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“You guys know it’s teams of four, right?” Clayton asks.
I didn’t. No rules announcements have been made since I arrived. Last time I was here, there was no trivia-playing. We mostly just flirted with college guys so they’d buy the drinks and we wouldn’t have to worry about getting carded.
But Isla smirks and nods. “Is that your way of begging for a spot on our team?”
“I don’t know aboutbegging, but I’m definitely interested.” A second elbow lands on our table as he makes himself comfortable, the innuendo impossible to miss.
The waitress returns with our drinks, and I quickly pick up my beer glass to hide my smirk as Isla and Clayton continue to flirt.
More things I’ve missed, being out with a friend and banter with a cute guy. Easy, simple fun.
“Hey, Clayton,” the waitress says.
“Hey.” He gives her a nod, but his attention stays on Isla.
I get player vibes from him—in both senses of the word—but he doesn’t seem like a douche. If I could do so inconspicuously, I’d flash Isla a thumbs-up.
By the time the waitress leaves, Clayton has taken a seat at our table. He’s on the basketball team, so I pegged him right as an athlete. Or was on the team, rather—he’s a senior and their season just ended.
“I went to a basketball game sophomore year,” Isla tells him.
“And it was such a great experience you never went to another one?” he asks.
She takes a sip of her beer, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m not a huge sports fan.”
“Ri-ght,” Clayton drawls. “Suppose you’ve never seen a hockey game, then?”
Isla blushes bright red. “All my friends like to go to those,” she tells him. “It wouldn’t have been my first choice.” She glances at me. “Rylan’s dad coaches the team.”
“Really?” Clayton’s attention lands on me for the first time since he came over.
Maybe I should be offended he’s basically ignored me, but I’m not. I might be looking for fun, which Clayton has written all over him, but there’s no spark between us. I think he’s attractive, but there are no butterflies. No prickle of awareness from having his eyes on me.
I nod. “Yeah.”
I wish Isla hadn’t mentioned it, but I’m not going to deny it. She’s probably used to our younger days, when my dad’s job was just common knowledge. A known fact. I doubt she’s consideredthe dynamics I’ve worried about since transferring, especially right now, when the spotlight on the hockey team is extra bright. I don’t want anyone to treat me any differently—either better or worse—because of who my dad is.
“That’s awesome,” Clayton says. “The hockey guys always rave about Coach Keller. Almost make me wish I’d kept the skates on after middle school.”
I smile, relieved by his response. “He loves his job.”
“Trivia starting in five minutes,” a guy who looks to be in his late twenties shouts from the corner. He’s wearing a ball cap that hasGaffney’swritten on it.
“We need a fourth player,” Clayton says. “I can go see if—”
“I’ll play,” a male voice volunteers. Afamiliarmale voice.
Immediately, I stiffen, stripped of all ease. I’m hyperaware of nothing I was concerned about a second ago—my posture, my makeup, my hair, my outfit.
The way it looks like I’m third-wheeling.
“Phillips! Hey!” Clayton sounds thrilled to see Aidan.
I’m not surprised to learn Aidan and Clayton know each other. Aside from Clayton just mentioning he knows guys on the hockey team, they’re similar. Both popular winter athletes who are seniors.
So Aidan’s flat “Thomas” confuses me.
I’ve never heard him sound so abrupt and unfriendly.
