I bite my lip, enjoying watching him work through his suspicions. “And you think you could score me?”
He pauses, gaze flickering between my mouth and my eyes. “It’s no secret by now I want to, baby.”
Tingles spread across my skin in a rush. I gulp my drink to hide my reaction.
“It wasn’t a guy. My roommate invited me. There she is.” I point Reagan out across the room as she laughs, leaning into the guy sliding an arm around her.
The tense set of Easton’s shoulders relaxes. “Oh. Reagan’s your roommate?”
“Since freshman year. Sorry. Best friend trumps anything else every time.”
“Fair.” He chuckles, brushing his arm against mine as he angles his head lower to talk near my ear. “At least I don’t have to go fight someone else for trying to get with you.”
A shiver flies down my spine. It’s followed by a pulse of heat that has me pressing my thighs together at the thought of him in a fight over me.
I take another sip of my drink to give myself a moment to recover.
He leans against the wall, bracing his legs at a wider stance so he’s not towering over me as much. Amused, I mirror him, resting my back against the wall beside him, crossing one leg over the other at the ankles. The corner of his mouth lifts.
“So if you know Reagan, how come I haven’t seen you around The Landmark before that night we played your brother?”
“I don’t know,” I reply airily. “I avoid places that involve hockey players unless I know they won’t be there. Plus, I’ve been a little more preoccupied with studying my ass off. How come I haven’t seen you around the library?”
He rumbles faintly, playfully narrowing his eyes. “You said going to the game was a one-time thing to see your brother play. So what is it about hockey that you’re not a fan of?”
“I actually really like the game. I grew up not far from Boston going to games with my family. I loved how fast and exciting it was.” I angle towards him like I’m divulging a secret. “It’s the players that ruin it for me.”
Struck with an impulsive urge, I ruffle his hair. It’s thick and softer than I imagined it would be. He chuckles, letting me get away with it for a moment before catching my wrist. His blue eyes gleam, holding mine.
Then he tickles my sides.
I yelp, darting back. He steadies me with a hand on my arm to keep my drink from sloshing over.
“Careful.”
His touch leaves my arm tingling. I suppress the urge to shiver.
“Thanks.”
“So the players are the problem, huh?” He braces his shoulder against the wall this time, facing me with interest.
I squint. “What’s that smug grin for?”
“Just figuring you out. Now I know more about you, like you’re ticklish as fuck, and you don’t actually hate hockey. See? We have a lot in common.”
I huff, the side of my mouth quirking up. “Good luck with that.”
“I told you before, I like hard work. I might be an athlete, but I enjoy studying. Committing something to memory. Learning all about it.”
He lets the statement hang between us with the implication that I’m the one he’s studying. His fingers brush mine and I don’t pull away.
“What are we talking about over here?” Reagan returns from the other side of the room. “Hey Easton.”
He pushes off the wall we’re leaning on to give her a friendly hug. “Hey.”
“Where are the rest of the guys?”
He shrugs. “Noah might be here. He hits the gym with some of the guys from the frat.”
