Page 39 of Can't Kiss the Chef

“Just be careful, Lo.”

Byron’s words have been playing on loop in my head.

I turn to face the warm body I’m tucked into, warm hazel eyes and a sleepy smile greet me.

“Other than someone kicking me, I slept pretty well.” I reach out and run my fingers over his eyebrows that went a little haywire while we were sleeping.

We didn’t sleep together, by the way. I mean, we slept in the same bed; but nothing happened other than some kissing and a little heavy petting. I’m not a prude, and I don’t care who you sleep with. I just like to know who I’m getting into bed with. I want to make sure I’m not inviting people into my life that are going to hurt me.

Dalton was the perfect gentleman, by the way.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“I know you and the boys are on rival hockey teams, but you’ll be okay to hangout with them, right? My friends mean the world to me, and this,” I point from my chest to his, “won’t work if you can’t.”

His fingertips drag up my arm. Tracing whimsical patterns on my skin.

“Byron and I have a little more history than I do with the rest of the guys. We both are from New York and played for rival teams. It was a little contentious at some points, playing in city championships against each other, but I have no hard feelings.”

He drops my hand, placing his thumb and pointer finger under my chin, and raises it until I’m looking him in his eyes.

“I can put aside some childish rivalry if it means I get to see you again.”

I try not to smile. This is what it feels like being in a mature relationship. I can’t play games anymore.

“Thank you.”

And then he kisses me. It has potential, it just needs a little work.

He fully has me when he asks about the stack of books I have on my nightstand. He seems genuinely interested in learning why each one made the trip from Philly to Westvale. Then he orders my current read,Long Shotby Kennedy Ryan, statingwe can have our own book club.I just swoon.

Dalton left shortly after we got up. He starts practice tomorrow, too. He had to meet with his coach to go over some goals they have for the season with the other seniors. It’s a Hamilton tradition to make sure they are all on the same page. Dalton hinted that the beginning of his freshman year was a disaster because of the game planning. Now, they have this meeting yearly, so nobody is blindsided.

I was able to make him one of my world-famous cappuccinos, and get a goodbye kiss. So, my Sunday is off to a very good start.It gets even better when my phone starts ringing, and I realize it’s a call from Ivy.

You ever have a friend that pops up whenever you need them. That’s Ivy. It’s like we have this kind of telepathy that pulls on each other’s souls.

My heart grows bigger, knowing that she is taking time away from a daunting vet school curriculum to call me.

“Hey, V!” I’m greeted by a bare-faced Ivy, the New York City skyline behind her. I can’t wait to get to the city to see her and Jalen’s apartment. It’s insane what a lottery pick in the draft can get you.

“Lola, I miss you,” her voice drags. She sounds a lot more tired than she looks. “Distract me from studying. I can’t read another page.”

God I’m happy that I’m not on that track anymore.

“Well, I had an interesting weekend.”

I give her the cliff note version of the last two days. She is just as shocked as I was about Dalton’s long history with both Byron and Jalen.

“Damn, I miss college.” She chuckles. “Did Byron seem upset?”

I shrug and give myself a second to think. “I don’t think so. He was his normal drunk, happy self.”

More silence.

“Why?”

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