Page 11

Alex

S o, I fell for Brad 9.0.

It was bound to happen. Lance presented his plan so solidly and thoroughly, and he was so excited that I ended up agreeing, even though I had serious reservations. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the plan, but it was definitely an improvement on trapping Brad and me in a storage closet.

I gave Tommy a nervous smile as he loomed above me, his scowl deeper than usual. I was already ruffled from Brad’s pre-date treatment, and being hit with Tommy’s murderous look as soon as I entered the restaurant didn’t help. I had no idea he even had a job.

“What do you want?” he said shortly, lifting his pen and pad as he glared at me. His black shirt and trousers, and the white apron tied around his waist, all suited him well, but I’d never tell him that. I’d rather keep my head on my body tonight.

“Just water for now,” I replied, trying not to cringe under the weight of his stare.

“Uh huh,” Tommy grunted, his eyes flicking to the empty chair in front of me before walking off.

Twisting my fingers, I peered out of the restaurant window, hoping Lance would appear soon. He said we were going on a date, but I didn’t think it would be at such an upscale place. Though, the moment my gaze clashed with Tommy’s, it was obvious why he’d chosen this particular venue.

I’d been so overwhelmed when Brad took care of me, but I was still underdressed. Having the guy I loved run his fingers through my hair repeatedly before stroking all over my chest had turned me into a ball of mush, and I was still trying to get myself back together.

I was happy to sit by a window at any other place, but considering how most of the men in the restaurant were in suits and the women in flowing evening dresses, I felt so out of place. Even with the whispers of Brad’s touch still fluttering over my stomach, his murmurs of appreciation, the memory of his proud grin just before he hugged me, it wasn’t enough to banish the nerves beating me from the inside.

I’d already been seated for five minutes when Tommy delivered the water with a scowl. Another five, and I became sure the late arrival was part of Lance’s plan. He hadn’t left me waiting like this before when we’d made plans in the past, and the fact Tommy was serving our table only confirmed it.

By the time Lance breezed through the door, I was itching with awkwardness. I’d seared the six-line menu into my brain by the time Lance strode in, prowling past the pairs of olive trees strung with fairy lights to reach the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, swooping down to press his lips against my cheek. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

“I’m sure it was,” I replied dryly, and he shot me a quick grin, confirming my suspicions.

We’d literally come from the same building and it was barely a ten-minute walk away. There was absolutely no need for him to bring his car, but I wouldn’t question it.

“Try not to look so worried. We’re just having dinner,” Lance said smoothly as he slid off his very obvious Kites jacket, his number painted on the front and back, and turned to drape it over the back of his chair.

“You could have at least told me there was a dress code,” I grumbled.

“Well, it’s fine, isn’t it? We match!” He laughed as he revealed a black shirt unbuttoned so far down his chest I could see the top of his stomach, along with his blonde chest hair.

It honestly wasn’t a surprise.

But I was happy Brad had dealt with my shirt, even though it would have been fine when everyone else was wearing such bright colors.

Lance gave a satisfied sigh as he plucked the menu from its lonely resting place on top of his plate.

Before I could reply, a shadow cut across the table, and we both looked up. Tommy’s scowl evolved into pure fury as the muscles of his jaw shifted under his skin.

Lance burst into a smile as he peered over the top of the cream A4 sheet.

“Tommy! What a surprise!” He beamed.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Tommy hissed, glaring at Lance as he dropped two empty glasses in front of us. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The restaurant was reservation only, and I heard it had a two-month waiting list. So, either Lance had been planning this for longer than I thought, or he’d used his family connections to get us in.

Lance placed a hand on his chest in mock shock as he smirked up at the guy he claimed he was in love with. The more I saw them together, the more I was convinced Lance just enjoyed a tease.

“Please, Tommy, I would never do such a thing. It’s like you’re implying I deliberately booked this lovely table to see you or something.”

Lance notched his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his fingers as he gazed up at Tommy adoringly. I didn’t know what he saw in him, but then again, Lance didn’t know what I saw in Brad.

This was Brad 9.0. I helped Lance with Tommy, Lance helped me with Brad.

It was just the ‘pretend we’re dating’ bit I wasn’t completely on board with.

Tommy clicked his tongue in annoyance, twirling the pen like he was ready to stab Lance in the eye.

