Page 4 of You're The One
“Sounds like you don’t have the same popularity? I’m shocked. Really,” I deadpan.
Although, I am a little surprised. He’s not… bad-looking, and let’s be real, no one is going off personality here. Pictures can’t capture his arrogance, his need for attention, or the way he turns everything into a joke. I doubt he’s advertising it in his bio, which is probably just as ridiculous as the man himself.
“Rude,” he scoffs.
Freddie has impeccable timing, butting his slobber-covered ball into my hand. I keep scrolling through matches with my other, already pretty sure I’ve figured out what Dominic’s hinting at.
And sure enough, it only takes a couple more swipes to see the same face beside me staring back from my screen.
It’s a much more understated photo than I’d expect from him. I would’ve bet money it would be him standing in front of his two-hundred-thousand-dollar bright yellow Lamborghini, in full Saints gear—because, really, what’s more attractive than being richanda hockey player?
I roll my eyes.
Instead, it’s him in a backward baseball cap and a plain white tee, in a selfie that looks like it might’ve been taken at a park. He does have his ridiculously wide smile plastered on, but that’s a given. I’m convinced it’s a permanent feature of his face.
When I look back at him, he’s watching me with said smile.
“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” I do my best to sound hopeful and not give away that I’m fucking with him. I take a step closer, looking up at him through my lashes.
For once, he actually looks like he doesn’t know what to do. His mouth opens, then shuts again.
I laugh. I can’t help it.
“Oh, God. Your face. Don’t worry, I’ll save you the embarrassment and just tell you no.” I flash him my sweetest fake smile. “It’snotme, it’s you.”
“You’re cute when you’re mean.”
A finger runs between my brows and down my nose. He bops it before I even register the motion, and I swat his hand away.See? Like a gnat.
“Quit it!” I screech, trying to plant a slap on his chest, but he hops out of reach.
Before I can regroup, Ryan wedges himself between us, stepping into his usual peacekeeper role. I’d like to say this is the first time our bickering needed a mediator, but… yeah, not even close.
“All right, kids. I think that’s enough.” Ryan pulls me into his side and places a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.
Dominic winks, and I grin, or at least that’s my intention. It feels more like I’m baring my teeth.
Thankfully, Ryan steers me toward the house before I can get another word out—or before my blood pressure hits the “stroke risk” zone. Or was it a heart attack? I’ll have to Google it to be sure… though my therapist wouldn’t approve. I try to push the spiraling thoughts away, but they linger like a pop-up ad.
Ryan distracts me when he asks, “What is up with you two? Can’t you just play nice?” He drops his arm from my shoulder as the distance between us and his teammate grows.
“It’s—”
“Him?” he finishes before I can.
“Yeah, it is. He’s impossible. I don’t know how you’re still friends with him. Or how the Saints have kept him this long…”
“Mia, he’s the assistant captain. He’s been with the team since he was drafted thirteen years ago. He’s not going anywhere. And now that we know I’m not either, at least for the foreseeable future, you’re going to have to get along. Or atleast pretend to.” He nods toward the house next door. “He’s my neighbor, for fuck’s sake.”
“He’s dreadful. That’s what he is.”
“Me? You’re the one who hates me for no apparent reason,” Dominic quips, trailing behind us and not catching the memo to fuck off. “I’m a likable guy. Everyone says so.”
“Did you ever consider that they’re lying to you?” I snip, turning to face him. “No, of course you didn’t, your head is too thick for that.”
“Not the head you’re referring to, but I agree.”
“Are you two serious?” Ryan tries to de-escalate.
