Briar
“So? How is flirting with your best friend going?” Anna asks, her tone teasing.
I smile at my reflection in the bathroom mirror in the ladies’ room. I finish putting on more lipstick, then blot with a tissue. “It’s really fun.”
Anna squeals softly. Poppy smiles as she washes her hands.
“The way Blake’s jaw unhinged when he saw you in that dress? Priceless,” Poppy says.
“He looked like one of those cartoon characters when their mouth falls to the floor, and their eyes pop out of their head,” Anna says.
My tummy does a somersault thinking about the look on Blake’s face when he saw me.
He is the hottest guy I know, and to think that he thought I looked hot too made me feel like the sexiest woman in the world.
“He keeps staring at you,” Anna says. “Through the whole first course, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
I’m smiling so hard, my cheeks hurt. Excitement flutters in my chest. Then, a second later, my nerves catch up.
“As fun as it is to flirt with him, I’m nervous,” I admit.
“Why?” Anna asks as she smooths over a stray hair that’s fallen out of Poppy’s sleek hairstyle.
I let out a breath and lean against the sink. “Blake’s my best friend. I’m just nervous that if we cross the line into something more, it’ll be awkward. Like, what if I go to kiss him and trip, then fall face-first into his chest?”
Anna burst out laughing. “You think a little awkwardness is going to make Blake all of a sudden not be into you?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah, kind of.”
Anna just smiles and shakes her head. “Believe me, Blake is into you. He’s just gonna be excited that your mouth is on his body.”
Poppy nods along. “She’s right. If a guy likes you, he’s not gonna care if things are awkward at first.”
I let out a breath, feeling a little calmer at their reassurance.
“Or hey, maybe he’ll make the first move and try to kiss you,” Poppy says.
My skin tingles thinking about Blake taking charge. I think about him grabbing my waist, pulling me against his body, and kissing me.
“I hope he does that,” I say quietly.
“Then just keep flirting with him,” Anna says.
“And look at his mouth a lot. Make it clear you want to kiss him,” Poppy says.
“Oh yeah, that’s a great idea,” Anna says.
I wrap my arms around them. “Thanks, you guys. You’re so great for talking me through this.”
They hug me tight, and we head out of the ladies’ room and back out to the table. After we sit back down, the head coach of the team—Coach Sawyer—stands up and raises his glance.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. I know the start of the semester has been busy for all of you, but I wanted to take the time to welcome our newest staff member,” he says, nodding to the far end of the table. “Coach Tremblay, welcome.”
Everyone turns and looks at Coach Tremblay. He’s a tall, broad, leanly muscled guy in his mid-thirties, who looks more like a handsome movie star than an assistant college hockey coach.
He’s got a head of thick, dark hair, a ridiculously square jaw, and ocean blue eyes.
Every woman at the table is staring at him with a smitten look.
I catch Poppy and Anna exchanging a smile. They both glance over at me. Anna mouths, “Hottie, right?” I hold back a laugh and nod.
He stands up from his seat and flashes a smile. “Thank you, everyone. Coach Sawyer, thank you for the kind words. And for picking up the tab for tonight’s dinner. I ordered the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu. Hope that’s okay,” he jokes.
Everyone at the table chuckles.
“Apologies that it took us almost two months of you working for the team before we took you out for a proper welcome dinner,” Coach Sawyer says.
Coach Tremblay chuckles. “It’s alright. I’m just happy to be here.”
He sits back down, and everyone digs into the main course, which is beef tenderloin in a creamy peppercorn sauce with roasted veggies.
“I don’t know if I like how good-looking Coach Tremblay is. I can’t focus during games and practices. He’s too pretty,” Nick jokes to our end of the table. We all chuckle.
“So you’re into tall, dark, and handsome guys then?” Blake says to me.
I can tell by his easy tone and his smile that he’s being playful. I shake my head.
“Oh, come on. I saw the way you and every other woman at this table looked at him,” he teases, gently bumping my shoulder.
“He’s handsome for sure. But not my type.”
“Then what’s your type?”
Blake and I have been best friends since high school, but we’ve never talked about what we find attractive in the opposite sex. I avoided it because I was too shy to admit that my type is him.
But now that we’re flirting—now that I’m testing the waters of us being something more than just friends, and it seems like he’s into me too—I think I want to tell him.
“My type is tall with muscles.”
He nods. “Of course. Gotta have muscles.”
I giggle into my water glass and take a sip. I lock eyes with him. “Blue eyes.”
He quirks an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth tilts up. “Yeah?”
I nod. My gaze moves to his hair. “Blond hair. Thick. Messy. A little wavy.”
His brow lifts slightly, and he grins. “Really?”
I nod. I look down at my plate and take a bite of steak, hoping I’m not blushing too much.
This is the most forward I’ve ever been with Blake, and my nerves are going crazy.
He’s quiet for a long moment. I start to get nervous. Maybe that was too much. Maybe he thinks it’s weird that I just admitted he’s my romantic type.
But then, a minute later, he leans his mouth to my ear.
“I have to confess something.”
Goosebumps flash across my skin at how sexy his voice is. Low and rough. Soft too, somehow.
“My type is blonde too,” he rasps. “Except I like green eyes. Not blue.”
My breath catches as I look at him. He winks at me, his mouth slanted up in the sexiest smile.
I let out a shaky breath. This flirty thing between us is going really, really well.
He gets pulled into a conversation with his teammates. For the rest of the night, he’s busy talking to them or his coaches. I chat with Anna and Poppy.
When dinner finally ends, we all walk out of the restaurant.
“Who’s up for an after-party at our house?” Nick asks the group. We all say yes.
Since it’s a busy Saturday night, it’s harder to find an available rideshare. We all end up piling into a minivan.
I’m in the back with Anna and Poppy, while Blake, Nick, and Travis are smashed together in the middle seat. Leo is sitting in the front with the driver.
“Is that your hand on my ass, Blakey-boy?” Nick says.
I burst out laughing.
Blake rolls his eyes while smiling. “You wish, St. George.”
Nick pats Blake’s cheek. “I didn’t know I was your type.”
We all laugh. Travis rolls his eyes.
We make it back to the house. Half the hockey team arrives a few minutes later, ready to party. Everyone starts pouring drinks and taking shots.
Nick sets up a game of beer pong on the table in their dining room.
“Blake and Briar! It’s you versus me and Leo!” he hollers.
Blake looks down at me. “Ready to take them down?”
I grab the red solo cup from his hand and sip from the spot he sipped from. Heat flickers in his eyes.
I smile. “So ready.”