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“You know her, she doesn’t show up until the day before classes start. Diana’s in town, though.”
“Cool. Bring ’er to the party.”
I lift a brow. “Are you inviting any of the new guys?”
“The fuck do you think?”
“I take that as a no.”
“Of course it’s a no. That would be rubbing salt in Miller’s wounds.”
The waitress arrives with our food. After we thank her, Will takes a bite of his cheeseburger, chewing for what seems like forever.
When he speaks again, I realize he was trying to find the most nonchalant way to ask his next question.
“So what’s going on with you and CC?”
His attempt at nonchalance fails horribly.
Laughing, I pop a french fry in my mouth. “And there it is.”
“What?”
“The Case interrogation. What, you think I really believed you just called me up out of the blue and invited me to lunch?”
“We have lunch together all the time,” protests Will.
“Sure, but this particular lunch just happens to fall the day after I tell Case we’re not getting back together? Very suspicious.”
“Purely coincidence.” He winks at me.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”
“I swear.”
He takes another bite of his burger and chews extra slow again. He watches me, waiting for me to fill the silence. But I don’t. I simply munch on my fries and pretend not to notice his growing impatience.
“Okay, you gotta give me something here,” he blurts out. “What the hell am I supposed to tell my boy?”
“Ha, I knew it! He totally put you up to this.”
“Come on, you know he’s sorry, G. He feels like total shit about everything.”
I swallow my growing frustration. “I know you’re only looking out for him, but can we please change the subject?”
I search the table for ketchup and realize the waitress forgot to bring it. Instead of trying to flag her down, I take advantage of the perfect way out of this conversation.
I rise from my chair. “Just gonna grab some ketchup from the counter.”
I’m so focused on placing distance between me and Will’s questions that I don’t pay attention to my surroundings. I reach the counter at a brisk pace and slam into none other than Luke Ryder.
CHAPTER FIVE
RYDER
Carma with a C
GARRETT GRAHAM’S DAUGHTER IS HOT. SHE WAS HOT WHEN I met her six years ago, and she’s even hotter now. Her eyes widen after she bodychecks me. Big gray eyes, reminiscent of an overcast sky. But they’re not muted or plain. They’re vibrant, as if that sky is crackling with electricity in anticipation of thunder and lightning.
Her long brown hair is arranged in a side braid that falls over one slender shoulder. She tucks a loose strand that’s fallen out of her braid behind her ear. Recovering from her surprise, she gives me a half smile.
“Hey,” she says.
I lift a brow. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to work up the nerve to talk to me.”
Gigi rolls her eyes at me. “I didn’t need to gather my courage. Just haven’t had an opportunity.”
That’s bullshit. We passed each other in the corridor outside the locker rooms this morning, and she barely acknowledged me. Granted, she was with one of her coaches, but she totally saw me. I also find it interesting that although the women’s practice schedule hasn’t even been set yet, Gigi still wakes up at ungodly hours to skate and run her own private drills. She did the same thing at the camp she helped her father run.
“Anyway, I’m pretty sure I said hi to you in the hall today,” she points out.
“You nodded.”
“That’s the same thing as hi.”
“Is it?” I mock.
“I don’t know.” She sounds frazzled. “Why do you care so much if I greet you properly?”
“I don’t care in the slightest.”
“Then why did you bring it up?”
“I’m already regretting it.”
She stares at me. “I forgot how magical your personality is.”
Sighing, I head for the other end of the counter, where I was instructed to wait for my food. I’m picking up takeout for me and the guys. We could’ve had it delivered, but it’s a nice day, so I decided to walk. Well, originally I planned to drive, but my Jeep’s been making some concerning clunking noises lately. It was already on its last legs back in Eastwood, but sometime during the two-hour drive to Hastings, it also decided it didn’t feel like accelerating when I shifted gears. Swear to God, if the transmission’s going, I’m going to be pissed. I can’t afford to get it fixed right now.
Gigi requests a bottle of ketchup from the teenage girl at the counter. While she waits, she looks over at me. “I hear it’s not going well at practice.”
I smirk. “Going pretty well for me. I’m cocaptain.”
“Cocaptain of a team in shambles. Impressive.” She smiles sweetly.
“Here you go, hon.” The girl returns and holds out a glass ketchup bottle to Gigi.