“Why don’t you just bring us a bottle of the house red to start?” Lance said with a lazy smile.

Tommy narrowed his eyes at him, not even glancing at me.

“Fine,” Tommy snapped as he shoved his notebook back in his apron and took off.

Lance never shared any more details about how they knew each other. It was some big mystery he liked to flaunt. And, from the way he endlessly poked at Tommy and Tommy’s absolute hatred of him, I had no idea what to believe.

I was sure he wouldn’t put up with Tommy’s temper if he didn’t like him. All the other guys on the team had just accepted that Tommy was permanently angry and left him alone unless we were on the ice.

Lance’s gaze swept over Tommy’s ass as he walked away, his expression softening briefly before he spun his attention back to me.

“Well, any progress?” he asked.

“It’s barely been a week,” I replied instantly.

“Of course!” Lance clapped his hands together. “And we’re going for hard and fast, aren’t we? You’ve been taking it slow for too long. I put you on the offensive, so how have you attacked?”

I sighed as I turned from him, looking through the window at the diners who sat under the veranda, enjoying the spring air. “Okay, maybe there was a break in ‘defense,’ if you’re determined to talk like that. But how am I meant to know for sure it meant anything?”

“If I know Brad, you’ll find out soon enough.” Lance reached forward, gently lifting my hand from the tabletop and lacing his fingers through mine.

My eyebrows shot up, but I quickly forced myself to relax.

Brad 9.0 required a lot more than handholding—literally—and probably more in the future. It was Lance’s riskiest plan yet, but if he was right, then it could be the one that paid off.

“And you?” I asked quietly, trying to not be so aware of how his thumb circled the soft skin of my hand.

“Well, as you can see, he’s completely overjoyed to see me. So I’m obviously having an effect.”

I gave him a pointed look, which resulted in a knowing smirk. He wasn’t just the freshman team captain because he was the best in the game. It was the fact that he was always three steps ahead that put me on edge. Like now, when he lifted my hand and brought it to his lips.

“I just need to make sure I push all the right buttons so he realizes the love of his life has been here all along.”

It might have sounded passionate, but his wicked expression said everything.

“You’re talking like you’ve done this before,” I said.

“No, not this specifically, but isn’t your group project this semester about stimulation and response? Won’t it be so fun to put it into practice? You’re the stimulation, and we’ll wait to see our test subjects’ response.”

I should have known from the way he lit up when I told him about my project that it had been a mistake. Of course it had given him ideas.

Thankfully, my group had chosen a different subject to study for our end of term project. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I wrote a report on Lance’s grand plan and submitted it.

He seemed way more confident in his approach to Brad 9.0 than I was.

“Besides, like you, if I tried to be straightforward with Tommy again, I’m pretty sure I’d ruin any other chance I had.” Lance hitched a brow. “So, don’t worry. I’m in the same boat. It’s a risk for me, too.”

I ran my eyes over him, still pulsing out his siren call of sex, which grabbed the attention of anyone who could see him. All he needed to do was laugh and people would zero in on him.

“I still can’t believe you’re struggling. You’re always so confident.”

“Apart from this.” Lance shrugged. “Apart from here. Tommy is a special breed of creature who’ll warm up with time. Probably.”

“Well, there is that…” I trailed off as I thought about failing again. The familiar sting of pain nudged my heart.

Lance said he’d hit on Tommy once before, and it ended disastrously, but it was a year or two ago. So, I would have said the warming-up period was officially over, but then again, Lance could apply that logic to my relationship with Brad as well. It didn’t explain why Tommy was so angry with everyone, but it made more sense why he was so sharp with Lance.

“Right,” Tommy’s voice suddenly snapped between us as he placed the bottle of wine on the table, “what do you want?”

Lance leaned back, perking up straight away, and squeezing my hand like he was asking me to stay still.

“Oh! We’ve barely had time to choose. Alex? Is there anything you’d like?”

When I actually thought about it, I was starving, but I barely recognized anything on the short menu. And the prices next to them made me want to clutch my wallet protectively.

This was the kind of place where jewels sparkled around throats and wrists, and the scent of money floated in the air.

“I’m not sure what’s good,” I replied. It was easier to say that than just admit I’d rather have a protein bar and go to bed. I’d prefer to wake up hungry than battle with Tommy, but I’d made an agreement with Lance.

“I can come back if you’re both just going to piss about,” Tommy said flatly.

