Huh. Arianna might be faster than Jennie. She’s back on the other side of the diner before I can blink.
“That’s exactly why it’s hard to meet someone, though,” I point out, and Adam nods. “I have no idea when someone is genuinely interested in me, or the rich hockey player.”
“What about your neighbor?” Carter asks. “You guys still fucking?”
“Nah, nothing’s going on. She lives across the hall from your sister.” Wishing I’d left off that last bit, I bury my warming face in my menu. I’m shit at lying, even worse at hiding things. If Carter prods even a bit, there’s a good chance I’ll accidentally shout that I tongue-fucked his sister. “You said Jennie was uncomfortable with the neighbor stuff, so I figured since we’re, like, friends by association, I wouldn’t do it anymore.”
Cautiously, I lift my gaze. Then I deflate. Carter’s not even looking at me. He’s blowing bubbles in his fucking chocolate milk.
“Jennie can be a bit scary sometimes, but she said she had a good time watching the game with you.”
My mouth falls open and my brows skyrocket before I demand my brain lower them back down to their home. I chug my drink to hide that I’m barely hanging on right now. “She did?”
“Yeah, said you ate good. Something about the dessert you brought being, and I quote, orgasmic.” He rolls his eyes. “She’s so dramatic.”
“Wonder where she gets that from,” Emmett mutters.
At least I think that’s what he says.
I’m too busy choking on the chocolate milk that’s gone sliding down the wrong tube.
Carter rambles on about a good meal being the only thing Becketts need to keep them happy, and while I’m gasping for air, my entire life flashes before my eyes, especially at the hard, suspicious gaze Adam watches me with.
If it’s my time to go, at least the dessert was orgasmic.
Lunchtime games on Saturdays are my favorite. I get my workout in extra early, hockey’s done before dinner, and we get a rare Saturday night off.
Emmett keeps labeling Cara’s twenty-sixth birthday party tonight as lowkey, but I’m not sure that word belongs in any sentence with Cara. I doubt there will be girls dancing on her kitchen counters like last year at the bar, so I guess that’s lowkey.
“How was your date this morning, bud?” I ask Adam as I drop to my knees beside him, spreading my thighs and stretching my groin. My morning skate went well, and getting back on the ice feels exceptionally good. Coach has me on limited ice time tonight to ease back in, but at least I’m playing. I’ve been wound tight from nine days without hockey, among other things. The arena is buzzing, the chill from the ice feels refreshing on my cheeks, and I’m not gonna look at Jennie the entire game. Nothing can go wrong.
Adam sighs. “She definitely doesn’t like dogs.”
“But she told you she did.”
“Well, I kinda wanted out at the end of breakfast.” He chuckles at my expression. “So I told her I had to head home to walk Bear before the game. She insisted on coming.”
“Dude. You’re too nice.”
“I didn’t have the heart to tell her no! She was pouting up at me, with these big fucking eyes…” He sighs as we climb back to our feet. “Bear jumped up to say hello before I could stop him. Licked her face. She, uh…lost her shit, to put it nicely. About the slobber, the hair…”
“Aw, c’mon.” Bear’s next level on the cute scale, a giant, furry suck. “She’s out, right?”
“If she hadn’t already been, she definitely would’ve been when she asked if he’d be around much longer.”
“Speaking of dates.” A spray of snow slashes my face and covers my visor as Jaxon Riley, our new defenseman, stops in front of me. He spares me an absent glance. “Andersen.”
“Riley.”
He’s already on my shitlist. To be honest, he’s been there for years. He’s an arrogant prick who shoots his mouth off nonstop. It gets him into a lot of trouble, hence why he’s been traded here from Nashville after his second suspension of the season. Coach thinks he can straighten him out and get the most out of him. We’ll see.
“Speaking of dates,” he repeats. “Who’s the rocket?”
I follow his gaze into the stands and reply on autopilot. “Cara and Olivia.”
“I know who they are. I’m talking about the one with the dimples and the killer rack.”
Yeah, I was hoping that wasn’t the case.
My eyes sweep over Jennie, sandwiched between Cara and Olivia. Between the three of them, they appear to have bought the entire snack bar.
Jennie looks alarmingly pretty today. Hair down instead of in one of her signature braids, her thick chestnut tresses roll in waves around her shoulders, highlighting her broad smile and deep dimples when she laughs. She’s also wearing a skintight tee that, as Jaxon mentioned, showcases her stellar rack. I bite my tongue to keep from bragging that I’ve tasted them.
Looking away, I nab a puck, spin around the net and stuff it behind Adam. “She’s off-limits.”
“Yours?”
“No.”
“Then I guess she’s not off-limits.” His grin is self-assured, and I can’t wait to wipe it off.
I smile back at him, extra megawatt. “Hey, Carter?” I call as he zooms by us, using his stick as a guitar. “What’s Jennie’s relationship status? Asking for a friend.”
“Nobody touches my baby sister.” It’s half scream, half song, and Jaxon’s face falls. “Oh hey.” Carter follows me to the bench and leans on his stick, popping a pink bubble in his mouth. “Speaking of Jennie. Can you ride home with her tonight? I don’t like the idea of her taking an Uber late at night by herself.”
My first thought is the backseat of a car late at night is the last place I should ever be with Jennie. My second is she’s a grown woman who’d likely lose her shit if she knew Carter was organizing supervised rides home for her. My third thought is—oh fuck.
“Your sister’s coming to the party tonight?”
Carter nods, and my pulse thunders.
“Why is Jennie coming?” I accidentally ask out loud as Emmett joins us.
He gestures to where the girls are cackling on about something. My eyes lock with Jennie’s before I immediately tear them away. “’Cause she’s one of Cara’s best friends?”
“Since when?” I stupidly demand rather than just saying, Sure, I’ll ride home with her.
“Uh, since Olivia and Carter started dating, and now the three of them spend all their time together?”
“Oh. Right.” Fuck. I look to Carter and start waving one floppy, gloved hand through the air. I might as well be holding a neon sign that reads I ate your sister’s pussy and liked it. “Um, I think I’m gonna…drive.” I wasn’t going to, but if Jennie’s gonna be there, I absolutely need to stay sober. I can’t have alcohol impeding any of my decision-making capabilities—which are already flawed and weak—because I’ll try to talk myself into a place I want to be but shouldn’t, like between her thighs while I locate her G-spot with the tip of my tongue, or my cock. Plus, Jennie doesn’t drink, and being supportive of that feels like the right move in our fucked-up friendship.