Page 72 of Skating to Him

“Oh, that Queer Confections place? I’ve been meaning to try that.” I walked the food to the table and set it down. The table was already set with plates, glasses, and silverware.

Tyler strolled past me, slapped my ass, and grabbed orange juice out of the refrigerator. “Looks like there’s coffee made over here too.”

“Will you make me some, babe?” I flopped onto a chair and rubbed my hands together. The breakfast looked wicked delicious.

“Babe?” Myles snickered. “You call each other that?” As he spooned eggs onto his plate, he wrinkled his nose.

“Yeah, guess we do.” It had all started during sex, but I wasn’t going to tell Myles that.

“Leo and I call each other that.” Archer, sitting across from me and next to Leo, put bacon on his plate.

Tyler set cups of coffee in front of me and at the open spot next to me and then placed a carton of orange juice on the table. “What’s your problem with it, Myles?” He focused on him.

With a shrug, he said, “Nothin’, I guess. Just sounds weird coming out of your mouths.” He arched a brow at me. “I don’t consider Tyler to be ababe.” He snickered again and poured salsa onto his eggs.

“I can be a babe.” Tyler raised his chin at Myles. “Right, Rowan?”

“Hell yes.” I planted a kiss on his cheek and my heart stuttered. I’d only kissed him in public that one time, but twice in front of Myles…

With a grin and a nod, Tyler leaned into my side.

“Goddamn, look at you two.” Archer stuffed eggs into his mouth and pointed his fork at Tyler. “I have never seen him this happy.” His gaze cut to mine. “You’ve made a new man out of him, Rowan.”

“Thank you.” I squirmed in my seat, picking up a slice of bacon with my fingers. Would our love for each other show at the rink? And if it did, would Coach even care as long as wewere playing at the top of our games? I bit off a piece of bacon and chewed. That was a worry for another day. Today, we had friends and a shit ton of food. “So, Leo, how are you going to cook that turkey?”

He set his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well, I’m going to try something new. My family usually cooks the turkey with stuffing in it overnight.”

“Yeah, he was getting silly with his mother last night while they cooked.” Archer gave Leo a knowing smile.

“It’s a family tradition to get drunk on wine with my mom the night before.” He chuckled. “Anyway, today I’ve got some fresh herbs I’m going to season some butter with, then spread over the turkey along with some lemon.” He looked around the table. “I’ll also put the herbs and lemon inside the bird.”

“Sounds delicious.” I ate some eggs. “Is there anything I can help with, maybe? Mashed potatoes or green bean casserole?” I could maybe show off some of my own cooking skills. I hadn’t done that yet with Tyler.

“You can cook?” Tyler lifted his brows at me.

“I can. Just haven’t had a chance yet.” I sipped my coffee. We still had so much to learn about each other.

“I’d love some help in the kitchen.” Leo held his coffee cup in both hands and offered a warm smile. “It’d give us a chance to get to know each other too.”

“Okay, then it’s a done deal.” I snatched a Danish from a box on the table and dropped it on my plate. Maybe fooling around with Tyler would have to wait. But making a good impression on Tyler’s friends was important too.

A few hours later,Tyler, Myles, and Archer sat on the couch drinking beer and watching football on the television while I helped Leo cook. He had me running around the kitchen like nobody’s business, but it felt good to be useful.

The doorbell rang.

“Mason?” Tyler hopped off the couch and waved me over. “Come here, Rowan.”

“Just a minute, Leo.” I set my green bean casserole, all ready for the oven, on the counter and jogged to meet up with Tyler at the door.

The bell rang a second time and kept going.

“Holy shit, dude.” Huffing a laugh, Tyler flung the door open. “Seriously?”

“You’re slow as fuck. Hope you’re not like that on the ice this year.” With a wide smile, a man with dark hair and blue eyes stepped into the house, grabbing Tyler up and spinning him around. “Fuck you look good.”

Another taller man stood in the doorway, shaking his head of dirty-blond hair, his green eyes piercing. Jett fucking Jarvis. One of the best NHL wingers in the league. I’d know him anywhere. Holy fuck. His gaze skipped to me. “Hey, you must be Rowan.”

“Uh, yeah.” I swallowed as my mouth went dry and held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Jett.”

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