“I guess I’ll find out on Monday. No way am I going to go to his birthday party and risk starting shit there.”
“He invited you?”
“No, his brothers asked the whole team. It’s a surprise thing at King’s Pizza Bar tomorrow night.”
“You have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because if he is pissed, it’ll show him you give a shit. Come on, it’s the man’s birthday. How old is he now, forty?”
“Fuck off, he’s not that old yet.”
“Gotta be close,” Cosmo says, picking up his phone and tapping and scrolling until he finds what he’s looking for. “I was close.”
“How close?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s about as close as you guys winning the cup this year.”
“Hey, we’re in with just as good a chance as you.”
I scrunch up my nose.
“Are you, though?”
“We’ve beaten you twice so far.”
“We’re just lulling you into a false sense of security.”
“Sure, brother.”
We laugh and drink, and the rest of the conversation flows easily. It’s just like old times, except this is better, because I’m not quietly pining for him. This is totally better. Except I think he’s right about me being into Reid, and that thought scares the fuck out of me, because now I’m wondering what he’d taste like and how his scruff would feel against my skin.
Fuck, I think my plan to Luka love-bomb the captain has backfired on me.
Chapter twelve
Reid
It’searly,andthesun is just cresting over the horizon as I reach the bottom of the stairs of the Museum of Art. It’s my favorite time to run in Philly, even with the cold. Partly because it’s too early for the tourists who come to race each other to the top and take photos with the Rocky statue, but mostly because the world has this clean, fresh-beginning glow to it.
A delicious, familiar scent fills my nose, and I breathe in a lungful before I turn towards it and find the one person I never expected to see. Luka fucking Hart.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and he pulls out his ear buds, eyebrows raised high.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
“What are you doing?” I repeat, and his smile widens.
“Baking a cake. What do you think I’m here for? I’ve been in Philly for weeks now, and I haven’t run the stairs. Why are you here?”
“I’m here for the stairs too, but I do this run every other day.”
“Feel like making things interesting?” he asks, and his lips pick up on one side in a smirk, the morning light illuminating the light freckles on his cheeks like a fine glitter.
“What did you have in mind?”
