“It’s vegan. This whole place is vegan. No dairy, no lactose.”
His jaw dropped, and a soft huff of laughter jumped in his chest. “Huh.” I watched him take a bite, then do a happy wiggle. “This doesn’t suck.”
“Glad you approve,” I chuckled, taking a bite of my own, mixing the pie and ice cream together.
Lucas flashed me a real grin then. “I haven’t had ice cream since I was a kid. I’ve tried some of the lactose-free stuff, but it just wasn’t the same. This is really good, though.”
And the conversation drifted. Ice cream, favorite deserts, favorite foods. Finally, his phone chirped, and he groaned. “I need to get going. Shit. Look, can we meet later? Like... lowkey? Cass is talking with the team and shit to make sure this,” he motioned between us, “doesn’t get my ass fired, but until I get the all clear for fraternizing, I want to keep this quiet.”
I nodded, standing as he did. Lucas dropped several bills on the table, joining the ones I laid out by my water glass. “Let’s trade numbers?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be easier than trying to track you down all over Hell’s half acre.”
“I haven’t heard that phrase since my grandma died,” I chuckled, putting my number in his phone and naming it Best D.
For defensive player, of course. Cough cough.
Lucas smirked. “Think highly of yourself, do you?”
When he handed it back, I glanced at my phone. “Just Lucas?”
“Just Lucas is all you ever need, babe,” he snarked, flipping imaginary long hair and scooping up his bag to sashay out of the diner with an exaggerated sway of his hips. I couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up, nor the warm rush when he glanced back at the window, giving me a wink before he disappeared down the sidewalk.
Lucas didn’t call or text me that evening. Or the next day. Or that evening either. By day three, I was getting antsy, and it showed.
“Dude, what the fuck man?” Anders demanded, scowling when I dove for my buzzing phone, narrowly missing his drink. “I just got this house—don’t fuck up my carpet!”
“Sorry, man,” I muttered, fumbling to check that last text.
Heloise.
I loved my sister more than life itself, but I couldn’t help the disappointment I felt at seeing her name. As bummed as I was, Anders was interested. “Oooooh, the sister,” he sing-songed. “Is she still single?”
“Not for you,” I growled, grabbing my phone back when he tried to open the lock screen. “She doesn’t play around, man.”
“You're her brother. Of course you wouldn’t think that,” he chuckled. “Hey, Yowie! Get yer feet off my table!” Anders pushed himself away from the sofa and stalked over to give Yowie hell about scuffing the mahogany. Anders was house proud about his new place in Hyde Park, a combination of adorable and annoying. Before leaving, I had the urge to smudge up a few windows and see how long it took him to notice. It’d only be fair, I reasoned—he’d clogged the toilet when I moved into my new place and didn’t say anything, leaving me to find it after he left.
Yeah. I’d definitely smudge a few windows.
I checked Heloise’s message—a reminder about Greggy’s recital next week—and started to put my phone away when it pinged again.
Lucas.
Anders, Yowie, Matty, and Rye were setting up Scrabble (the life of a pro football player is one thrill after another; don’t let anyone say otherwise) so I slipped into the kitchen. A few of the other guys stood around the huge island in the center, munching on snacks Anders had laid out. Not a single one of them paid me any mind, so I opened the message.
Lucas: Free tomorrow around 7 pm?
Me: I can be. Why?
Lucas: Three guesses and the first two don’t count. Meet me so we can get the ball rolling on this.
The next text was an address on Fifth Street, an apartment.
He was inviting me to his place. Holy shit... I bit my lip, doing my best not to grin like a goofball at my phone while surrounded by people who would have zero problem giving me crap for the rest of my life about it.
Me: Should I bring anything?
Lucas: Like... pen and paper or something? I guess.