Page 27 of The Roommate Game

Maybe that wasn’t news, but I’d noticed, and yes…I was curious.

I suspected something was going on with Gus. Why else would he suddenly want to spend time with me? I doubted his shift in roommate etiquette was entirely due to penance for past wrongs. Not that I questioned his sincerity, but I wondered if there was more to it.

The problem with all this wondering was that it was leading me astray.

Tonight was a perfect example. Here I was at a hockey game, surrounded by Smithton fans screaming their lungs out in the third period of a tied nail-biter against Trinity, and my eyes were glued to the Bears’ captain, who happened to be on the bench, waiting for a line change.

Gus wasn’t having a great game. He seemed tired and out of sync. His acceleration speed was a beat behind everyoneelse’s, lacking explosiveness and hindering his ability to elude the defense. I observed him closely for signs that he was ill or injured. Gus seemed healthy, though.

I tore my gaze toward the action as the announcer howled, “Goal, Bears!”

The arena erupted. The Bears circled Ty, tapping sticks and chanting his name.

Gus cheered from the sideline. His goofy grin took over his face the way it always did. If he was bummed that he hadn’t been part of the action, he didn’t show it. He just smiled and looked…

Okay…fine! He looked good. Sexy, even.

The sweat damp hair, scruffy jaw, mischievous smirk, muscles galore, and?—

I screwed my eyes shut as I clapped along with the rest of Smithton, internally chiding myself to get my shit together. Gus was my roommate…my recently converted from being annoying and generally horrible roommate.

Besides Gus was not in any way, shape, or form infatuation material. Eli was.

Eli was graceful, mature, interesting, and…stuff. Maybe.

At the moment, I couldn’t remember anything about Eli. He might as well have been a figment of my imagination. I should have been searching him out in the crowd, but I didn’t care if he was here while I had Gus on the brain.

My common sense had obviously gone on a wicked hiatus, which possibly explained the heart palpitations and odd roommate fixation and?—

“Earth to Rafe! Celebration time, baby. Let’s go.” Celine elbowed my ribs and motioned for me to follow.

Twenty minutes later, I was hanging a cheek at a corner booth at Vincento’s, sipping house white wine and snacking on garlic balls with Celine and a few of our teammates: Kelsi, Ingrid, Miles, Erik, and Jackson.

After Celine, Jackson was my favorite person at Smithton. He was easygoing almost to a fault—the type of person who could find a silver lining in every crappy situation. I had high hopes that a smidge of his positivity would rub off on me.

“Bea says my berry muffins aren’t selling at the bakery. She wants me to add sugar, but that changes the recipe. I have a bad feeling she’ll revoke my baking privileges if I don’t produce the gooey chocolatey junk Smithton loves,” he groused. “Do you think anyone will notice if I substitute with carob?”

“I think you’ll get arrested,” I replied, only half joking.

Jackson hooted merrily and opened his mouth, but if he spoke, I couldn’t hear above the din of blood whooshing in my ears as the hockey team strode through the entrance. The entire restaurant whooped and hollered.

“Go, Bears!”

“Way to go, Bears!”

“Get those boys some pizza and beer!”

Vincento Junior greeted them personally, shaking hands with the hulking athletes as if they were celebrities. Which…they were. It was a long-standing bone of contention that hockey and football were the only sports to get the full royal treatment in town. It wasn’t fair, but it hadn’t made hockey players less popular amongst my teammates who’d collectively paused their conversations to admire the jocks hovering nearby.

Myself included.

They were all good-looking. Brady had a boy-next-door appeal, Ty was tattooed drop-dead deliciousness, Regan was broody but in a soulful way, and Gus…

Gus was the class clown, everyone’s pal, the good-time guy who couldn’t remember to put his dishes in the dishwasher, forgot everyone’s name yet somehow still made you feel important.

He cleaned up nicely in a snug-fitted Henley shirt and dark jeans. His wavy hair had been finger-combed into submission, his smile was like a ray of sunshine, and?—

Yikes. What is wrong with me?