Page 65 of Daring the Hockey Player

"I didn't hear you come in," I say. My hand is wrapped around the can of hard lemonade, and he glances at it but doesn't say anything.

"Hi! I'm Charlotte." My redheaded friend beams like he hasn't already seen her at the hockey games and met her at the bar.

"I know who you are." Jasper's eyes tighten. "Don't you have class?" he asks me.

"Finished up for the day. I already did my homework, too," I say.

Charlotte mouthsDaddybehind his back as she heads out of the hallway. "I can go if I'm interrupting something."

"You just got here. Don't be ridiculous," I say. "I was going to make dinner soon, Jasper. Are you staying in tonight?"

He had a game yesterday, which means today was just working out, practicing, the usual—whatever the hell it is that professional hockey players do on a day when they don't compete.

"Seems like I am," he says, nodding at my drink. "Someone needs a chaperone."

"You're only a few months older than I am," I counter. "And I'm not going out anywhere."

"Drinking and cooking could also be construed as a crime if you burn the apartment down," Jasper says.

Charlotte silently watches us, tossing back the rest of her hard lemonade. There's a smirk on her face. She's enjoying this banter a little too much.

"I didn't start the fire at my apartment complex."

"No, but you did set off the fire alarm here twice," Jasper says.

Charlotte can't contain her silence any longer. "Is that why you always order takeout or eat on campus at the cafeteria?"

Did Charlotte just try to burn me? "Traitor!" I scowl at her and turn to Jasper. "For the record, the fire alarm is just overly sensitive."

"Should I give it a tissue to keep it from crying?" he quips. His eyes sparkle, and I want to wipe that smug grin off his face.

"No, but you could take the batteries out of it," I say.

"Zero chance in hell that's happening. I'll cook dinner," Jasper says and gestures for Charlotte and me to head away from the kitchen. I'm not even in the kitchen, just standing in the hallway, but I get the hint and plop down on the plush sofa with my friend.

"What are you making us?" Charlotte asks from the couch, a cheerful grin on her face.

"That depends. Do you burn down kitchens and set off smoke alarms?" Jasper asks Charlotte. "You do seem like the type, given your desire to convince my roommate to wear the rival's jersey at every game she's attended."

"Two games," I say, holding up two fingers at him. "And you haven't invited me back to see you play."

"I had a string of away games," Jasper says. "Home now."

"Missed anything?" Charlotte chimes.

"Other than my own bed?" Jasper asks.

At the mention of his bed, my cheeks warm, remembering when I took a nap on his mattress. Hell, I slept under his covers the first night that we met. Although I was trashed, and he was a perfect gentleman.

Sometimes I wish he hadn't been, and maybe then this unresolved sexual tension between us would be, well, resolved.

"You missed me," I say. "Worrying about whether I burned down your apartment making dinner."

"I left you takeout menus," Jasper quips. "And cash, but I see you left that untouched."

Charlotte leans in closer, eyes wide, and whispers to me, "He left you money?"

"And I didn't touch it. We're roommates. It wouldn't be appropriate." My whispering needs a bit of practice because Jasper glances up at me from the kitchen.