He huffs as he stabs a carrot with his fork.
“I don’t want to be,” he confesses quietly. “I want to be wild and…and well, like you guys.”
“You don’t need to be like anyone else. You’re you, not us, Hayden,” Killer says, sounding a little too wise for my liking.
“I just…the girls I like always want to be my friend. I think it’s because of my sister. We’ve grown up so close. I always feel like the gay best friend. The girls want to make me their BFF, not fuck me.”
“Am I hearing that Monroe has woman problems?” Linc asks as he joins us.
“I’m not sure it can be classed as women problems if there is no woman,” Monroe mutters as he focuses on his food.
“There are always women, Monroe. Did you wake up this morning and forget who you are? You’re Hayden Fucking Monroe, the LA Vipers’ rookie D man. You step out onto that ice multiple times a week with women screaming your name and begging for you to take them home.”
Monroe hmphs but doesn’t say anything.
“Wait…” Linc says, studying our rookie closely. “Are we talking about women in general, or is there one woman who’s causing you issues?”
“Oh, listen to Storm. He settles himself down, and now he’s the expert,” Killer teases.
“Parker will confidently tell you that I’m no expert,” Linc confesses before turning back to Monroe.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid anyway. I don’t have time for a woman, casual or not.”
“Bro, there is always time for women. Depending on your skill level, you might only need ten minutes,” Rett deadpans.
Killer scoffs. “Ten minutes. How much are you paying these women to sell the stories they do if you only last that long?”
“Fuck off. I’m not talking about myself. But how old is our rookie? He can’t last much longer than that.”
I glance at Monroe to find his cheeks are glowing almost as bright as Freya’s do when she speaks before she thinks and says something entirely inappropriate but totally endearing.
Their questionable advice and banter continue as we eat our lunch, and as time goes on, Monroe relaxes a little. I can’t help but think that Linc is onto something. This seems bigger than figuring out how to hook up with a bunny. There’s a woman. Our little rookie has a crush. If I didn’t have enough of my own shit to think about, I might attempt to figure out who it is. Because I have no doubt it’s someone we all know. None of us spends enough time anywhere else to be twisted up as much as he seems to be.
My cell buzzes on the table, and I tune them all out and wake it up. The second I see a message from Freya, my surroundings vanish as I quickly tap on the notification.
A laugh spills out of me at the video of a dog who appears to be talking.
“I’m sorry, are we boring you?” Rett asks.
I don’t look up immediately, but I don’t have a choice when Killer kicks me under the table.
“Please ignore him; he’s talking to Freya.”
“Oooh,” Linc sings like an asshole. “That’s all going well then, I take it.”
“He’s buying her a car,” Killer shares. “I think it might be going a bit too well.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” I bark.
“Buying her a car? That’s serious,” Linc points out.
“It’s not a diamond ring.” I scoff. “It’s a car to ensure she can get to work on time.”
“Uh-huh,” Rett mumbles.
“Whatever,” I mutter, before shoving my chair back, gathering up my empty plates, and stalking away.
“He really needs to fuck her,” I hear Rett say before I’m out of earshot. My grip on my tray tenses with my need to go back and show him what I really think of his comments. But I know it’ll only make this situation worse.
