“You shared your sandwiches with me.”
The server places our drinks between us, and Raffi’salready got half his water drunk before she’s done putting the glasses on the table.
“You mentioned that when we had pie. Are you sure? Sharing food’s not normally my jam.” He stares at me like I told him the earth is flat.
“You gave me a sandwich from your backpack when we were in lock up together.” I’m trying too hard to ignore the hammering in my chest and the zips of electricity from his foot brushing against my calf. The most important thing in the entire universe right now is where his body is touching mine.
He scrunches up his face, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t share food.”
I wag a finger at him. “You did. Even gave me your secret to the perfect PB&J.”
He gasps theatrically, a hand flailing to his face. “No way. You must have been special.”
My gaze drifts to the floor. He made me feel special and then disappeared for years, so I don’t know where we’re at with that, or how his statement makes me feel inside.
A knuckle lands under my chin, turning my head so I look at him. “You are special.”
That fucking lump is back in my throat. The pad of his thumb sweeps over the apple of my cheek and my eyes drift closed. It’s so easy to get caught up in this guy, his charisma, his smile, the warmth of his voice and his fingers.
By the time I’ve waded through a fraction of the food the server puts in front of me, my ribs hurt from laughing. I’ve realized why Raffi won’t step down from hockey.
It’s clear to see in everything he says. He’s told me about how Ares got their team mascot, a pig called Bacon, who is such an epic diva. He told me about the team rallying to rescue Taryn’s stuff from her cheating ex. She’s one of my favorite baristas from Bitches Brew and apparently her ex heldall her shit hostage until the team went over and intimidated the shit out of him to give it back.
He makes it sound like the best family in the world to be part of. I don’t really blame him for not wanting to let them down or step back at all. His only brother lives in a different country, and he’s lonely. He wants to feel needed.
But the more he talks about hockey, the less it seems like it’s his dream. From what he tells me, his parents have placed their hopes and dreams of having a superstar hockey player on his shoulders. It’s because he loves his team so damn much he’s afraid he’ll lose his family—blood and found—if he does.
The pressure must be crushing. To have his degree tied to his performance on the ice adds an added layer of complexity I wasn’t expecting either. It doesn’t feel fair, and yet, he knew when he was signing up that he needed to maintain certain grades to keep his place on the ice, and he needed to play at a certain level to not get benched.
How he’s not permanently bent under the weight of expectations on his shoulders is anyone’s guess.
“Do you have time? Or do you have to get back?” There’s a hope in his voice that mirrors my own. I’m not ready for our date to end.
“What are you thinking?”
He slurps at the bottom of his pop before answering. “Dessert.”
CHAPTER 24
Raffi
I’m walking on air as we make our way back to Apollo’s SUV in the parking lot. So much so that I take my life in my hands and pull my firecracker flush against my chest and start singing at her.
Under my Skin by Nate Smith is the first song that comes to mind, and I croon it softly while we shuffle back and forth.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She’s clearly never been romanced, and that’s so far from being okay. She’s the mother of my kid. Sure, I’ve been an unknowingly absent father for the first two years of the kid’s life, but that’s about to change.
At the end of the day, she carried him, birthed him, and took care of him at great personal cost. She told me over dinner that she changed her degree to go into something that would set her up for a quicker income than what she originally planned to do.
While she was in the bathroom I messaged Apollo and asked him if there are any paid photography gigs going either for the team or any of his family businesses. She’ll kill me if she ever finds out I asked, but it’s the least I can do.
“I’m dancing with you in the parking lot, Firecracker.”
“But someone might see.” She glances over her shoulder, and I can’t stop the chuckle rumbling through my chest.
“You’re fine being fingered next to my car in the parking lot, but heaven forbid someone sees us dancing like this?”
