Page 150 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 3

“You keep bringing that up like it changes what tonight feels like,” Damon said.

I would have let him have me right here and now if it weren’t for our food arriving. No, we were not dating. That was a disastrous idea. But I could get used to being treated like this.

See, I’d dated in Chicago. I’d done all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re a student with spare time and an undying wish to be someone’s boyfriend. I’d signed up for dating apps, gone to social events, joined parties I was invited to, and even ended up at a few post-game hockey parties when the Steel Saints lost to the Arctic Titans in their home rink. I could have sworn that I’d seen Damon from a distance, lost to the devotion of the followers and the attention of the camera crews, moving like a blur of flashlights and disappearing before I could be sure it was him.

And in all those times, I had never gone on a date where I felt like the center of someone’s universe. Even when those dates were romantic and promising, when the possibilities were not so limited as ours, I’d never believed for a second that I mattered.

This hit differently. We knew where the lines were, and Damon still crossed them just for the fun of it. Just to pretend. Just to see what it was like.

“It feels good,” I admitted, taking a bite of my food. “I might give you my number if you play your cards right.”

He smiled mischievously and nodded. “Now we’re playing.”

“Your turn,” I said. “Tell me about yourself. Who is Damon Pierce?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Damon is the handsomest boy who has ever lived, and he’s very sweet and totally deserves to be invited to your place whenever you’re feeling blue. Or lonely. Or happy. Or, let’s be honest, horny.” He ate, nodding appreciatively at the food. “Don’t waste time scrolling through my profile when you can have a private showing anytime you ask.” He bit his lip briefly, making me press my thighs together. “I like it when you look at me like that.”

“Like I’m plotting your murder?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“But really,” I said, leaning a little closer to him. “How many people did you take out like this?”

“Define people.”

“If I throw a salad at you, will you flirt with it?”

Damon shrugged. “It would depend on the salad.”

“God, we’re about to find out,” I said, touching my nearly empty plate. The fact that he could just keep teasing me, keep making me want to drag him into the restroom and lock the door, drove me crazy. Crazy for him. We never should have done this. It messed with my head in ways I wasn’t equipped to resist.

He lifted the menu from a passing waiter and flipped through it. “How about something sweet?”

“I’d kill for a little treat,” I said.

Damon shot me a look that said it all, undressing me and pointing it out without speaking a word.

“I’m so gonna stab you before the night is over,” I said.

“Let me order for you,” he said.

I crossed my arms and leaned back. “Order wrong and I’m going to use your skull as a flower pot.”

“You’d water me weekly, pour all over me,” he mused with a nice little sigh.

“You’d be dead in three days.”

He smiled. “Surely, this counts as flirting.”

The waitress came to get our orders, and Damon rushed through them, then asked for water.

“Still or sparkling?” the waitress asked.

“My date here likes whatever’s more expensive,” Damon said.

“And my date likes whatever gets him laid,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Sparkling it is,” the waitress said, taking the menu away and leaving me to simmer in embarrassment. Damon threw his head back and laughed out loud, saying he couldn’t believe that I’d said that aloud.