“Oh, my! Tommy! I hope you don’t treat all your customers like this! Or are we just that special?” Lance’s smirk grew deeper with every word as Tommy looked like he was barely controlling himself.

I had the picture of Lance being a playful labrador, happy to have a scrappy little dog like Tommy bite at him, unbothered by his barking.

I didn’t know how Lance did it. If Brad treated me like that, I would probably shut myself in my room and never emerge.

“Okay.” Lance looked back at me, his thumb still circling my hand. “How about I order three things and you can graze like a little bunny? How does that sound?”

Thankfully, I didn’t have to reply as Lance rattled off three things from the menu. I had no clue what they were, but they sounded very fancy and French.

Tommy clicked his tongue as he scrawled down the orders, quickly glancing at our entwined fingers before shooting off.

Even though he looked angry, he hadn’t seemed bothered that Lance and I were together. Or that he was even surprised.

Maybe he knew more than we thought.

“Okay, Alex, strategy time.” Lance leaned forward, sweeping closer to me to share our secret plan.

I nodded, lifting one elbow to the table, meeting his playful gaze. “Strategy,” I repeated, as if I was actually ready for this.

I’d played against some of the fiercest teams in the country, faced off against guys who paired up to take me out as I raced down the ice, broken a leg, and it still wasn’t as frightening as actually telling Brad how I felt about him.

“Indeed.” His broad grin came back into play. “So, we can go in hard and try to do this in a week, or we can switch to the long game and you can drag it out until you leave for the Wranglers. To be honest, I’d love to draw it out. That gives me an entire month to play with you.” The corner of his lip curved. “And Brad isn’t exactly the sharpest nail in the box. I’d rather just push until one of us breaks.”

“Are you talking about you and me?”

“Hmmm, maybe.” He tipped his head to the side with a slick smile.

“How did you know Tommy even works here?”

“Trade secret.” Lance winked.

Tommy had hidden this job from all of us, but it explained why he didn’t go to parties. Most of us were absolutely shattered after class and then games, but to then come out to work a night shift? That might explain why Tommy was in a foul mood all the time.

Lance continued. “I’ve already come up with a point-by-point plan. We just have to initiate it in a way which will have the most impact. And before you know it, Brad’s going to be bending you over your bed and having his wicked way with you.”

My heart leaped into my throat as the blush I could never control shot up my cheeks. I instantly lifted my free hand to cover my face so he couldn’t see it.

Just because it was one of my endless fantasies didn’t mean I wasn’t embarrassed about it.

Lance had been doing this all week. Every time Brad was close but out of earshot, Lance would say something like that just to get a response out of me. The filthy things come out of his mouth about Brad left me blushing for ages.

He said it was getting to Brad, but I was too busy getting wound up by the ideas he put in my head. I couldn't even look Brad in the eyes when I thought about it.

Lance’s laugh echoed around me before his fingers brushed the back of my hand. He cupped it, gently removing it from my face, lowering our arms so he held them both.

“You don’t need to be shy about this,” he said, his tone changing to one of understanding. “I know you’ve been hiding for a long time, but you don’t have to suffocate in silence. I did the same thing and look where I am now.”

“You mean, tricking someone into falling in love with you?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Lance chuckled. “Well, you could look at it that way. Or we could say I’m so wrapped up in the idea of being in love that all I want is someone to share it with.”

Like a switch, he flipped from joking to serious so fast he left me stumped.

Someone cleared their throat above us, and we both turned to find Tommy holding a basket of breadsticks. I gasped, suddenly jerking back from Lance, but he kept his hands firmly on mine.

“Thank you,” he said placidly, smiling up at Tommy, not letting me move an inch.

“Sure,” he bit out, turning and fleeing to serve our neighboring table.

Lance looked back at me, already beaming. “See? Strategy. It’s just like a game, all about timing. We make the right plays and we’re in for the win.”

Considering the success of Brad’s 1.0-8.0, it was in my best interest to doubt him. But I still had hope. I always had hope, but I never acted on it. It didn’t matter how hard I pushed myself out on the ice and how I did everything I could to win, it never applied to anything except hockey.

I swallowed the nerves fluttering through me. It felt strange to treat this like a game, but it made it easier to face the possibility I might lose my best friend forever, no matter what I did.

So I just had to remember: strategy.