“I could say a great many things about you right now, Raf. But since we’re in polite company, I’ll bite my tongue. It’s nice to meet you, Tori. If this asshole doesn’t treat you right, you come find us, okay?” He cracks his knuckles, but he’s grinning at me.
Raffi isn’t even blushing. There’s no way his friends don’t know we’re here to have sex, and he’s just taking it in his stride, cool as a cucumber.
As we head to Raffi’s room, we pass Tate on the stairs. “Hey, jersey girl. Can you give me your friend’s number? The one with the Flames shirt?”
Folding my arms, I give him my best mean mug. “That’s not how we do things, Mr. Myers. You want her number, you should really ask her for it.”
“But I’m playing on the ice while she’s in the stands. If I go out looking for her, that’s stalking, and stalking’s illegal.” He laughs. “Unless you’re Ares.”
I laugh with him. When Ares was trying to convince Eloise to date him, he left packets of hot chocolate wherever she went. It was romantic, low-key stalking, but the guy has a point.
“Fine.” I plant my hands on my hips. “I’ll ask her if you can have her number. But if you hurt her I’ll slice your throat.”
The color drains from his face as he attempts to take a step back on the stairs. “Vicious. What’s your damage?”
“Shitty, cheating, hockey-playing ex. What’s yours?” I jut my chin out at him.
He holds his hands up. “Damn. Okay, you win. But we aren’t all shitty, cheating fuckers, okay? I’d never…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been cheated on, and it’s awful. I’d like to take your friend out for a drink, or dinner, or something, that’s all. Okay, fine, maybe give her a shirt that isn’t our opposition’s too.”
I really need to ask what her deal is. That’s two games she’s worn shirts that aren’t the home team’s.
“Well, that one’s going to be tricky. Eloise and I tried to give her a new shirt, but she wasn’t into it.”
“Edith’s tried too.” Apollo crunches into an apple behind us on the stairs, and we all turn to look at him. “You’re talking about her friend, Penelope, right? Always wears shirts from the opposing teams? She’ll never change. She’s totally trolling us.” He smirks at Tate. “Good luck with that one, buddy. If Tori won’t give you her number, I can ask Edith for you.”
“She’s the one who was in the crash with you, right?” I’m not great with names, but I’m pretty sure that’s who he’s talking about. Eloise says she’s recovering from surgery on her leg, but she bets she’ll be right here with us once she gets better.
Apollo nods.
“She’ll respect Girl Code, even from down under.” I’ve chatted to Eloise about Edith, and even though she doesn’t know her all that well, she adores her.
“What’s a hockey player gotta do to get a beautiful girl’s number?” Tate smacks his thighs with both hands, blowing out a sigh of dejection.
“You’ll get the girl, bud. You just have to work at it like the rest of us.” Apollo pats his chest as he turns to head back downstairs. Did he just come up to chitchat?
“I’ll talk to Penelope, see what she says.”
Tate’s face is turning an adorable shade of embarrassed. “Thanks.” He follows Apollo downstairs. “You kids be safe.”
There’s no chance he knows what he’s said, but Raffi cracks up into hysterical laughter, which results in a wicked dose of the hiccups.
“You didn’t say anything at all on the stairs,” I mention.
His room is sparse—light blue walls, a picture of his parents on the small desk next to the window, and a framed hockey jersey hanging on the wall next to the door to the bathroom.
I climb onto his bed and scooch all the way into the corner.
“I don’t need to speak for you with my friends. You can handle yourself.” He shrugs, pulling up a swivel office chair next to the bed.
The fact he hasn’t assumed I’m going to bone him and jumped right up onto the bed next to me is so fucking hot. He’s also not wrong.
I text Penelope, asking if I can give Tate her number. He seems sweet, and pretty determined to work for it, so the least I can do is ask if she’s into him.
When I tuck my phone away, Raffi’s eyes linger heavily on my face. “You back with me now?”
I barely get to nod before he slides my phone out of my pocket and puts it on his desk. “I really want to kiss you. But I don’t want to assume.”
Patting the bed beside me, I beckon him over. “No assuming. I most definitely want in your pants. Not sure it’s my smartest idea ever. But?—”
