Stolen Jerseys / ✓

3.00: chapter twenty-nine

The drive to Elle's was annoying. Connor's car smelled strongly of cologne, and it took me a good fifteen minutes to see the cracked open bottle in his backseat. Aside from my eyes practically burning, every slow driver seemed to be out on the road that night. By the time I pulled up in front of Elle's house, it was already seven-ten.

I pushed open the door and wrinkled my nose at how strongly I smelled because of Con's cologne. Shaking my head, I started towards the steps, only to realize that I had forgotten one of the most important things Connor had told me to get.

Flowers.

Eyes wide, I whipped around my head in search for something. And that was when my eyes landed on the rose bush in Elle's yard. The roses were in full bloom, and, honestly, what better flower was there to get other than roses?

I jogged over to the bush and frowned, looking at it. I reached towards one of the roses on the top - where it looked safer - and wrapped my fingers around it. I bit my lip and tugged, eyes going even wider when I felt something warm dripping down my palm.

"Shit," I mumbled, lifting up my hand to see the gash across my palm. I swung my hand around, only to see blood drip onto the rose. Cursing again, I rubbed my hand across the petals in a futile attempt to get the blood off the roses, "Stop bleeding!" I cried, rubbing my hand across a plant to try and clean it off.

"Scott?"

I whipped around to see Elle standing by the door, eyebrows furrowed. I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned, sending her a crooked grin. She just laughed and I ducked my head, cheeks flushing. I kept my head down and walked up the steps, ignoring her laughter when she saw the mess at the rose bush.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, taking my hand out of my pocket and awkwardly dropping it by my side, "Connor told me to get roses, and then I grabbed the wrong keys and forgot so I had to take Con's car. And by the time I showed up, I realized I forgot the flowers and I - "

Elle cut me off by placing her lips gently on mine. I didn't mind, though; I just smiled against her lips and kissed her back. Elle had a way of making everything seem a lot better, and that was something I was extremely grateful for.

"Ready?" she asked, holding the door open for me.

I grinned and laced my (clean) fingers with hers, "Of course, babe."

Dinner with Elle's family was definitely something.

Elle's mom was extremely nice, and she had even given me a cloth to wipe my hand off with and told me how "adorable" it was that I had tried to get flowers last minute. Coach Monroe, on the other hand, had just been sitting at the opposite side of the table, eyeing me up. I knew he was doing the "protective dad" bit, but it was still pretty terrifying.

I cleared my throat and drummed my fingers on the table, but that stopped when Coach Monroe shot me another glare. Elle stiffled a laugh and gave my hand a small squeeze, and I shot her a small smile. Mrs. Monroe just smiled politely and shot her husband a glare.

"So, Scott," Coach Monroe started, and my gaze immediately whipped towards him.

"Coa - " I began, and then realized that might not have been the best thing to say. On the ice he was coach, but with Elle he was Mr, "Mr. Monroe."

That time Elle couldn't help herself; she busted out laughing, fork dropping onto her plate. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and I gently kicked her foot with mine, but that did nothing to stop her laughter at how fucking awkward I had been during this dinner. I turned around and looked at Mrs. Monroe, only to see that she was biting her lip to keep from smiling.