“I think, yeah. Unfortunately, that’s probably one aspect where they aren’t too far off from reality. Still.”
He half snorts. “Wait, are you telling me the ludicrously hot rivals-to-lovers locker room sex scenesaren’ttrue to life?”
My face heats. Fortunately, now we get to the part of the video I really wanted to show him. “Oh, look.”
On the screen, Doherty is interviewing Gavin West between periods.
“This is your first year wearing the C, along with Luke Morgan for Holy Heart. And it looks like they might give you some trouble this season. Got any words you'd like me to pass along to your opposing captain, Gavin?”
Gavin looks very seriously into the camera. He swallows hard. “Watch out, 'cause I'm coming for you, Morgan.”
Dash cracks up. “He's about as menacing as a golden retriever, isn't he?”
“Yeah, kind of. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is.”
The video cuts to a clip of Doherty interviewing Luke Morgan. “The Green Mountain captain says he's coming for you. What do you have to say to that?”
Morgan, much more effectively, locks eyes with the lens. “Bring it,” he smolders.
“And there you have it, folks?—”
I stop the video. Dash shakes his head. “Is it wrong that I'm shipping them already?”
I laugh, but secretly? I'm a little relieved because I had that thought too, even though there is zero indication either of these guys—or any of the Stags or Pine Martens for that matter—are playing for our team. “Maybe we've both been reading too much MM hockey romance?”
“Probably,” he admits, scooting back to his side of the table and tucking back into his sandwich, “But you saw that game. You have to admit, there was a certain chemistry there. If it wasn't two straight dudes in a bunch of padding, I might have considered that foreplay.”
I can’t quite look at him, so I pick at my sandwich.
“So you’ve been reading the books?”
“Oh, yeah. I started this series that takes place at a college where somehow basically the whole team is gay. It's putting a serious dent in my homework time. If I flunk out this semester, I'm going to blame you.”
He winks, and I just about swoon, but I try to cover it by focusing on my food.
CHAPTER 9
CALEB
We takeour time walking back to the shuttle bus, slowing as we make our way along the sidewalk to look at some of the outdoor shop displays. Dash tries on a vintage sport coat that looks so good on him I have to force myself not to stare. But when he looks at the price tag, he starts to put it back. I make him model it for a photo, though, for “posterity.” (And so I have an excuse to have a pic of Dash on my phone. Sue me.)
When we come to the tables outside the bookstore, one piled high with romance novels, he insists on stopping so I can browse.
“No, it's fine. I don't need to.”
“They might have something you'd like.”
“Probably not.”
“Well,” he announces, “I’mgoing to see what kind of drama section they have. So you’re just going to have to wait for me. What you choose to do with that time is up to you.”
He starts to saunter off into the store, but then, absolutely without intending to, I call after him, “Dash Dalton, are you grand gesturing me?” I immediately want to slap my hand over my stupid mouth.
But it's too late. He's standing in the doorway of the bookshop, giving me a quizzical look.
“Never mind,” I say in a rush. “Forget I?—”
