Page 9 of Love on the Ice

“Tired?” I ask.

He chuckles then shuffles over to the coffee maker. I watch as he starts the pot. I’m not a big coffee drinker. I’m more of a little kid when it comes to drinks. I want it to taste like ice cream. So, I don’t order it because I’d rather eat my carbs than drink them.

“Where’d you disappear to last night?” he asks.

There’s a moment of silence while he turns his head to look at me and wait for my response. I think about lying to him, about keeping Lorelai to myself. Not that I think he or any of the others would go after her or anything if I told them that I like her.

It’s just… I’m not sure how I feel exactly.

But I know that she’s mine.

I’m just not sure how that’s going to play out yet.

I like to play the game to win, and I cannot read her. Guess I’ll just have to spend some more time with her to get to know her better.

“Took one of the girls out for some real food,” I state.

“Fuck, those chicks did not have a good food-to-booze ratio,” he murmurs.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask me more about Lorelai. I’m not ashamed of her or my attraction to her. I’m just not exactly positive about what it is yet. I need to see her again. I need to know more.

“They really didn’t. I couldn’t hang.”

“You had the right idea,” he groans. “I’m in pain for it this morning.”

A few moments later, the kitchen is full of the rest of the guys, all grabbing a hangover coffee—black. They’re all suffering, and I know it’s because they were trying to impress those women, and they drank far too much.

“Practice tomorrow,” Lev states.

“Rest today,” I laugh.

I would be a liar if I said they all got to work to unpack immediately, but there was a football game on, and while we don’t play football, that doesn’t mean we don’t watch it. We do. And we like it. We also try to talk smack and point out the fact they couldn’t make it on the rink if they tried.

But we all know they’re athletes in their prime, just like we are, and they could probably do it with a little practice… or a lot of practice.

Opening up a box, I find a bag of chips and open it, sinking down in the chair and taking a handful before tossing it to the next person. Game day snacks. If that’s what you want to call them. Chips, no dips, and not much else.

Partially because we’re guys and also because we haven’t gone to the store yet. Something we should probably do soon.

“Did you score with the hottie you left with?” Forrest asks during a commercial.

I think about his question for just a second, unsure if I want to give them any information about her at all. I don’t. But at the same time, if I act like it’s a big secret, they’ll definitely have something to say about that.

“We went to dinner. We came back. That’s all it was,” I reply, trying to make it sound low key.

It was low key, but at the same time, it was anything but. Because just going to dinner with this girl, to a crappy diner with great food, was better than any other date I’ve ever been on. I’m pretty sure it was the company that made it so wonderful, though.

“But there is going to be more,” Lev states, his accent thicker than normal because he’s hungover.

I shrug, reaching for the chips and taking a handful out. “Maybe,” I say, shoving them into my mouth.

“Oh, there’s no maybe about it. I watched you watch her walk up those stairs,” Otto snorts.

Flicking my gaze over to him, I arch a brow. “How did you see me watching her when you were three sheets to the fucking wind?”

He leans forward, his eyes staying focused on mine. “I saw what I saw, Reid.”

I’m sure he did see it, though, because I was unabashedly watching Lorelai walk up those stairs. I took in her sweet ass wearing those short shorts as she moved up one step at a time. It was quite the show, and I loved every fucking second of it.

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