Page 40 of What Are The Odds?
“Hey man,” a male voice interjected. “Didn’t expect to see you at a hockey game.”
“Yeah,” Ryker laughed, returning the masculine hand gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back to regular programming tomorrow.”
The guy continued on, pausing to chat to Ryker’s two friends.
“Sorry about that.” Ryker smiled sheepishly. “About the kiss.”
Here we go. The blush returned.
“Are you mad? You seemed a bit strange afterwards.”
“No,” I returned. “Of course not. It’s just, between the kiss and the game and the fight . . .” I trailed off, chuckling shyly.
Mad? No. Overwhelmed? Definitely.
Ryker laughed. “Got it. But we’re good?”
I nodded. “It’s forgotten. I know it was just for the camera.”
His forehead pinched. “Well, actually–”
“Hughesy!” Tripp bounded out the changeroom, dressed in dress pants, a white shirt, and his hockey jacket. He bundled me in his arms, squeezing tightly. “How’d you find it?”
“Intense,” I admitted. “That game is pretty bad ass.”
“Told you.” He smirked. “Tougher than your beloved AFL?”
“No way. You were decked in protective gear.”
“We’ll win you over, Hughesy.” He seemed to sober up, as though only just realising I was standing with Ryker. “What’s up, Richardson?”
“O’Connor,” Ryker clipped back.
My eyes fell to the locker room when Levi walked out. He was wearing a fitted grey suit with a Phil-U beanie. He looked different decked out in the formal clothes the team was required to wear. He looked . . . good. Really good. He was walking with Will, their faces close as they spoke. When he saw me, I offered him a small wave.
“You’re coming back to our house, right?” Tripp asked, nudging me. “I perfected the passionfruit daiquiri. The first one of the night belongs to you.”
I took a step back, shaking my head at him in disbelief. “What do you mean you perfected it? It was already perfect.”
“Nah. It needed way more alcohol.”
He ruffled my hair before slinging his arm over my shoulder, just as Levi and Will reached us. Despite the win, Levi didn’t appear as though he was celebrating. There was a permanent frown etched into his forehead.
“Good win, Rocky,” I jested, playfully tapping his chest.
He smiled, but it was half-hearted. His gaze travelled past my shoulder. To Ryker.
“Enjoy the pace?” Levi asked.
“I enjoyed the knuckles,” Ryker returned. “I thought you usually left the fighting to your lackeys.”
Levi shrugged. “Sometimes the fight’s worth it.”
Ryker nodded, as though he knew exactly what Levi meant. I was sensing a thick hostility between these two, which I didn’t know what to make off. They always seemed to be at odds.
“Can we get to the party now?” Tripp asked, resting his head on my shoulder.
Levi cleared his throat. “If you’re hanging with Hughesy, you and your guys are welcome, Richardson.”
