Page 16 of Players Love Hard
“I will kill him,” I grunt.
She chuckles. “Technically, Jamie spilled beer on my dress, so I don’t see the harm in letting him pay. He has more money than he knows what to do with, anyway.”
Irritated, I grit my teeth. Why are the rich kids at this school so oblivious to the real world? Just because they have money doesn’t mean they need to spend every cent. I work my ass off at Rizzo’s Bakery for ten dollars an hour. Jamie probably makes more than that in dividends with each breath he takes.
He said his dad is in tech. I know little about his family or how they have amassed so much wealth. All I know is they’re loaded. But I’ve always liked that Jamie doesn’t show it. Aside from his expensive clothes, he could blend with my friends from high school, no problem.
“I’d still like to pay him back,” I tell Jordan.
“He won’t take a cent from you, babe. I wouldn’t even mention it the next time you see him.”
“I’m seeing him soon. I offered to make dinner for him, which also means feeding his teammates.”
Jordan leans back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “What were you thinking? Half the ice hockey team lives in that house. You’ll be cooking from now until the dance competition.”
I laugh. “I’m making pasta and meatballs since I have so many mouths to feed. It shouldn’t be that bad.”
“So, you and Jamie…” She raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on with you guys?”
I shrug, unsure of how to answer. “We’re friends, I guess. Not sure. So far we’ve kept everything casual.”
“You guys hooked up, right?”
“We made out in the backyard at the Delta Sig house. That’s about as far as we’ve gone.”
“But things are getting serious.” Her tone matches her intense gaze. “I can tell he really likes you.”
I snort at her comment. “We’re friends.”
“With benefits,” she adds.
“I guess. I’m not sure what to call it.”
“You wouldn’t offer to make dinner for his teammates if you didn’t like him as more than a friend.” A beat passes between us before she continues, “You and Jamie look cute together, I hope it works out.”
“Thanks, I hope so, too. I like him, but there’s a part of me that’s so afraid to get too close.”
She sits up and pulls her legs into her chest. “Jamie’s one of the good ones. You should give him a chance. Guys like him don’t come around that often. Most of these trust-fund babies are so spoiled rotten they collect women like trophies. But Jamie is different. His dad didn’t come from money.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I remove my cell phone from my pocket to check the time. “I have to get going before I have a house full of hungry hockey players attacking me.”
She covers her mouth and chuckles. “Depending on how you look at it, that’s not a bad thing.”
I roll my eyes at her, laughing.
* * *
Ten minutes later, I knock on Jamie’s front door, my heart slamming into my chest. Anxiety rushes over me in waves, nerves churning my stomach. Why am I so panicked? I want to cook for Jamie. His teammates will only create more of a buffer, one I so desperately need right now.
Jamie opens the door, a bright smile on his lips. He looks adorable with his brown hair falling onto his forehead, his blue eyes illuminated by his boyish expression. Why didn’t I kiss him years ago? How stupid of me not to make my move back in freshman year.
“Hey,” he says, holding open the door for me.
I step inside, and as he closes the door, he hooks his arm around my back, pulling me into a quick hug. “We’re having Italian. That’s about as far as I got.”
“You’re helping me cook,” I remind him. “You can taste test while I work.”
He smirks. “Good, because I’m starving.”
