Page 28 of Date With Skates

I scan and scan as best I can, while not making it obvious, looking over the athlete section multiple times. Until I finally spot him. Standing on his feet and cheering right beside Nico, who looks like he gives a shit that we won. Roman must be rubbing off on him.

Knowing Étienne is here gives me a small sense of relief, and I focus on the team, knowing his eyes are on me. I don’t need to look for him now because I know exactly where he is.

When we’re back in the locker room, I quickly get undressed, showered, and changed.

“What’s got you running out of here so fast?” Richtor asks.

“Starving,” I answer, which is half the truth. I am starving, and I know the exact thing I need to sate my hunger.

I check my phone as I’m walking out of the arena, only to have it snatched out of my hand as soon as I turn down the walkway.

“Good game, Hockey Boy.”

I smirk as Étienne dangles my phone in front of me. I pause before taking it back and putting it into my pocket.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“You’re speaking my love-language.”

We take the bus back to the Village and head to the dining hall. We both get pasta and garlic bread. Surprisingly, his pile is almost as big as mine. I doubt he’ll eat it all because where does he put it? We find a table to sit and eat at. There aren’t many people here yet, so we get an empty table all to ourselves. He digs right into his food, not being shy about eating. I do the same, of course, because what’s there to be embarrassed about?

“This is so good,” he groans, stabbing a meatball. “I should have grabbed more garlic bread.” He leans to the side to look past me at the line, debating if waiting is worth it.

“Here, just have mine.” I pick up my slice and put it on his plate. He looks at me like I just kicked his kitten. “What?”

“You’re giving me your garlic bread?”

“Yes?”

“This golden, buttery, garlic-y deliciousness?”

I raise a brow. “It’s just bread.”

“It’s not just bread. It’s the superior bread. The king of all breads. The God of bread itself.”

“Right…” I say carefully. “So you love garlic bread. I’ll keep note of that.”

He smiles cutely. “Please do. I’ll accept it for all holidays and birthdays.”

“When is your birthday?” I ask.

“June sixth. Yours?”

“December third.”

“You look like a winter baby,” he comments.

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t think it has a meaning. It’s just a feeling.” He bites into his garlic bread and moans indecently. My dick takes notice.

“You should probably be a little more quiet,” I say.

“Are my moans of approval bothering you, Hockey Boy?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Considering I can’t bend you over this table and fu—”

“Hey, McVoy.” Richtor drops his tray on the table and takes the seat beside me. “What’s up, Étienne?” We can’t even respond before the rest of the team floods right in. I’m surprised when Nico drops into the spot on the side of Étienne with Roman on his other side.