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"Okay, but I have to work with Sam, and I don't want to lead him on. I'd only be asking him to make Chase jealous." Seriously, this is a horrible idea. Sam already asked me out once, to which I politely declined on the basis of professionalism. Asking him to my brother's wedding so I can use him as a weapon to incite jealousy is just mean.
"Then tell him the truth and ask him to do you a solid. Tell him you just need some arm candy." Riley is nuts, but she's also an evil genius, and it might just work. "You're allowed to bring a plus-one."
"You're my plus one."
"No, I'm a guest. So technically, we're both allowed a plus-one. I'll call the resort and change our reservation to two rooms. Your brother has the whole damn place booked, so it's not like it will be an issue. We can give Sam his own room, and you and I can still bunk together. Unless—"
"There won't be an unless.” I roll my eyes.
I grab my yogurt and coffee and leave Riley to her smutty book and scheming. The whole way to work, I mull over her idea. It does have merit. I've seen Chase's jealous side, and it's delicious.
By the time I'm pulling out my arena fob, I like the idea even more, but I'm hesitant to ask this of Sam. We've established a good work relationship and I don't want to ruin it.
"Hey there, Shortcake," Sam greets me as I walk into our office. When you're surrounded by tall-ass hockey players and other vertically enhanced people, I guess you're forever doomed to inherit nicknames that make you feel short. Sam is pretty tall and it makes our office seem smaller when he's in it. His size is much more reasonable when we're collaborating in the kitchen. Over the last few weeks, we've conquered a month's worth of meal plans. Some of the menus I'll be preparing, and the others are for players to take home and try for themselves—god help them.
I have to admit, our workspace is pretty sweet. We have a cozy office with brand-new Mac desktops where we do meal planning and research, plus a massive kitchen where the magic happens. Most of our time is spent reviewing menu options and player files. Each player filled out an extensive form detailing likes, dislikes, allergies, and a bunch of other questions that will help me better understand what type of tasting palette each player has.
The next few hours are spent going through ingredient lists and order forms. We need food delivered for training camp, or else I'll have an arena full of hangry hockey players. I go through a checklist and order a few extra things in case I want to do something creative last minute that's not on the menu.
Sam and I discuss putting together a presentation for the players outlining essential nutrition and the dos and don'ts for eating before and after games. You'd be surprised how many athletes don't know the correct way to fuel and replenish their bodies after a strenuous workout.
Hockey players literally sweat out pounds of water weight during a game, especially goalies. And during the playoffs, when games can go into several overtime periods, players end up stuffing their faces with weird shit during intermissions to keep their bodies going. Last playoffs, one goalie looked like he had just returned from playing Survivor after winning a game in quadruple overtime. He lost twenty pounds of water weight in one game. Other players were pounding protein bars and squirting mustard directly into their mouths to replenish lost electrolytes. Disgusting. I enjoy a good protein bar, but mustard? No thanks.
"So, any big plan for your last weekend of freedom before all hell breaks loose?" Sam asks, leaning back in his chair and smiling. He has a great smile. Nice, white teeth and very genuine. Why couldn't I fall for a guy like him? He's perfect. Except for the fact that he doesn't give me the butterflies or buzz of electricity I feel around Chase.
"It's my brother's wedding weekend. We're all headed up to the Rosseau Resort after work today. Holly and Luke are already up there enjoying some pre-wedding alone time." They left on Monday to go over the final details and do coupley things that I have no interest in knowing about.
"That's right, the big Valentine-Sparks union. Knowing what I know of your brother, it sounds like it will be pretty good shindig."
I laugh. Luke does like a good party. Sam chuckles too, and I can't help but glance sidelong at him and wonder about Riley's idea. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Do you have any big plans?" I ask.
"Naw. I'll probably just chill out and catch up on some TV shows." I nod at him, fiddling with the pen in my hand.
"We're friends, right?" I blurt out and immediately feel like an idiot.
"I think so," Sam says, lips tilting upwards in a playful grin.
"Okay, well, can I run something by you?"
"Shoot."
"And you can tell me if I'm out of line because I know you asked me out, and I said we should just be friends, and I mentioned there was someone else." I ramble a little and take another breath while Sam waits patiently for me to continue, interest painting his gaze.
"Well, this someone is going to be at the wedding, and my friend Riley got this crazy idea in her head that I should bring you as my date to make him jealous. Because, I mean, I'm sure you know this, but you're pretty nice to look at. But I don't want to put you in an awkward situation or ruin what we have going on here. Maybe this is a terrible idea, but—"
"Lily," Sam interrupts me, putting a hand over mine. He chuckles again, and I blush. "It's not a crazy idea. Your friend sounds quite brilliant. If I were this other man, seeing you on someone else's arm would make me wild with jealousy."
"It would?"
"It would."
"So you'll come?" I squeak, pretty sure my eyes are wide as saucers.
"Yes, I'll come on two conditions." His intensely blue eyes stare into mine as he grins. He really is handsome.
"Anything," I breathe.
