And if Dom and Micah knew, then Ally and Josie did, which meant Harper would end up finding out. Not that I was really concerned—my boys always had my back—but the more people who knew, the higher chance of someone outing us. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell Dani that. I knew she was already on the fence with everything.
The bell over the front door rang and Dani walked in, glancing around the bakery before spotting me. Her smile was tight, but I wasn’t about to take offense to that. She had every right to be prickly and upset with the turn of events. I wasn’t mad that I shot Jenzy down, but I had to admit I could have been smarter about it. Then again, nobody said hockey players were nuanced. That prick needed to be put in his place for talking about Dani like he could easily just have her back, like she was some sort of fucking trophy. Misogynistic dick.
Even with her not beaming at me, she was gorgeous, with wavy auburn hair that fell past her shoulders and full lips that I was on board with kissing again. I shifted in my seat. I even liked her snarky comebacks. Was it weird that I wanted to tease her just to see those beautiful green eyes glare at me?
I chuckled.
Probably.
But I was a goalie and we were weird, so it tracked.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said when she got close to me. “I’m just going to grab a coffee. Need anything?”
“Nope, I’m good. And I got snacks to share.” I smiled and lifted a plate that held a few of my favorite cookies and treats.
“Okay, thanks.” She walked up to the counter to place her order and waited for the barista to finish her drink.
Less than a minute later, she was back and sat down at the seat across from me, an iced coffee in hand. “That’s a lot of sweets.” She nodded to the plate.
“Coach would kill me if I ate the whole plate, so you have to help.” I gave her a wink, and her eyes widened as she took her first sip.
“They have the best coffee here,” she said.
“And cookies. The iced snickerdoodle is my favorite.”
Her smile was friendlier than before. “Seriously? That’s my favorite, too. I grabbed one yesterday on the way to work.”
“See? We’re clearly meant for each other,” I joked.
Having just taken another sip, she sputtered and then coughed.
Shit. Why had I said that? It made no sense.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“And I just meant that we have similar tastes so we should be friends. Then it’ll be easy to fake date.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Based on a cookie preference?”
“I just want to make this painless as possible.”
“Ouch. Okay.”
“I didn’t mean that for me, I meant for you. Can we start over?”
“Okaaay,” she drew out.
Wow. I was acting stellar over here.
“Hi. I’m Gabe Tucker, and we like the same cookies, so I think we could be friends. And I would love to help you show yourex that you’re not going back to him by fake dating you if that works for you since he seems to be a stupid asshole.” I paused. “Better?”
“Uh, not really.”
But her lips tilted up in very small smile, so I was taking that as progress.
“This is never going to work,” she added.
