“And how doyouknow the Wild Leopard’s a strip club?” Aidan drawled softly but pointedly.
Levi just laughed though. “Babe, it’s called theWild Leopardand it’s somewhere Jordan went. Not very difficult to put two and two together and get four.”
Yes,Nate thought,let’s talk about Jordan and his affinity for trashy strip clubs instead.
But then Wes piped up. “You took Ramsey to a strip club? A strip club withwomen?”
The cat was out of the bag now.
Levi catcalled. Mo shot him a knowing look. Lane exclaimed, “Are you fucking serious?”
And okay, that was fair.
“You took the hot hockey player out?” Dawson asked.
Nate flushed. “I didn’t take him out.”
“Kinda seems like you did,” Dawson pointed out.
“We stayed in, until . . .” Nate glanced over towards Jordan’s locker. “Untilsome peopledecided it was a good idea to cry wolf and fuck up the mood.”
“Oooooh,” Levi chimed in. “There was a mood to ruin?”
Just tell them the truth. Whether it was intended to be real or not, it felt damn real.
“Fuck yeah there was.” It wasn’t a lie. He’d been looking forward to watching the third period of the hockey game with Ramsey, even if it was a hockey game. Frankly, he’d probably have been willing to watch a spelling bee if it meant Ramsey was next to him, his warm calloused hand fitting so perfectly in his, offering all his unexpectedly humorous, pointed analysis.
“Wow,” Lane said. “You finally melted the ice king?”
“He’s not cold,” Nate complained. He’d never been cold to Nate, even if Nate had been shitty to him. Turning Lane down, which Nate had most certainly noted with interest, did not make Ramsey icy or cold.
“Yeah, you’re a little bitter, bro,” Trevor chimed in.
“Fuck you,” Lane retorted fondly, glancing over at him.
“Ew,” Trevor said, but he didn’t sound as convincing as he should be.
Nate internally sighed, wondering whenthatwas going to hit the fan—but then, even when it did, it wouldthankfullybe Aidan’s problem, not his.
He had his own hands full, with Jordan.
“I thought you didn’t like the hot hockey player.” Dawson was clearly not going to let this go.
“Maybe he was just bitter the act wasn’t getting him anywhere,” Levi said, chuckling under his breath.
“Obviously that’s not it,” Nate said. He told himself Ramsey wouldn’t be mad if he sold this. That was the whole point, right? “Because he was onmycouch last night.”
A chorus ofoooohsechoed through the locker room. “Get it,” Mo called out.
“And maybe,” Nate added, mentally apologizing to Dawson, who’d only had eyes for the rookie punter, anyway, “he wasn’t interested in you because you kept referring to him as the hot hockey player.”
But Dawson seemed completely unbothered. “Fair,” he said. He exchanged a knowing glance with Cam. Clearly neither of them were too upset about Dawson striking out with Ramsey—if he’d ever tried, at all. Nate wasn’t sure he even had.
“So this is what, serious?” Lane asked.
Nate felt the question on the back of his tongue, bittersweet.
Forced himself to shrug, making the movement easy and casual. “We’re just having a good time.”
