Puck Block : Chapter 33
I should be more excited than I am.
Knox is attractive, and the look in his eyes tells me that he finds me attractive too, but where there should be butterflies flying, there’s a pit instead.
The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that Ford is standing beside me, and I feel like I need to prove something to him–for instance, that he isn’t the only guy who can make me blush or fill my head with dirty thoughts.
I need to prove it to myself too.
“We’ll be right back.” Claire pulls on my arm, and we leave the group of guys when they start chatting about their game.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.
We make a beeline for the back door. The wind whips at our hair, and she puts her hands on my upper arms, forcing me to look her in the face. “You’re being weird.”
“I am not,” I argue.
But I am. I’m completely out of sorts.
Claire’s hands fall from my arms, and I look up to the stars, taking a deep breath.
“What is going on with you? You’ve been so off. Even at practice.”
My arms fall to my sides with defeat. “There’s too much going on. Between school, dance, my parents, Ford, Professor Sterling…”
Claire steps forward. “Whoa, what? Back up…what are you talking about?”
Her eyes bug out when I give her the CliffsNotes version of the last couple of weeks, leaving out the part about my insulin because I don’t need anyone else angry with me over that. When the back door opens and Theo’s head pops out, she snaps her gaping mouth closed.
“Get back in here, you two. It’s freezing.”
“We’re coming!” Claire pulls me back into the party but whispers in my ear before we make it over to Ford and Knox. “If Ford is pushing you toward this guy, I think you should go for it. He’s either going to stand by and let you be swept off your feet, keeping his promise to you, or…”
Her sentence trails at the end. The guys stop mid-conversation, and I purposefully keep my eyes away from Ford because I think we both know nothing good can come from it. If he wants to push me toward some guy he approves of, then I’m going to take the bait. If anything, maybe it’ll take him off my mind.
Knox and I snag eye contact, and I take my time checking him out. He’s tall, athletic, and has a killer smile. I decide to let his hockey player arrogance go for now and smile softly. “Want to dance?”
He looks surprised, like he can’t believe I would be bold enough to ask him. Before things got all messy with Ford, flirting and toying with a guy was my specialty. Dancing with subtle, teasing touches was the recipe for an exciting night, which would then be ruined by Ford and Emory. Unfortunately, I became a little too comfy with their interruptions, and it hindered me.
Knox steps forward. “I’d be an idiot if I said no.”
I’m suddenly whisked into the middle of the party with a pair of steady hands glued to my jeans like they are one with the denim. It’s easy to slip into normalcy and dance with him. The room spins before he dips me, and my hair flies past my face after he pulls me up. I’m trapped against his chest with his hand cupping the side of my cheek, and I laugh softly.
“Where did a cocky hockey player like you learn to dance?” I ask.
He smirks before spinning me again. “I had to take lessons for my sister’s wedding last Christmas. It seems to have paid off in the long run.”
I laugh again, and the song changes to a faster tempo, so I turn in his arms and start to move against him. His warm breath washes over my neck. “And where did you learn to dance?”
I grin. “Years of practice.”
“Lucky me.” His teeth grip onto my earlobe, and I tremble. Oh.
Claire and Theo are beside me dancing, and when she meets my eye, she wiggles her eyebrows. It’s encouragement that I keep a hold of because when Knox spins me and puts his hands in the back pockets of my jeans, I catch Ford staring from the kitchen.
I’m grounded immediately.
The moment is short-lived. Ford abruptly pushes off the island, grabs some girl by her drunken hand, and they plant themselves right beside Knox and me.
No. I silently tell him. You set me up with him, so deal with it.
It’s like he can read my mind, because he aggressively rolls his eyes and turns his back and starts to dance with the half-stumbling girl.
I glance around the party quickly and then back to Knox.
“Let’s go.” I grab his hand and pull him to the stairs. He trails after me willingly, but his eyebrows fall with confusion. “We gotta disappear before my brother decides to make an appearance and force us apart.”
“Who’s your brother?” he asks.
“Emory. The goalie.”
I’m not worried about my brother even in the slightest. Instead, I’m worried about his best friend.
Knox puts on the brakes. “Your brother is Bexley U’s goalie?”
I peer over my shoulder at him. “Yeah, are you having second thoughts?”
Ford comes to mind, and I hate him for inserting himself into my brain, whether it’s on purpose or not.
Knox’s face smooths. “Absolutely not. Lead the way.”