Expectations (Book Two)

Chapter 9

Lyla

I walk out of the dining hall with Megan by my side. We just finished dinner and are walking over to the arena for Shawn's game now. I zip up my jacket, still feeling the chill in the air as winter is still very much present. I check the time on my phone and we still have twenty minutes until the game starts and the walk only takes about ten.

"I still can't believe you aren't coming tomorrow. It just feels wrong to be going without you," Megan whines out as we make our way down the sidewalk.

I know she's referring to the fact she leaves for Mexico tomorrow for Spring Break. I sigh to myself softly, feeling slightly left out myself that I'm not going. Not that it wasn't my choice to stay behind.

"I know," I admit to her. "But there's always next year." I glance over at her to see her nodding her head.

"I guess so. I just wish I had my wing woman there to be ridiculous with me. They have a karaoke bar at the resort that I am dying to go to. Oh, and they have a foam party the one night too!" She squeals excitedly and I feel a pang of jealousy deep in my stomach.

I only have myself to blame for feeling this way. I could have gone to Mexico. I was given the choice several times. I had seriously considered going when Megan initially asked me, but I didn't want to go without Shawn.

I had briefly contemplated buying both our tickets and surprising him with it but I knew he would never accept it. I know for a fact that he would have been embarrassed and refused to go. I'm not trying to play dumb to the fact that we both come from very different financial standings.

Fortunately for me, I have never had to worry much about money or missing out on opportunities and I had my parents to thank for that. Not that in any way I feel like Shawn is holding me back either. He had assured me numerous times that if I chose to go to Mexico he wouldn't have a problem with it.

Truth be told, I am really looking forward to spending this next week with him and visiting both of our families. That being said, it still isn't fun to hear about all the fun things Megan will be doing when she is partying it up in Mexico. A part of me wants to fully indulge in the typical college experience and go on the trip with everyone, but like I said, there's always next year.

"Just make sure to take lots of picture so I can live vicariously through you," I tell her and force a small smile.

"I will document everything," she reassures me as we make it to the front doors of the arena. "There might be some kinky pics in the mix though of Max and I, but I can definitely vet my album first. Unless, you don't want me to."

Megan elbows me in the side and wiggles her eyebrows. I roll my eyes at her absurdness, but I know without a doubt she is being serious about her photo collection.

"I'll pass on the nudes thanks," I tell her and we both giggle.

Megan loops her arm through mine as we navigate through the hockey crowd to head to our seats.

"I can't wait to have sex on the beach," Megan comments out of the blue. We get a few side eyes from people who over hear us and I can feel myself getting embarrassed. When I look over to her though, she doesn't look the least bit bothered by the stares we are getting.

"Max says he doesn't want to because we will get sand in places where the sun don't shine, but I don't care. I think it'll be romantic." I giggle at her as we take our usual seats behind the bench. Only Megan would think getting sand in her ass crack could be romantic.

"I've heard it's overrated," I tell her.

I have heard a few different stories from friends who have done the whole sex on the beach thing on vacation. And from what I've heard it is uncomfortable, sand gets everywhere, and there are bugs in the sand. That would be a big no for me if the opportunity presented itself.

"Traitor," Megan says as I laugh at her.

The music kicks on and booms through the arena, turning our attention down to the ice. I'll never get over the pride I feel in my chest every time I see Shawn stepping onto the ice. That is my man.