A notification pops up, distracting me.
Whirlwind: Thank you. I’m nervous, in case you couldn’t tell.
Cole: Oh, really? Wouldn’t have noticed. You have no reason to be, though. You’re going to blow his socks off.
Whirlwind: I’d prefer if they stayed on, tbh.
Cole: Not a foot girl?
My lips twitch as I try to imagine her reaction to that question.
Whirlwind: Not particularly. I’d just rather he keep all his clothes on tonight.
Her anxiety bleeds through the phone. I pray that he’s a decent human being who will respect her wishes to take this slow. If he isn’t…My knuckles crack as I make a fist with my right hand.
Before I can think better of it, I’m messaging her back, asking where they’re meeting.
She offers up the information without any thought before she’s forced to end our conversation so she can leave. I guess I achieved one thing: she hasn’t changed.
Which may or may not be a mistake.
I scroll up to the photo once again.
Goddamn, my chef is hot.
“Have you been here before?”Killer asks as he, Rett, Monroe and I step inside the restaurant of my choosing tonight.
“Nope. But I’ve seen great reviews,” I explain.
“What happened to Freya?” Monroe asks.
“She’s got the night off,” I say, hoping it sounds believable.
“And she didn’t leave you food?”
“Oh…uh…she did. I just?—”
“You nuked it, didn’t you?” Killer says, more than aware of my horrendous skills in the kitchen.
“How much do I need to pay you not to mention any of this to Freya?” I ask, making Killer and Monroe laugh. Rett’s lips might twitch the smallest amount, but anyone standing farther away than\ me would need a magnifying glass to see it. Rett Donnelly is quite possibly the grumpiest motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. And from what I’ve heard, he’s a million times happier here than he was in Seattle. I can only imagine what it was like trying to exist with him up there. Thankfully, though, he’s one of the best D men in the league, and it’s an honor to have him standing before me, protecting the crease.
“Let’s see how good the food really is, and then we’ll come back to you.” Killer laughs as I step up to the host and give him my name—not that it’s necessary; his wide eyes tell me he knows exactly who we are.
He rambles about how much he loves the Vipers and how excited he is about the season we’re having as he leads us to a table at the back of the restaurant, like I requested. While I might hear his words, I don’t respond; I’m too busy scanning the restaurant for the real reason I’m here.
When I don’t immediately find her, I start to think that she bailed on her date at the last minute. As much as I hate the idea of her spending the night sitting opposite another man, I really hope she didn’t let her anxiety over tonight win.
“What do you think?”
My eyes dart between the tables, desperate to see her sitting at one, looking like a knockout and making the man opposite her drool.
“Handsy?”
Where are you?
“Handsy?”
Finally, my eyes land on the farthest table away, and all my concerns are silenced.
