Page 71 of Playoff
I shot Justin a glance, afraid he’d notice this byplay, but he was discussing the wine list with Fitch.
This time I met Alek’s gaze, frowning. “Not as often as the team does.”
He ran the toe of his boot up my shin. I pushed it away. Maybe I should hope he was traded.
“That sound good to you two?” I focused my attention on Fitch. “A red, don’t you think?”
Alek turned to his teammate. “Sorry, I missed that.”
“We’ll order a red, right?”
Alek nodded. I didn’t bother—Justin knew what I liked.
Our server took our orders and dropped some bread on the table. Fitch reached for a slice and offered it to Justin. He shook his head. “No thanks. Jess made bread today so I’ve already had a lot. I’d rather leave room for the main course.”
Fitch paused in buttering his bread. “Oh? Jessica bakes?”
I couldn’t help shooting a glance at Alek. The teasing looked was gone from his face. Wait, what had he done with the bread I gave him? He wouldn’t have told Fitch I gave it to him. He could have picked it up at a bakery, somewhere nearby.
“She’s good,” my twin said.
“I bake, but Justin cooks. He makes an incredible spaghetti carbonara.”
“What meat do you use? I can’t always get guanciale,” Fitch asked.
Excellent. He must cook too, and it moved the attention onto something other than the bread. I’d have relaxed, except that Alek still had a frown crease on his forehead.
Chapter 30
Swedish James Bond
Alek
* * *
It was fun to tease Jess but I reined it in. I didn’t want to say anything that would tip JJ off to the fact that I was spending time with his sister. Pretty sure that would upset him enough even without knowing about the naked parts.
The food was excellent, and we kept the conversation on places we’d eaten. Hockey came up, though we tried not to dwell on it since it wasn’t Jess’s thing, and I didn’t want to think about being traded while she was around. As the meal continued smoothly, I thought JJ and I might be able to have a civil relationship and work as teammates. I had to give him credit—he was trying. Just as long as he didn’t know I was banging his sister.
We had to stop. I had to stop. But a glance at Jess revealed her lips closed over her fork as she enjoyed her lasagna. I didn’t want to stop.
We had the normal squabble over who would pay. JJ used his familiarity with the restaurant to get the server’s attention and slide his card over before Fitch or I had the chance to do the same, so he won. Then we grabbed our coats and headed back to where JJ had parked.
JJ’s Ioniq wasn’t sporty, but practical was his thing. There was enough room that Fitch and I were comfortable in the back. If Jess had been back here, it would have been too appealing to touch her, trying to rile her up without getting caught. She tempted me to push the limits, and I really didn’t need help with that. Hooking up in their storage locker? I shook my head. Way too risky, but I hadn’t been able to resist.
The four of us went up the elevator together. Fitch and I got off first, since we were a couple of floors below the twins. I followed Fitch to the door and into the condo. I was feeling good. That hookup with Jess, an awesome meal, and better hockey to look forward to without the tension with JJ—things were looking up.
When he got to the kitchen, Fitch pivoted to face me. “Where did you get that bread?”
I looked behind him to where I’d left it on the counter, in the bags Jess had packed it in. It was just bread. I met his eyes. “Why are you asking?”
“Because it’s a little suspicious that Jess made bread today, and you show up with some for the first time since we’ve been rooming together. Bread in plastic bags with no price tag or store label. You weren’t even wearing a fucking coat when you left and came back with it. I hope to god I’m wrong, but I can’t help putting that together with your shy visitor, and…”
What the fuck was I supposed to say? I couldn’t tell him the truth. I just had to come up with a reasonable explanation for where I’d found the baked goods. They were left at the desk downstairs by… Who would I accept unlabeled food from? Think, Alek…
He held up a hand. “Your silence says it all.”
My breath whooshed out. “It’s not what you think.”
