Chapter Seventeen
Lucas couldn’t believe how fast that had gotten out of control. Just one touch of her tongue and he was on fire. When she’d said, “Kiss me,” in that husky whisper, she nearly killed him. Were sexier words ever said? Not to him. And some girls had said some pretty graphic things to him.
It was one thing to kiss a girl. It was another experience entirely to have them explicitly say they wanted to. If he hadn’t heard the rest of them coming along the corridor, God only knew what they would have caught Avery and him doing.
He spent the following hour in the locker room, trying not to look at her, worrying that she’d be embarrassed or, worse, that just looking at her would give him another hard-on. He and Avery couldn’t be a thing. Not with the clusterfuck that was his life, never mind what her brother and father would say—and possibly do—if they knew.
Four months ago, he wouldn’t have cared. He also wouldn’t be doubting whether she’d say yes if he asked her out. But that was four months ago. This was now. She hadn’t looked at him once since they kissed, and he was pretty sure that meant she maybe hadn’t felt the same as him.
He tried to shake it off.
“You okay, man?” LeVonn asked, frowning at him. “You look like you just ran over your cat.”
“Just tired,” he lied. Time to change the subject. “Where did Greg go?”
LeVonn settled back against the locker and watched the girls poke around the locker room.
“Called him a taxi. His ankle was hurting. Hey—that might mean you’ll have to play next week, man. Shit.” He sat up. “I bet Coach would rather have you than someone with a sketchy ankle. You better fix your head before Friday.”
Fuck. Why couldn’t he just quit this damn team? “I don’t think—”
“Hey guys!” LeVonn shouted. “With Greg maybe out, I bet Coach’ll play Lucas here. I mean, if his head’s better.”
A few people cheered, and a buzz of adrenaline shot through him. No one had cheered him being on a team for a long time. It was like giving an addict a shot.
No. He couldn’t let it get to him. They had no way of knowing that him being on the team could fuck up their futures.
But God, did he want to play.
For the first time, Avery’s gaze settled on his. She looked excited that he might play. Really excited. She smiled at him. Not a regular smile, but a smile that was just between them. Intimate, maybe?
He took a hard breath and waved the cheers down. “I don’t know if I’ll be cleared to play by then,” he protested against every single part of him that reveled in the attention.
The cheers turned to good-natured boos. Damn, but he already felt like he was part of this team, and that was the very reason he needed to walk away. If he played on Friday, he’d be letting them down just as hard as if he didn’t play.
But if there were negative consequences to both decisions, did it really matter which one he chose?
Ugh. Why was he even allowing himself to think like this?
His gaze flittered back over to Avery. She was laughing with Claire about something. His blood burned for her to look at him that way again. He had no idea how he would survive the week without kissing her. She was standing on a bench, looking at the top of the lockers. How had he kissed her and not touched her long legs? He ached to run his hands along…
He felt blood rushing downward and averted his eyes. Fuck. She had him good. He wondered if she knew.
“Hey, Avery?” Lexi called. She was sitting next to Colin, who had his arm thrown across her shoulders. Avery’s eyes widened when she took them in. “Are we going to Danvers City on Friday? I feel like if you went with your dad, we could stay in a room together like we used to?”
Avery took a second to answer. She squinted at Lexi and Colin, although from where Lucas was sitting, it looked like Colin’s eyes were closed. Her eyes skittered toward Lucas, and he held his breath, waiting for her to answer. If she said yes, it was the universe telling him he should play this one game. Just this one. He’d get to play and hopefully help get the team to the playoffs and get to spend time with Avery.
If she said no, then he would tell Coach his head still hurt and stay behind.
He perked up, painfully aware that he was hanging on her answer. It took everything not to react when she replied, “I guess so,” to Lexi.
Lexi bit her lip and smiled in gratitude at Avery.
He tried not to do the same. He wanted to jump up and punch the air. The universe had spoken.
He had to speak to Coach. Assure him that he’d be fine to play by Friday. His hospital checkup was on Wednesday. If they saw no reason why he couldn’t play, then he was sure he’d be in.