Number Eleven

Chapter 4.

Oakley POV

There's something special about Ava that I can't quite put my finger on. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something about her that I can't help but want to know more about.  

The game tonight definitely did not turn out how I wanted it to. 

At first, I was just going to push the dirty prick around a bit for the hit he made, but then he started running his mouth about my sister. It also didn't help my case that I was the only person on the ice that could hear his vile comments, which I guess is what he wanted. 

I peer over and see Ava's head resting on her left palm, eyes closed, with her elbow leaning on the armrest that separates us. 

She's definitely a sight for sore eyes. 

"I hope you're still awake,  we're pulling up," I say gently while desperately trying to keep my focus on the bumpy, gravel road ahead of me. 

I bring the truck to a stop in the only acceptable parking space before scoping out the familiar area. 

 "A river?" she asks, confused as she stretches out her neck and eyes the woodsy clearing. 

I reach into the back seat and grab the heavy woolen blanket that I try to always carry with me. "Yeah, I found it a couple of days after I moved here. It's a perfect place to think when I'm not spending all of my time shoving guys into the end boards and shooting pucks around." 

I chuckle before opening my door and stepping out, the cool breeze running over my warm skin.

Since I've moved here, I think I've been here almost every day. The peace and quiet reminds me of home. 

"Well, should we sit down?" She smiles up at me before I give her a slight nod and lay the blanket down on the slightly damp grass. "Tell me something about yourself."

We both plop down on the slightly scratchy material and I have to force myself to ignore the tingling sensation that runs up my arm when it brushes against hers. "What do you want to know? I'm an open book."

Let's hope she starts with the easy stuff.

"What's your favorite food?" Huh, that really is easy.

"Anything Italian. My mom makes the best Italian food in the world. What's yours?"

"Mmmm, probably going to have to go with popcorn," she gushes while rubbing her stomach in small circles.

"Popcorn? You sure are boring, Ms. Layton." I send her a wink and watch as her cheeks turn the light shade of pink that I've noticed a few times tonight.

I think pink is my new favorite color.

"You wound me, Oakley!" she gasps, bringing her hand up to rest against her heart as if I actually hurt her feelings while a loud laugh breaks through her smile. 

There's that sound again. 

The intoxicating sound of Ava's contagious laughter. 

"It's your turn to ask." 

"Right," I cough. " How long have you and Morgan been best friends? Matthew talks about her all the time. The dude is completely obsessed with her." 

She starts picking the black nail polish off her fingernails. "About five years. We all went to high school together." 

I sit patiently as she smiles to herself before continuing.  

"She really is in love with the guy, so it makes me happy to hear it goes both ways. In all honesty, I was quite worried in the beginning.  No offense, but I'm sure we can both agree with how hockey players are with women," she chuckles, giving my shoulder a quick bump.

"Sounds like you have some experience in that department."

Did she? From the slight change in tone, I'm guessing it wasn't a pleasant experience. 

"Not all of us are the same, though. Just most of us." I flash her a goofy grin while bumping her shoulder back. Honestly, most of us are the same, but I just don't want her to think that I'm like most of them.

"Yeah, he plays on your team actually, David Remer." She inches slightly closer to me and I don't miss the slight flicker of fear that passes through her eyes as she says his name.

Remer is a first-class douche canoe, but something else is going on there.

"Yeah, I know him." Unfortunately. The guy is a f*****g pylon.

"What happened? If you don't want to tell me you don't have to, but I hear I'm a pretty decent listener." I lean back on my hands while I try to gently encourage her. 

"I was just young and naive," she replies shortly, her eyes glued on the red plaid pattern of the blanket.

"Being young doesn't always make you naive. Want me to kick his ass?" That earns me a giggle before she brings her eyes back up to meet mine.

"No, I'm a big girl. I can fight my own battles, but thank you." She holds my eyes captive in hers.

Looking in her eyes is addictive and once I feel myself starting to inch forward, I know I have to snap out of it. Luckily for me, it's her that breaks eye contact with a quiet cough as she changes the subject. "I've been wondering something ever since I heard you joined the team."

My interest sparks at her words, a smirk spreading across my lips. 

"Keeping tabs on me, hey?" 

Her eyes roll as she tries to hide the embarrassment I've already caught sight of. "It's hard not to when the entire campus is gossiping about the new hockey star in town." 

"What is it you've been wondering about, beautiful? Ask away." 

Her arm brushes mine once again as she places her hands behind her, leaning back against them before turning her head to the side.

"Why Vancouver? I'm sure you had much better offers than our team. We haven't won a championship in... I'm not even sure how long."

My body tenses, her question causing the familiar ache to reappear deep in my chest.

"I just wanted to stay close to my family. That's all," I push, my words sounding vacant and dull. 

She nods, her eyes comforting as they melt away my outer shell with a single look. "How long have you been playing? You're really talented."

"Since I was five. So fifteen years, can't say I plan on stopping anytime soon either."

"So that's the dream then? Going professional?" she questions.

"Yes ma'am, gotta make my momma proud." 

I'm sure my chest puffs out a little as I say that. 

I do everything for my mom.

"I think she's already proud of you." 

God help me; this girl is after my heart.

With a small burst of confidence, I decide to reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together while laying them on my thigh. I can feel my own face getting warm, am I blushing?

I promised I wasn't going to let anything or anybody distract me from making this year all about hockey, but right at this very moment, I don't think I care.