Page 69 of Daring the Hockey Player
"I'm on it," I say and retrieve three glasses.
"I'm good. I have my drink here." Charlotte lifts her hard lemonade to indicate that she doesn't need anything else to drink.
He runs a hand through his hair before returning to dicing up the vegetables, tossing the chopped cucumbers into the wooden bowl with the fresh lettuce and carrots already mixed in.
"I'll just get my appetite ready," Charlotte says and then pins Jasper with her gaze. "Are you dating anyone?"
"Excuse me?" He clears his throat and glares from her to me as if I put her up to this line of questioning. I didn’t. This is one hundred percent Charlotte being overly eager to see me get laid. Well, not literally see me, just hear about it from me.
“You two are roommates. Obviously, you aren’t bumping uglies,” she jokes. “Are you dating anyone?”
“I’m not interested,” he says curtly as if to imply there is no interest between him and Charlotte. He makes that clear quite quickly, and I don’t want it to mean anything else, like he harbors feelings for someone else—me.
Wishful thinking.
"No! I'm not asking for me," Charlotte says and puts her drink on the counter, holding her hands up. "I just mean that you’re roommates. Have you two talked about the inevitable? When one of you brings someone home, and there is a scrunchie or tie on the doorknob?"
"We're not in college. We have our own bedrooms," Jasper says, and his voice is thick and raspy. "I don't think a tie or scrunchie is necessary. Do you?" He holds the knife in his hand and points it in my direction, his gaze meeting mine.
"I'm good with discretion as long as I don't walk in on you sleeping with some chick on the couch or air hockey table."
Jasper grins. "Did Kyler tell you about that?"
"What?" Thankfully, this time I don't have a drink in my mouth, or someone would have gotten a second sprayed shirt.
He's laughing. "It's a joke. Relax. I will keep my festivities in the bedroom or the shower. Anywhere with a locked door."
"Duly noted," I say and plop my butt down on the stool next to Charlotte. She's grinning, and I elbow her. She's asked him enough questions to humiliate me for the rest of my life. I don't trust what else she'll ask over dinner.
EIGHTEEN
JASPER
Dinner with Amberand Charlotte is interesting. Her friend is growing on me. Not in the 'I want to bed her' way, more along the lines of I can see why Amber keeps her around.
Where Charlotte is wild, and without abandon, Amber is quiet and reserved.
They are complete opposites, yet somehow complement each other. Charlotte also won’t stop herself from saying whatever comes to mind. It’s a bit refreshing but also horribly annoying when she's trying to set the two of us up.
I'm not blind to the attraction and the chemistry between Amber and me.
But I'm trying to be a better man by not acting on it, and if bro code alone wasn't reason enough before, then the fact we're roommates is an even bigger reason to abstain from having sex with Amber Ryan.
Okay, not just sex.
Kissing.
Fondling.
Hell, even tickling her and feeling her squirm under my body cannot happen again.
My dick is still twitchy, and I've done everything imaginable to try to put distance between us. I don't want her to see me as cold or distant. I do like her, I like spending time with her, but it can't be as anything more than friends.
We cannot jeopardize our friendship.
We finish dinner, and the girls clear the dishes and prepare some type of interesting fruit parfait for dessert. It actually tastes a million times better than it looks. Of course, the kitchen is a disaster, with whipped cream on the ceiling, floor, and all over Amber.
Has she ever used an electric beater before?
