Page 8 of Love on the Ice

“I don’t know if I would call it drive,” I murmur. “But maybe it is.”

He leans forward and stabs a piece of pancake, then brings it to his lips. “It is,” he says. “You want more for yourself than you had as a kid. I get that. It’s what I want, too.”

His words slam into my chest. They pierce through my heart, and there’s something beautiful about them. Just a few simple words, but they have meaning that hits deep inside of me. I’m not sure he meant it to have the impact it has, but it does.

The cake comes just a few moments later, and I don’t have to ask him twice to share it with me. We appear like a couple from the outside and not strangers who met just an hour ago, but that’s how life is, right?

Looks aren’t always what they seem.

Right now, I appear confident and funny. It’s not real. Inside, I’m self-conscious and scared. I don’t think a guy like Reid would understand that at all. He isn't just confident. He’s the epitome of confidence.

When I can’t eat another bite, he pays for my meal, ignoring my protests to go Dutch. “I should be buying you dinner to welcome you to the neighborhood,” I say.

He snorts. “No way. This is for getting me the hell out of that girlie food party.”

I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself. It was a girlie food dinner party. My friends mean well, but they really just wanted to meet these hot guys, and nobody has ever bitched about their food before because they’re pretty.

“That’s what happens when the skinny girls throw the party.”

Reid frowns, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tosses some money on the table and then stands, extending his hand, his palm facing up. I scoot out to the edge of the booth and slip my fingers into his waiting ones.

I feel a surge of electricity flowing through my body at the touch. It’s so intense that I pull my hand away. Rubbing my fingers together, I try to figure out where the shock came from, brush it off, and decide it was just static.

We leave the restaurant and head home… well, to my home, where the party is probably still in full force. I’ll probably retreat upstairs, unable to handle the fawning, knowing that it will make me jealous even though I don’t want to be.

Maybe jealous isn’t the right word.

Envious is probably a better description.

Either way, it’s just for the best, for my peace of mind, to go upstairs and study until I pass out. Keeping my memories of tonight, of a nondate with a handsome boy. One where we shared pancakes and the best chocolate cake I’ve ever tasted.

Absolute perfection.

Chapter

Four

REID

I’m not sure how many of the guys stayed with how many of the girls. But I left shortly after Lorelai took her sexy ass up the stairs. I have a whole shitload to unpack today, and I want it done and organized so I can focus on my game and only my game.

Scrubbing my palms down my face, I let out a groan as I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up straight. Shuffling toward the bathroom, I look down at my dick and let out another groan.

Morning wood is no joke.

It takes me a lot longer than it should before I can take a piss, mainly because as I wait for my cock to go down, I start thinking about Lorelai lying in her bed across the street. I think about her smile, then about the way she rationalized how hungry she was.

She’s a hottie, for sure.

Once I’ve pissed, I wash my hands, take a shower, then get to work unpacking my room. I try not to make a lot of noise. No doubt my roommates are still passed the fuck out as I unpack my clothes.

Once I’m finished, I make my way downstairs and head toward the kitchen. I’m still full from last night, but I want to get at least a protein shake in to really start my day. I should go for a run, but I’m tired and sore from moving everything yesterday.

I hear some groans, doors opening and closing, toilets flushing, and footsteps. The house is up. Part of me hates that I’m an early riser. The other part of me is glad I can relax the rest of the day.

I’m shaking my drink in the container when I see Alexei appear at the foot of the stairs. He yawns, lifting his hand and running it through his hair. He looks tired as fuck. I don’t know what time they came in last night, but judging by the exhausted look on his face, it was late.

“Those girls are fun,” he announces with a groggy voice. “But we cannot party with them before games.”

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