would for sure come together.”
My teeth grind. “Don’t know why you would think that.” Either he’s being purposely obtuse, or he hasn’t seen Oliver’s hand in mine.
Connor’s eyes shift towards him. “Who’s this? Cousin?”
“No,” I grit out. “This is my date, Oliver. Oliver, this is Connor.”
Connor scrutinizes the poor guy. “My bad. What’s up, man?”
Oliver smiles and politely shakes his hand. “What game are you talking about?”
I almost groan out loud. Why must he engage Connor? “Football. You don’t watch?” Connor asks.
“I’m not really a fan of sports.”
He gives me a look as if saying, Seriously, this guy?
Squinting past the heavy rain, I mark my exit. “We have to go. I’ll see you around, Connor.”
In the car, the rain pours harder. The parking lot is secluded, just me and this guy who has been on the weirdest date ever. The only sound between us is the water droplets hitting the windows. When he starts the car, the suggestive lyrics that spill from the speakers make my skin itch.
“Sorry about that,” I finally say, scattering the hush.
He pulls onto the main road toward Dalton. “Don’t be. Your friends seem nice.”
I suppress a snort. Those assholes were not trying to be nice. “I feel like I ruined our date.”
He puts his hand high on my thigh. Touching isn’t something I expected him to initiate, but his brevity is shining through in his car, but it’s obvious what he’s hoping for when he faces me at a red light. I guess my accountant hypothesis has been proven null.
A car honks behind us, and he accelerates but doesn’t remove his hand. “I have you now, don’t I?”
Did he?
My eyes dart to the window to watch the familiar streets run by. It isn’t an SAT-level question, and I’m sure he meant it more in the literal sense, but I can’t shake the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach when the campus finally approaches.
I find myself nodding, keeping the plastic smile perfectly poised. The only plus to the situation is the heat that blows through the vents, warming my freezing limbs. When he parks outside Iona House, I pry my eyes from the windshield, and the face staring back at me is expectant.
The heavy knot in my throat doesn’t go down when I swallow.
I shove every thought of Aiden written on it. Every kiss and touch, all the ones he said I wouldn’t forget, I desperately try to push it all out of my head when Oliver asks, “Can I kiss you?”
