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He just laughs.
CHAPTER 3
Alexsei
Luna Fucking McNeill is in the elevator in my building on the way to my apartment.
Finally.
I really did believe we’d get here, eventually, but damn, this was faster than expected. And easier. Not that I think she’s easy. She actually has not-easy-don’t-even-try-it written all over her.
But that’s the thing. I have not forgotten for a second that the person who actually got her here is Cameron. Cameron never shies away from a challenge. Cameron sees, don’t-even-try-it and gets that fucking-bring-it look in his eye and the thing—or person—doesn’t stand a chance.
He looks like a nerd. Sure, a rich, well-dressed, I-don’t-give-a-fuck nerd, but still a nerd. But this nerd is worth several million dollars and, well, he really doesn’t give a fuck.
And he’s my best fucking friend. I’m staring at the perfect, petite, blond proof of it right now. He acts like he doesn’t listen to me when I go on and on about the things I get excited about. A new sub shop. A new TV show. A new Reddit forum. An amazing, gorgeous girl.
But he does. He listens. And he got Luna into our apartment tonight.
I sneak a look at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s leaning against the back wall of the elevator, scrolling on her phone as if we’re in an office building on our way up to start our day in our cubicles.
But we’re not.
We’re on our way up to our apartment. For sex.
I feel like it’s my birthday. Or Christmas morning. Or the day I found out I'd been drafted to the pros. Or all three rolled into one.
Except none of those involved a naked woman. Okay, maybe the night I was drafted did.
But none of them involved Luna McNeill.
I barely know this woman, but I know she's gorgeous, sassy, smart, and funny.
I don't typically go for sassy, but I've had women that are all of those other things, and there's just something about Luna that feels different.
I think, maybe, weirdly, it's that she's not all that impressed with me. Or professional athletes. Or hockey players. Or maybe most guys in general.
Which is why her leaning against the elevator, scrolling on her phone, as Cam and I are taking her home to fuck her all night, seems very in character.
I’m used to puck bunnies. I can admit it. As far back as high school, I had girls interested because I’m cute and because I’m downright magical on the ice. Not my words, but more than one person has used them to describe my play.
Luna doesn’t care.
And that makes me want to be magical to her in some other way.
And I will never say that out loud to anyone. Ever.
Luna's brother Crew, is our new all-star, everyone’s-talking-about-him, high-scoring player. Luna's grown up around hockey. Good hockey. Which means she's grown up around good hockey players. She knows how we tick. If she wanted to date a hockey player, she'd be dating a hockey player.
So the fact that she's with me right now, feels like something special.
And as the elevator stops on the top floor and the doors swish open and Cam rests his hand on her lower back, escorting her into our apartment, I try not to think too hard about the fact that she might be here because of my roommate.
Maybe I'm the tagalong. The side dish. Maybe she's here for Cameron and I just happened to come in this package deal.
I shut those thoughts down. It doesn’t matter. She’s here and there’s something else I really love about my best friend and roommate—when it comes to me, he’s very generous.
"Do you want a drink or something?" I ask her.
