“I take full responsibility for not telling you about Zeke,” I say, making it clear I’m not blaming them. I was just trying to explain why he’s not living with me and I’m in the dorms.
He huffs under his breath, ignoring me once again.
Silence fills the car. He reaches for the radio, deciding for himself that we’re done talking.
As he pulls up to the quad and parks outside the dorms, he barely glances at me. He reaches into the backseat and retrieves my bag, handing it to me.
I step out of the vehicle, grab my bag from his hands, my fingers grazing his briefly. I stare at him, but he won’t meet my gaze.
I guess we’re not going on that date tomorrow if he won’t even look at me, let alone speak to me. “Good luck at practice.” I remember him telling his parents he had hockey practice tomorrow.
“See you in class,” he says, and I feel like we’ve just broken up after a huge fight. Except we weren’t dating.
We aren’t technically anything, and yet we’re engaged.
Two
Ashton
What a colossal fuck-up. What was supposed to be a get-together for Nova’s birthday transpired into me getting orders to shoot my best friend and teammate, along with his fake girlfriend.
I lie back on the sofa, stretching out, drinking a beer.
I crave something to take my mind off what the hell went down this weekend. Thankfully, I was able to high-tail it out before their little family dinner.
I wanted zero involvement in the Ricci dinner dynamics. It doesn’t take a genius to see that hell was going to be unleashed on Luca and Harper.
I actually like Luca. As a friend, he’s great company and loyal, and as a roommate, he keeps his shit tidy. As a teammate, well, I know I can depend on him on the ice.
But having his father give me orders to kill my friend if Luca didn’t kill Harper, well, that was some next-level fucked-up drama.
I’d have done it, because my old man, Aureilo, and Dante are friends, but I’m not thrilled about what was asked of me.
Luca should be home soon, assuming his father didn’t murder him, no exaggeration.
I flip through the channels on our streaming app and nurse a beer.
It’s Saturday night, getting late, but I should be out at a party, not replaying the night’s events over in my head.
What a shitshow.
The front door squeaks open, and I glance over my shoulder.
Turns out Luca Ricci is still alive.
“I guess I’m not taking your position on the ice.”
“Dark sarcasm, that’s cute, but I’m not in the mood.” Luca’s voice reeks of annoyance and anger.
He’s usually so levelheaded, except when it comes to Harper McKenna.
I sit up on the sofa, toss my legs over the side and glance at him, intrigued. “Your little engagement not going according to plan?” I smirk, knowing it’ll piss him off. I can just feel the rage boiling off of him.
“No thanks to you,” Luca growls at me and tosses his duffel bag on the floor. He drops his coat and shoes with it.
He’s usually a bit tidier, but I just take another drink from my beer bottle and watch him cautiously. “Dinner went well, I take it.”
He flips me off and storms into the kitchen, hitting the light switch on the wall. He opens and shuts the fridge repeatedly before banging around with the pots and pans.
