Against All Odds (Holt Hockey Book 2)

I have a problem, and his name is Aidan Phillips.

That’s all I can think about as Theo talks about the grad program at MIT he’s hoping to get accepted into. He asked me if I wanted to grab coffee after our shared algebra class, and I didn’t see any reason to say no at the time.

Now, I’ve realized a reason. Aidan was right. Theo does like me, is viewing this as a pseudo date, and I can’t stop thinking about a six-three hockey player.

When I first found out Hot Tub Guy was a hockey player on my dad’s team who I’d have to see on a weekly basis, I was mortified.

Somehow, Aidan erased that embarrassment.

I’ve never met someone so comfortable in his own skin, and maybe some of that confidence has rubbed off on me.

He didn’t tell me to keep what happened between us a secret. He didn’t freak out about the fact my father is his coach. He didn’t ask for a different tutor.

And the immediate attraction I experienced when I first saw him, sitting in that steaming tub staring up at the stars and sipping whiskey, hasn’t gone anywhere.

No matter how many times I try to convince myself it’s a terrible idea, it remains. It’s expanded and grown, turning into a force I have no control over.

I think of him at stupid, inconvenient times like right now, when I’m sitting and talking to a guy I should like. I’ve never experienced flutters of nerves around Theo, let alone the burning need I fled Aidan’s bedroom with, but maybe I could.

I’m trying to, unsuccessfully.

“What did you think of Boston?” Theo asks me.

I resist the urge to make a face.

My distaste has nothing to do with the city. Or the university. It has everything to do with who I was there, how I accepted the bare minimum.

After living with Chloe, Malia, and Dakota, I’m aware of how checked out my other roommates were. After having classmates like Theo, who’s made an obvious effort to familiarize me with Holt’s mathematics department, I’m aware of how cutthroat my old classmates were. And since meeting Aidan, I’m aware of how lackluster my relationship with Walker was.

“It was nice,” I tell him. “I didn’t explore as much as I wish I had. It’s easy to take it for granted while you’re there. But the science museum is amazing. And I used to study on the Common in the warmer weather. Great restaurants.”

“Do you miss it at all?”

“No,” I reply, then take a sip of my coffee. “I just fit here better, I guess.”

Theo chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. My folks are pushing for me to consider University of Iowa. They thought Washington was far. Massachusetts sounds like a different planet to them.”

“That’s nice, though. That you’re so close to them.”

He nods, his expression serious. “Yeah. They’re the best. My dad took out a second mortgage on the house to send me to the best high school in the state.”

“Do you have any siblings?” I ask.

“Yeah, I…”

The rest of Theo’s answer is drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears.

Aidan is walking in with two guys I don’t recognize. One of them is wearing a Holt Hockey hoodie, so I assume they’re all teammates.

He’s grinning in response to what one of them is saying, his expression nothing like the defeated, exhausted one he was wearing on Tuesday night.

I’m still not sure what possessed me to climb on his bed and act like his personal masseuse. My mom used to get terrible migraines when I was younger, and I got used to seeing my dad rubbing her temples regardless of whether she was experiencing one or not. Aidan said he was sore, and a back rub was just the thing that occurred to me to do. But I feel weird about it now, just like I’m embarrassed Hunter walked in on us.

I showed up to make sure things between us weren’t weird, and then I managed to make it more awkward.

“What about you?” Theo is asking.

Since I missed most of what he just said, my response is a gamble we’re still on the same topic. “Nope. Only child.”

Theo says, “Lucky,” with an exasperated eye roll that makes me think I missed some funny story about his siblings.

I could tell him that my mom had two miscarriages after me, but I don’t.

Those trips to the hospital feel too personal to share with a guy I hardly know. Never mind that I told Aidan about Walker cheating on me the first time we met. Maybe there’s some thin line between not knowing someone at all and not knowing them well enough, and that’s the zone Theo and I are in.

“I’m going to grab another muffin,” Theo tells me. “You want anything?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.”

I glance down at my open notebook as soon as Theo leaves the table. We were comparing answers on this week’s problem set earlier. Now it’s a convenient way to look busy while I’m sitting alone.

My phone buzzes on the table.

AIDAN: You look bored.

I keep my eyes down, fighting the urge to look up at him and react.

I didn’t think he’d noticed me. Theo chose a table tucked in the back corner.

RYLAN: I’m studying math. According to you, that’s boring.

His response is immediate.

AIDAN: I never said that.

AIDAN: Looks like you’re on a date.

I gnaw on my bottom lip, then stop when I remember he might be watching.

RYLAN: You’ve implied it.

RYLAN: And so what if I am?

Two minutes pass before he responds.

AIDAN: When are we rescheduling tutoring for this week?

RYLAN: You tell me. You’re the one who canceled on Tuesday.

As soon as I send it, I regret it. I would have had trouble breathing with a bruise like his, let alone studying.

As far as excuses go, I’ve definitely heard worse.

RYLAN: We both know your schedule is busier than mine.

AIDAN: Just pick one of the times that’s open on it, then.

AIDAN: Or send me *your* schedule, and I’ll do it.

RYLAN: Fine. I’ll email you tonight.

AIDAN: Text me.

AIDAN: I only check my school email once a month.

RYLAN: Please tell me you’re kidding.

AIDAN: I prefer talking in person.

AIDAN: For example, you showing up in my bedroom instead of just texting me back? A plus plus, tutor.

This is when I should stop texting him. I can feel our conversation veering into dangerous territory.

RYLAN: How’s your bruise?

AIDAN: If you wanted a shirtless pic, you just had to ask.

When I don’t reply, he texts again.

AIDAN: If I say it looks awful and feels worse, will you rub my back again?

RYLAN: No.

AIDAN: Worth a shot.

AIDAN: I’ll live.

AIDAN: Thanks for asking.

I wonder if anyone else has.

Do guys talk about injuries with each other or is it all macho, tough guy shit? I know his parents aren’t checking in on his health.

“Sorry. Long line.”

Theo returns to his spot next to me.

“No problem.” I fix a smile on my face, then finally give in to the urge to glance over at Aidan.

He’s with the same two guys, plus a group of four girls who’ve materialized from somewhere. The one standing closest to Aidan is currently getting glared at by the girl working the espresso machine. I recognize her from the last time I was in here at the same time as Aidan, and it appears the torch she’s holding for him is still blazing.

Aidan glances at me before I can look away, catching me staring. His expression is unreadable.

The girl grabs his arm, then rises on her tiptoes to whisper something. Aidan glances down at her, grinning in response to whatever she said.

I know he’s a flirt.

I’ve told him—multiple times—to hook up with someone else. Part of me thought that would be a relief. A door slamming closed. Temptation removed.

So I’m totally unprepared for the hot flare of jealousy.

For the strong urge to stand up and walk over there and push the manicured hand off his arm like I have any claim to stake.

For the realization that I’m even more screwed than I realized.

I force my attention away from Aidan and back to Theo.

Successfully, until my phone buzzes ten minutes later.

I don’t check it for another twenty minutes, on the way to my next class.

Aidan sent me three texts.

The first one is a photo. He didn’t take it, and I smile at the thought of him asking one of his teammates to snap it. One of the guys he was with is in the background of the main parking lot, laughing.

Aidan’s pulling his shirt up with one hand. He’s holding his coffee cup in the other. Strategically, so I can’t actually see the bruise on his side. That makes me think it looks just as bad as he was joking about.

Beneath the photo, he’s sent two messages.

AIDAN: Since I know you like looking at them.

AIDAN: BTW, I’m still waiting on that review…