Penalty Box Heartthrob

Chapter 5

Cassie

I stepped outside with Sophia. It’s cold out here, but the chill feels refreshing compared to the packed gray house filled with people.

The music inside was muffled, yet I could still make out the songs. The party was still going strong, and it struck me as odd that no one was out on the deck yet.

Sophia and I leaned our backs against the house, needing a break from Brett and his incessant comments.

“I don’t get Brett. He acts like he likes you but won’t admit it,” she said.

I sighed. “Trust me, I know. It messes with my head sometimes.”

It truly does. I guess that’s what unrequited love feels like—you hope they’ll realize you’re the one, but they never do.

“I mean, I get it, Cassie. What was that back there? He was acting possessive about that damn shirt,” Sophia continued.

I stared into the distance. “Yep,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ in my response.

I let out a sigh. I should have just stayed home like I wanted. I only came to see Brett, and now that I have, what’s the point?

“Don’t do that,” Sophia interrupted my thoughts.

I turned my head toward her. “Do what?” I asked.

“Think you should leave. Don’t go there, Cass. So what if Brett has an issue with your shirt? You look great in it. If it’s such a problem, a gentleman would have offered you his shirt to cover up,” she said.

“You read too many romance novels. He would never give me the shirt off his back,” I replied.

“Yeah, well, if men read romance novels, they might learn how to win us over and not be like that,” Sophia said, pointing toward the house.

I laughed. “Depends on the romance book. I’m not sure I want all men to be muscle-bound, tattooed, and acting possessive all the time.”

“Oh, so you don’t want a hockey player? Okay, then forget all about the hockey gods,” she teased.

Oh my god, she’s right—I did kind of describe hockey players.

“I’m hopeless, I guess,” I giggled.

“We all are, babe. Trust me on that. That’s why men drive us crazy!” Sophia exclaimed.

I nodded in agreement. Yeah, Brett definitely drives me crazy. I need to stop obsessing over him and ignore the mixed signals he sends, like what he said to me tonight about the tank top.

Speaking of my top, “I’m actually getting cold. Want to head back inside?” I asked Sophia.

“Oh thank god, yes! It’s way too cold to be out here all night,” she laughed, swinging her arm around me.

As we walked back inside, we were met with the sight of a girl doing a headstand—topless.

“What the hell is going on with that?” Sophia exclaimed, staring at the girl.

“No idea. My guess is she’s trying to impress one of these guys,” I said.

Sophia tilted her head. “Well, she’s going about it the wrong way, but nice boob job—can hardly see the scar,” she noted as we moved away from the scene.

I laughed; only Sophia would say something like that.

“You know what?” I said to her.

“What?” she asked as we entered the room where people were dancing.

“I think I feel like dancing,” I replied.

“Yep, I do too! Let’s show them what the Deltas can do!” Sophia said, throwing her hands up in the air and sashaying her hips into the dance area.

I joined her. Screw Brett! If he thinks these guys will see me as a "lucky bunny" because of my shirt, let them. They already know I’m a Delta, so they’ll assume I don’t need a shirt to prove it.

Soon, it seemed Sophia and I had others joining us on the dance floor. Sophia leaned in close and whispered, “Do me a favor—dance seductively with me. I want to test something out.”

I glanced past her and saw Olly watching. I knew what Sophia was up to; she wanted to teach him a lesson.

I wasn’t sure what had happened between her and Olly, but I could tell she couldn’t stand him. I nodded and turned her around, running my hands suggestively down her body.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as the room came alive, knowing we were about to put on a show.

Sophia leaned forward, doing her sexy dance move, and playfully pressed her backside against me. I pretended to swat it.

A quick look at Olly showed him with his arms crossed, watching us intently. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would report back to Brett about my little performance.

After all, he was the one who ran off to tell Brett I was wearing a shirt he didn’t approve of.

Sophia turned around, getting in my face as if we were about to kiss. “He’s eating this up!” she whispered in our faux embrace on the dance floor.

“Mmm-hmm,” I hummed, turning her back around and resting my head on her shoulder as I caressed her body.

“I think we sent the guys a good message,” I whispered in her ear.

Sophia switched our positions so she could mimic what I’d been doing. “Yeah, don’t mess with us, because we mess harder,” she laughed.

Not exactly how I would have put it, but yeah—I think we sent the hockey gods a message. Don’t tell us what we can do; it’s your loss.