Chapter Two #3
“Katie,” said the blonde. “This is Leah.”
They all shook hands, and within ninety seconds Elliot was doing what his mom said he did best, after hockey: running his mouth.
He talked about the pineapple on the chalkboard outside.
He talked about how he’d gotten lost walking back to his hotel this morning.
How he’d missed his flight. A table opened up and the four of them slid in as Elliot rattled off a spiel about the charity event, glossing over the details – partly because he didn’t want Katie to call him a pig, partly because he didn’t remember them.
Bennet said three things the entire time. He said hi. He said, “Thanks, I’ll try it,” when Leah recommended a beer. And after Katie made a racy comment that made him laugh: “You’re a menace.”
Katie blushed and Elliot fixed Bennet in his glare. He’d been working on Katie. He’d been doing all the work, period. Girls always dropped their panties for the guy who said nothing all night and then came out with one line.
Apparently it had worked, because when Bennet stood to go to the bar, Katie watched him go and said, “He’s cute.”
Elliot grit his teeth. “Yeah, he’s a real catch.”
Bennet came back with the drinks and Elliot slid over to make room for him. But Dustin stopped at the table and gestured with his elbow as he said to Leah, “So…I don’t know how to say this without sounding totally disrespectful, but: I was wondering if you’d mind if I sat next to Katie?”
Leah flicked her eyes to Elliot’s with a little smile. “I don’t mind.”
Elliot tried to telegraph That one was mine to Bennet as he sat, but Bennet just returned his glare with a smirk. Then he tipped his glass toward Elliot and winked.
And Elliot’s stomach went, unexpectedly, “Hey there!”
Elliot jolted.
What the fuck? That hadn’t happened in a really long time. He looked away quickly and picked up his beer.
“So.” He turned to Leah. “Tell me about Seattle.”
It was midnight when they spilled out onto the sidewalk.
Leah turned out to be great: when they’d gotten down to talking, Elliot had discovered she was a hockey fan.
A Krakens fan, but he could look past that if the girl was hot enough – which she was.
She was adamant that there truly was a kraken in the Puget Sound; she’d even pulled out her phone to show him a real species called the Giant Pacific Octopus.
She was doing a PhD in marine biology, she said, with a flirty little wink: she knew these things.
She also knew who Elliot was, and it was clear that sleeping with him was something she was extremely interested in doing.
Weirdly, this bummed him out: it made him feel like he wasn’t winning the game against Bennet at all.
He hadn’t wooed anyone – this girl just wanted to fuck him because he was a hockey player.
‘Girl’ was probably the wrong word. She was definitely older than him.
The street was quiet, and Leah tucked her hand into the crook of Elliot’s elbow as they went up the block. Elliot could see Bennet’s hand on the small of Katie’s back ahead of them, and tried not to be bothered by it.
At the corner, Bennet turned and said, “She’s that way.”
“Cool,” said Elliot.
Leah said, “Mine’s the other way.”
“Cool,” Elliot said again, and Bennet’s eyes flicked to his.
“We should do this again sometime,” said Bennet.
Do what? Elliot wanted to ask. Pretend to like each other so we can fuck someone the other guy was trying to fuck?
He was so ticked off by Bennet stealing his girl that by the time they got back to Leah’s, he no longer wanted to fuck her.
He kept seeing Bennet’s stupid smug face in his head, and it was massively killing his boner.
He made an excuse and left her at the door, and went down the street to wait for an Uber somewhere else.
In the Uber, he pulled out his phone to check the American Airlines app.
He still hadn’t booked a flight home. Sighing, he looked out the window at the sleeping city.
His driver was listening to bachata very quietly, and Elliot hummed a line he recognized.
It took him straight back to Miami – to his uncle’s house where he stayed during summers in the JHL.
And suddenly he thought, I could just spend the summer here.
It was a totally random flash of an idea, and Elliot blinked as it came to him.
Was that crazy? Bennet did it, which meant there were vetted facilities.
He’d already missed his flight. His mom would be disappointed, but she’d understand.
And he liked it here. It was funky and the weather was good and the girls wanted to fuck him.
He opened Instagram and searched Dustin Bennet.
The profile had a blue checkmark and three point six million followers.
Rolling his eyes to indicate he was not impressed, Elliot tapped the profile, followed it, wondered briefly if this would even work, because Bennet probably didn’t manage his own social media, and sent a DM anyway:
@ElliotTheKingOfHockey: what’s the name of the gym here?