Blocked (Boston Terriers Hockey #3) - Jacob Chance Page 0,24
upbeat mood plummets like a sinking ship. I know we’re not a couple or doing anything more than casually dating, but I don’t want him to be ashamed to be seen with me either. I’m tempted to climb right back inside the cab of his truck.
Shaw acknowledges him with a wave as he approaches.
They clap hands together in the typical teenage boy way while I stand there torn between wanting the pavement to part and suck me down inside and wanting Shaw to acknowledge me—and admit we’re here together. Although, at this point, I’d settle for him just looking my way.
“Who’s this?” The newcomer’s curious gaze lands on me.
Shaw’s head sharply swivels toward me as if he forgot I was there. Great. “This is Maddie Winters.”
“Winters?” he questions. “As in Marshall’s little sister?”
“Yeah. Maddie, this is Greg.”
I tip my head toward him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I don’t think I ever saw you at school. Do you go to a different one?”
Why am I not surprised that he doesn’t know me?
“Nope, same as you. I was a year behind you guys.”
He presses his lips together and grunts an unintelligible reply. “So, you’re playing babysitter while Marshall’s gone?” he directs his question to Shaw.
“Nah, Maddie can take care of herself.”
Greg looks at me skeptically. I’m tempted to show him how capably I can kick him in the balls.
“How’s Marshall doing at camp?”
“He’s loving life right now,” Shaw answers. “There are a lot of new female camp counselors where he is.”
There are? I didn’t know this and he’s my brother. But I’ve only received one short text from him since he left.
Greg chuckles. “Lucky dog. He’s surrounded by fresh meat.”
“Yeah,” Shaw’s reply is less than enthusiastic. “We’re going to grab some ice cream. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“There’s a party Tuesday night. I’ll send you the details.”
“Sounds good.” Greg walks away and Shaw nudges my arm. “Do you know what flavor you’re getting?”
I see how he wants this to go. I’m supposed to pretend that wasn’t just awkward as fuck. “Salted caramel in a cup with whipped cream on top.” How fortunate for him that I’m not big on confrontation.
“I’ve never had that flavor. It sounds good.”
“It’s my favorite. I get it every time I come here.”
We wait in the line leading up to the outside window. There are tables inside, but during the warmer months it’s more convenient to order this way.
When it’s our turn, Shaw insists on paying, shaking his head when I try to hand him some money. It’s a sweet gesture, and my disappointment in him over his interaction with Greg lessens slightly.
I should probably cut him some slack. We’re not in an easy situation, and even being casually involved, there are sure to be speed bumps along the way as we try to navigate along this new territory. We went from being friends, but not particularly close ones, to sucking face and dating. The major factor that complicates our situation is Marshall.
We sit facing each other at one of the picnic tables, Shaw straddling the bench and me with one leg crooked up on the weathered wood.
I pull the scoop of ice cream from my spoon with my lips and the sweet, smooth flavor hits my tastebuds. Immediately, I take another spoonful, this one has whipped cream too. “This is delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much.”
He spoons some of his sundae into his mouth. “I’m sorry if things were awkward earlier when I saw my friend, Greg.”
“It’s fine.” I let him off easy, as is my way.
“I’m pretty sure that the word ‘fine’ means it’s anything but. That’s a favorite of my mom’s when she’s upset with my dad.”
I shrug. “It’s all good.”
He places his palm on my knee. “Maddie, it’s okay to tell me you were annoyed. I want you to be honest with me,” he encourages.
“Really, it’s okay.”
“Maddie, don’t hold back. I know how you are with your family, and I don’t want you to be that way with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a pleaser and a peacekeeper. You’d rather give in on something you want than to ruffle any feathers.”
I take in his words, muddling them over, and Shaw gives me the quiet I need to do so.
Staring at his hand, so dark in contrast to my fair skin, I like the way it looks and feels—exhilarating and reassuring at the same time. I like that he wants me to be heard. He’s right, when it