Love and Other Chemistry ♡ Trevor Zegras

2 | Milly

Part Two:
A Little Crush

I grumbled to myself in a half-assed fashion. Going to a freezing cold ice rink full of sweaty boys who whacked around a stupid puck while they pranced around in hockey jerseys and thigh-hugging shorts wasn't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Wednesday afternoon . . .

. . . Then again, getting to see Jack Hughes legs work on overdrive as he dove for the puck, trying to reach it before it hit the boards was something I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to. Besides, I love sweaty boys, who didn't? So, what could go wrong?

As I finally made my way towards the rink, where Trevor promised he would be, the sound of pucks smacking on the boards and a skates carving the ice drifted into my ears. I'd never actually seen a game of hockey before, I always just assumed it was a winter time activity, usually undertaken somewhere fun and cool, like Canada. Right now it was the middle of summer, I imagined these boys would be out playing beach volleyball or something else during the summer time.

The image of a sweaty, shirtless Trevor in nothing but a bright red speedo and a pair of Ray-Ban's flashed in my mind. His hair perfectly styled, that dumb smirk he does so often gracing his lips and a brightly coloured volleyball tucked under his perfectly oiled bicep, pressed hard against his gloriously toned hips.

I shook my head immediately, trying to rid it of the horrendous nightmare that I had just been forced to face. Gross. Trevor shirtless. I held back the physical gag that threatened to tumble from my lips.

However, as soon as I pushed open the doors of the rink, I was smacked square in the cranium with a much more damning image. Sure, it was burning hot in the summer, but did that mean that half of the boys hockey team had to change in the stands, while the other half stuck to only sporting muscle shirts that showed far too much abdominal than I was ready for?

I was almost positive that I'd died and gone to heaven, and worse, Trevor was one of the boys sporting only his upper body sweat and a pair of skin tight shorts that clung to his glistening legs like I was clinging to air. His base layer pants were tight and gripping at every inch of his skin, forcing me to choke, but none the less they were far hotter than I was willing to admit.

I tore my gaze away from the dirty blond haired boy, wishing to God that I hadn't, for now I was staring straight at the shimmering chest of Jack Highes. My heart pounded hopelessly in my chest as a raging blush rose to the apples of my cheeks.

I took the first seat I found, needing a moment to collect myself and, quite honestly, remember how to breathe. The moment I focused back on the testosterone filled rink was the moment I really did die. No, seriously, I almost fainted. Right there on the spot.

Maybe it was the ridiculous summer heat, or maybe it was the cold of the rink, or maybe it was the fact that Trevor was jumping for a set of keys being thrown at him, his entire stomach stretched out, showing off his lean figure.

I blinked rapidly, trying to shake the blush from my cheeks and nose and forehead and the very tips of my ears. If he were to catch me now, I'd never hear the end of it. Trevor may be lacking in the brain department, but he certainly made up for it in other areas.

The dude was a legit Greek God, maybe even more so then Jack, my all time number one crush, and that was a pretty strong call coming from me.