Penalty Box Heartthrob

Chapter 4

Brett

Cassie stared at me like I’d just suggested she leave the party wearing a garbage bag.

“No,” she said.

I blinked. “No?”

“I said no.”

Sophia’s smile came back immediately, like she’d been waiting for Cassie to tell me off.

“Brett, get over it. Cassie isn’t going home to change.”

“You know I can speak for myself, right?” Cassie shot back before turning to me. “We just got here. I didn’t drag myself out tonight just to turn around and go home. And you don’t think I’m used to guys staring at my boobs? I’ve been dealing with that since high school.”

Sophia held up her hand, and Cassie actually high-fived her.

I was officially outnumbered.

“Fine. But don’t blame me when some drunk i***t tries something.”

Sophia gasped dramatically. “Did you hear that, Cass? Brett says you’re getting lucky tonight.”

“That is not what I said.”

Cassie shook her head at Sophia, but when she looked at me again, she wasn’t smiling.

“Why do you care?”

That shut me up for a second.

Because I did care.

I’d noticed every guy who looked at her since I walked into the room. I’d also noticed the shirt the second I saw her, which was probably why I was handling this so badly.

“Because I’m your friend, Cass. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Something changed in her expression, but it was gone before I could figure it out.

She turned to Sophia. “I need some air.”

“Good idea.”

They walked past me, and I watched Cassie disappear into the crowd.

A heavy arm dropped across my shoulders.

“So you struck out with Cass?”

I shoved Marco’s arm off. “I wasn’t hitting on her.”

“Riiight.”

“I wasn’t.”

Marco laughed.

My friends had been doing this for years. Somewhere along the way, they’d decided Cassie and I were secretly a couple, and apparently nothing I said convinced them otherwise.

We weren’t.

Cassie and I met freshman year when we got paired together in class, and we clicked. That was it. She was easy to talk to, funny, and one of the few people who didn’t care how many goals I scored or whether an NHL scout might be sitting in the stands.

She was Cassie.

My friend.

“Your girlfriend looked good tonight,” Ollie announced as he appeared beside us.

I groaned. “She is not my girlfriend.”

“Here we go,” Marco muttered.

“What?”

“You correct us every single time.”

“Because you say it every single time.”

Marco held up a hand. “Okay, Matthews. Look at it this way. Cassie is a girl, right?”

“Yeah?” Where the hell was he going with this?

“And she’s your friend?”

“Yeah.”

Marco broke into a huge grin. “Therefore, she’s your girl friend.”

Ollie pointed at him. “Holy s**t. He’s got you there.”

I groaned.

Technically, the drunk i***t had a point, and I wasn’t about to stand in the middle of a frat party arguing grammar with him.

“You two are morons.”

“But we’re correct morons,” Marco said.

“That’s debatable.”

Ollie grinned. “I told you that shirt was worth seeing.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted her to change.”

Both of them stared at me.

“What?”

Marco took a drink. “Nothing.”

Cassie was beautiful. I wasn’t blind. But the women I usually noticed were more athletic, the kind I met at parties who wanted exactly what I wanted—something uncomplicated.

Cassie had never fit into that category.

Honestly, I’d never tried to put her there.

She mattered too much to screw up what we already had.

“Can we talk about something else?” I asked.

“Sure,” Marco said. “When is Olivia making that rigatoni again?”

I laughed. “There it is. The only reason you miss me living at Ice House.”

“I miss you too. The food is a bonus.”

Moving out of Ice House had been the right decision, even if the guys gave me hell about it. I loved them, but Ollie and Blake could turn a Tuesday night into a party without trying.

I couldn’t afford that this year.

This season mattered. Scouts were already paying attention, and if I wanted a real chance at getting drafted into the NHL, hockey had to come before everything else.

Olivia had needed another roommate at Old Lady House, and I’d needed somewhere quieter. It worked, even if living with Olivia and Anthony came with its own kind of insanity.

“Good luck getting Olivia to cook,” I said. “She practically lives next door now.”

“With the quarterback?” Marco asked.

“Pretty much.”

Football House had its own mess going on. Rumors were flying around campus about one of their players getting a girl pregnant, and since Olivia was involved with Liam, she seemed to know more about it than I did.

I preferred it that way.

Their drama was their problem.

“Still weird that you live next door to the football guys,” Ollie said.

“It’s a house. I sleep there.”

“Traitor.”

“You’ll survive.”

A roar went up from the living room.

Marco looked toward the doorway. “Truth or Dare.”

“Blake?” I asked.

“Who else?”

That explained why we hadn’t seen him.

Ollie immediately perked up. “Now we’re talking.”

“You were making out with two girls ten minutes ago,” I said.

“And?”

Marco laughed. “Don’t bother.”

The three of us headed toward the kitchen for another drink. I grabbed a bottled beer instead of one of the red cups sitting near the keg. At these parties, I preferred knowing exactly where my drink had been.

Marco twisted the cap off his. “No football players here tonight.”

I looked around.

He was right.

“Probably because of everything going on.”

“Better them than us,” Ollie said.

“Don’t jinx us,” I replied.

Marco lifted his bottle. “To no scandals.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

We clinked bottles.

Then my eyes wandered toward the doorway again.

I could still see Cassie in that black shirt in my head.

Marco caught me looking.

“She’s still not your girlfriend,” he said.

“Shut up.”

He laughed and took another drink.