“I know. I’m so sorry.” He whipped his jacket off the back of his chair and stuffed it under one arm. Grabbing his mug, he gulped down what was left of his flat white, leaving him with a tiny milk mustache. “Reschedule?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Thank you.” Shuffling over, a scarf dangling out of one arm of his jacket, Eli side-hugged him. “You’re the best, Zanetti.”
“Ah, okay,” Sandro sputtered. “Is hugging a thing we do now?”
Bennett cough-laughed into his fist.
“Sorry again. Bye, guys.”
He left, returning a handful of seconds later, wide-eyed and flushed. “Shit, I forgot I was supposed to drive you home. If you want to leave now, I might have time to?—”
“Go.” Sandro waved him off. “I’ll call a car.”
“You don’t have a car?” Bennett asked as Eli finally headed toward the exit.
“It’s in the shop.”
“Again!” Eli yelled, pushing the door open with a wave over his shoulder. Because he might be adorable and chatty and a great hockey player, but he’d also apparently been with the team just long enough to realize that Sandro’s car being in the shop was now a running joke with their teammates.
Rolling his eyes at Eli’s impetuousness, he finished his latte and took out his phone to call a car.
“I can drive you home.”
Tensing at Bennett’s words, Sandro swallowed roughly. “That’s okay, I can?—”
“Sandro.”
Bennett’s blue eyes were too intense, yet Sandro couldn’t look away.
“Let me take you home.”
Against his better judgment, Sandro nodded.
This morning’s rain had persisted throughout the day like a bad hangover.
Or, Sandro amended, side-eyeing Bennett in the driver’s seat, like an ex who just wouldn’t stop popping up where he didn’t belong.
Okay, bantering with him at the coffee shop hadn’t sucked by any means. Quite the opposite. Instead of reminding Sandro of what he’d lost, it had reminded him of bumping into Bennett at the grocery store near campus, arms overflowing with items he hadn’t necessarily needed, and locking eyes with a hot guy who’d looked like he belonged at a photoshoot.
That hot guy’s dorm room had been on the same floor as Sandro’s, it had turned out.
Even better? They were going to be teammates on the University of Michigan’s Division I hockey team.
But Bennett was seeing someone, and that someone had followed him to U-M.
Hell, Sandro was seeing someone that he’d met over the summer while in Tobermory, a fact that he’d had to remind himself of frequently during the first year he and Bennett had played together.
Was Bennett seeing anyone now?
The windshield wipers worked as Bennett followed the GPS to Sandro’s place. Sandro shifted in his seat to look at him, the heat shooting out of the vents making him overly warm.
Bennett was beautiful in profile. His jaw and nose were sharply defined, his lips soft and pouty. His brow was oddly more pronounced in profile, and the fine hairs at his temple, too short to tie back, had curled from the rain in the short jog from the coffee shop to the parking lot. His bun kept getting in the way of him resting his head back against the headrest, so he sat slightly hunched forward with his hands at ten and two as he drove like someone who was new to the city.
“What?” Bennett asked during a quiet moment between the GPS directions. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Because you make me miss what was.
