Penalty Box Heartthrob

Chapter 3

Cassie

The second Sophia and I walked into the AKL house, I questioned every decision I’d made in the last four hours.

The place was packed, and apparently half the women on campus had received a memo that pants were optional. Compared to some of them, my new black top was practically church appropriate, yet I resisted the urge to tug the neckline higher. It wasn’t that the shirt showed everything. It was that it showed me. My waist, my curves, and more cleavage than I normally displayed.

Sophia caught my hand before I could pull at the hem.

“Stop.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You were about to stretch that shirt to your knees.”

“I told you I should’ve changed.”

“And I told you that you look hot.”

I glanced around the crowded room, trying not to look like I was searching for one particular hockey player.

“Looking for your boyfriend?” Sophia asked.

“No.”

“You didn’t even look at me when you said that.”

I turned toward her. “Brett is not my boyfriend.”

“Fine. Your crush. I swear he’s the only guy on campus who doesn’t realize you have a thing for him.”

“That’s because men are clueless. My brother once asked me if a woman was flirting with him after she literally said, ‘Can you not tell I’m flirting with you?’”

Sophia nodded. “Exactly. Unless we flash our boobs at them, they don’t have a clue.”

I glanced down at my shirt.

“Stop second-guessing the top. You look good.”

“I’m not second-guessing it.”

“You’ve been second-guessing it since we left the store.”

“Because this isn’t what I normally wear.”

“Which was the entire point.” She leaned closer. “Besides, Brett is definitely going to notice.”

My stomach did the stupid little flip it always did at his name. That was exactly what I’d wanted when I bought the shirt. Standing here now, surrounded by people who wore confidence like it came naturally, I wasn’t nearly as brave as I’d been in the dressing room.

Someone cranked up the music, sending the bass vibrating through the floor.

Sophia bumped her shoulder against mine. “Come on. If we’re going to find Brett, we have to move farther than five feet from the door.”

“I wasn’t looking for Brett.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

We made our way farther into the house. A couple was making out on the couch, and red cups were scattered everywhere.

Sophia elbowed me.

“Ow.”

“Pig at two o’clock.”

I followed her gaze and found Ollie on the couch with a girl practically attached to him and another sitting close enough that I wasn’t sure which one he was there with.

There was only one man on campus Sophia referred to exclusively as the pig.

Oliver Cullen.

“Just keep walking,” I said.

Apparently, I said it too loudly because Ollie looked up. His eyes landed on Sophia, then me, then dropped.

Oh, God.

A grin spread across his face.

“Don’t,” I warned as he headed toward us.

“Well, well. The Deltas are in the house.”

Sophia folded her arms. “Do you ever get tired?”

“Of what?”

“Being you.”

“Nope.”

I laughed.

Ollie looked at me again. “Damn, Cass.”

I immediately crossed my arms over my chest.

Sophia slapped my arm down. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Encourage her to do what?”

“Hide.”

Ollie glanced between us. “You look good, Cass.”

“Thank you.”

There. A normal compliment.

Maybe this shirt wasn’t a terrible idea.

Ollie started to walk away, then looked back. “Matthews see you yet?”

“No.”

“Interesting.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He grinned. “He’s around somewhere.”

Sophia pointed toward the living room. “Go back to your fan club.”

“With pleasure.”

As he walked away, Sophia shook her head. “Pig.”

“He complimented me.”

“He was looking at your boobs.”

“So were you in the dressing room.”

“Mine was artistic appreciation.”

I laughed. “Can we find somewhere quieter?”

We ended up in the dining room, where a beer pong game was underway. Somehow, it was quieter than the living room.

I tried watching the game.

I lasted maybe thirty seconds.

“I thought you said Brett was here.”

Sophia turned toward me. “Lord, woman. Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You’ve scanned every doorway since we got here.”

“I have not.”

“You’re the president of an entire sorority, yet one hockey player turns you into a nervous sixteen-year-old.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ve mentioned that today.”

Then her expression changed.

That smug little smile told me everything.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Turn around.”

I did.

Brett had walked into the dining room with a beer in his hand, laughing at something Marco said.

Suddenly, all the confidence Sophia had spent the afternoon forcing into me disappeared.

I’d seen Brett hundreds of times. I’d eaten with him, studied with him, argued with him, and watched movies with him while wearing pajamas and no makeup.

But this was different because I’d dressed hoping he would notice.

His gaze moved through the room.

Then landed on me.

He stopped.

His eyes widened before they traveled down my body and came back to my face.

For one glorious second, my heart nearly exploded.

He noticed.

Brett walked straight toward us.

“Cassie, what are you wearing?”

And there went my glorious second.

I looked down. “Um… a top and jeans?”

Sophia wrapped an arm around me. “Doesn’t she look amazing?”

Brett’s eyes flicked toward my chest before jerking back to my face.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

He frowned. “You don’t dress like this.”

There it was.

Exactly what I’d told Sophia would happen.

“So?”

“So…” Brett looked around the room. “Guys are staring at you.”

Sophia’s eyebrows climbed. “And?”

“And that’s not Cassie’s thing.”

I stared at him. “Apparently you know my thing better than I do.”

“Cass, come on. That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“Ollie saw you before I did, and the first thing he said was that I needed to see what you were wearing.”

“That pig,” Sophia muttered.

“It’s true. All Oliver Cullen cares about are t**s, hockey, and puck bunnies.”

“Can we stop discussing Ollie’s lifestyle?” Brett asked.

“Lifestyle? I didn’t know STDs were a lifestyle.”

I snorted.

Brett sighed. “Sophia.”

“What?”

He turned back to me. “Cassie, seriously. You don’t need to dress like a puck bunny.”

My smile disappeared.

I had spent an hour convincing myself I looked good. It took Brett two minutes to make me wish I’d worn one of my seventeen apparently identical shirts.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why don’t you just go back to the house and change?”

Sophia’s mouth dropped open.

Mine didn’t.

I’d worried Brett would react exactly like this.

I folded my arms over the shirt I’d been so proud of an hour ago.

“No.”

Brett blinked. “No?”

“I said no.”

Sophia’s smile came back.

And this time, so did mine.