Page 19 of Shane
“Why don't you sit closer to the door if you need to leave early?” I whisper to Shane, ineffectively trying to shoo him away and divert his attention from me.
“Are you trying to get rid of me already? I wanted to sit next to a familiar face,” he grins, and it’s hard not to reciprocate the sentiment– his smile is so infectious.
A girl sitting in front of us, munching on a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips, suddenly turns her head, bats her fake eyelashes, and inserts herself into our conversation.
“Excuse me, but I just wanted to say hi, Shane. I'm Lisa.”
Admittedly, Lisa is drop-dead gorgeous. Her skin is flawless, her boobs are huge and even without her standing up I can already see that she has a lot of junk in her trunk–but damn, sis’. I’m sitting right here.
It’s not that I care if they talk or anything, but I think it’s rude for her to interrupt my conversation with Shane…not to mention her breath stinks and snacks aren’t allowed in the auditorium anyway.
“Hey, Lisa, nice to meet you,” he responds politely.
“I just wanted to say I’m a big hockey fan, and I look forward to seeing what you’re going to bring to the ice this season.”
Funny how this Lisa girl doesn't even bother to acknowledge my existence on this planet, much less introduce herself.Nice to meet you too, potato chip girl.I guess that’s par for the course on a small campus with sixty percent women and a team of hot hockey players.
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” he replies.
“I’ve been following your career since you were at Pineboro Academy,” she adds as if he’s enjoying all the smoke she’s blowing up his ass.
Well, maybe he is.
I’ve never seen him grin this hard.
“And I look forward to seeing you in the stands, beautiful.”
What in the actual fuck?
Didn’t he call me that same lame nickname at The Pike where he kissed me?
What a jackass.
Practically glowing at this point, the Lisa girl turns around and whispers something in her girlfriend's ear.
It’s no wonder that athletes treat girls like garbage because look at how we act. What’s he even done to deserve all that “you’re the greatest” energy from her? She doesn't even know him, not even a little bit, and clearly, neither do I.
He may be easy on the eyes and a damn good kisser, but he’s just like every other guy led primarily by their egos and often by their dicks. He just knows how to mask it better.
“Did you have fun at the rest of the bar crawl the other night?” Shane turns his attention back to me, sitting on my other side.
“It was all right,” I say cooly.
“Just all right?”
“Yep.”
“You didn't have fun meeting me at least?” he baits.
I’m unsure if this is Shane's default, and he can’t help himself or what. Is he actually flirting with me after doing the same thing two seconds ago with Lisa?
“I appreciated you getting the drinks for me, but I wouldn’t say meeting you was fun. It was what it was.”
Clearly listening to our entire exchange, Lorenzo then lets out a heavy chuckle, probably somewhat exaggerated for Shane’s benefit. I can tell Shane is annoyed when his eyes darken, but then, just as quickly, a mask of indifference drops across his face.
“I guess I recalled the night somewhat differently.”
“I guess you did.”