Page 4 of Worth the Risk

The house itself is the perfect size for the two of us. Downstairs you have the typical living room, dining room, a guest bath and the kitchen. Upstairs we have two bedrooms and the main bathroom that we split. We’re also lucky enough to have a small yard with a nice patio that sits off the back sliding door.

We both lived on campus our freshman years, but then our parents decided to invest in this house for us to use and then possibly rent out later to other college students. We’re very fortunate that they did this for us as it's given us both the perfect space to study but also be social and have our respective teams over.

“Hey, Ry. I’m home.” I call, toeing my shoes off at the door and shoving them in the small entryway closet.

“Hey! In here.” I walk down the small hallway that leads into the open concept floor plan and see Ryan squatting in the kitchen, putting some beers and seltzers into the fridge. I reach above him snagging a water bottle and lean against the counter. “How was the game?”

“Good. Game winning home run scored by yours truly.” I gesture to myself.

“That’s my brother.” He stands, grabbing a water for himself. “You going to get captain?

“Seems that way.” At the end of the last hockey season Ryan was announced captain of his team. It would be cool for us both to be captains of our respective teams our senior year

“Scouts there?”

“Yeah a few I think.” I nod but my stomach turns. I choose once again to ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut. “Want to order some pizza before the party?”

Chapter 3

Emilia

The uber pulls up outside a cute two-story blue house with white shutters. I can see LED lights through the windows. Rosie springs out of the back seat and Garrett out the front passenger side. I take a deep breath and try to muster a smile that matches Rosie’s. I know I wanted to come and I still am semi excited to be here but I can’t lie and say I’m not a little bit anxious. I get out of the car and Rosie loops her arms with mine and makes her way to the house, Garrett following closely behind us.

“Do we knock?” Rosie laughs and Garrett lets out a low chuckle.

“No, we just go in.” Rosie says at the same time the door opens, revealing a smiling Ryan. He leans against the doorframe taking in Rosies black shorts and green crop top.

“Glad you guys could make it.” Rosie glares back at him. I swear the tension between these two is insane. Rosie must feel it, which is why she’s actively choosing to dislike him despite her being one of the most friendly people I’ve ever met.

“Thanks for having us, man.” Garrett snaps them out of whatever stare down they have going on and Ryan finally looks over to me and Garrett, smiling.

“Of course, margaritas are in the kitchen.” Ryan gestures for all of us to come through the doorway but I don’t think his eyes leave Rosie’s ass. With our arms still intertwined Rosie gets us through the small crowd that’s in the living room, which seems like a makeshift dance floor, and into the kitchen. On the counter is a pitcher with a homemade label saying, “Rita’s for Rosie”. I can’t help but giggle, to which Rosie gives me evil eyes.

“Wow Rosie, I think this guy’s really into you.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

“He doesn’t even know me besides as I said before I’m done with men.”

“Mhmmm.”

“Anyways, let’s see if there’s some tequila not mixed in this pitcher so we can start the night off with some shots.”

I groan, “Rosie, I’ve never even done a shot.” This is a recipe for disaster if we’re being honest.

“It’ll be fine. You know I’ll never let anything happen to you.” She says as she crouches down, sticking her head in the refrigerator. Something rattles and a man awkwardly coughs, I look behind Rosie and see a guy with the most gorgeous green eyes and curly brown hair staring back at me. Rosie bumps her head off the freezer while removing herself from the fridge.

“Ouch.” She grumbles.

“Find what you're looking for in there?”

“Yep.” She holds up a bottle of tequila. “We’re doing shots.”

“Here, let me.” He grabs the bottle, finally tearing his eyes from me and opens up a cabinet with small little red disposable shot glasses, well glasses would be a strong word, more like flimsy cups. He sets them on the counter and pours two shots, handing one to Rosie and then me. Our hands touch as I reach for the drink and my skin heats instantly with the contact.

“You’re not going to have one with us...”

“Liam and no, I try not to drink too much during the season.”

“Makes sense, well bottoms up Emi. I’ll count us down, okay?”

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