“I won’t tell,” I say, sliding my fork into the meat. “But I have to ask—why even bring me on for strategy if you’re just gonna eat Taco Bell? Pack it up, McKenzie. No way your team is going to the Stanley Cup.”
Luca is chuckling in that quiet way he does, shoulders moving, head shaking, like he can’t believe he gave in. “It’s kind of a…tradition. Used to do it in high school, after wins.”
“With Cal?”
His eyes meet mine. “Sometimes. But mostly, I’d just do it for myself. Love the food, but I know it’s not like, performance fuel. So I decided I could only have it after a win.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, fuck you.”
“Excuse me?” he laughs, eyebrows shooting up. “Forwhat?”
I barely resist the urge to say,For literally anything. For fun.
“Even your, like, bad behavior is disciplined! It’s not like you lost control of yourself and just had to have Taco Bell. You literallyplanwhen to break your diet—I don’t think that even counts as breaking it, then.”
“Are you saying I should be more impulsive?” He delivers this line roughly, his eyes dropping to my lips, and it makes a jolt of adrenaline run through me.
“I’m not saying anything.” I finally put the bite of meat in my mouth, just for something else to focus on other than the way he’s looking at me right now. “I’m—oh,fuck, that’s good—try yours.”
He seems to realize he still has it on his fork too, and after taking the bite, we’re silent for a moment, each gobbling up our little cubes of beef. This time, when the server returns, he’s smug.
“Good?” he prompts, and when we nod eagerly, he collects the plates. “I’ll be back with the next course.”
“I want to ask for that again,” Luca says, looking longingly at the server as he disappears around the corner.
“Do it,” I encourage, leaning back in my chair, “might as well get something out of this night.”
Luca
It’s when Wren and I are leaving the restaurant, laughing about the server’s face when we asked for three more of the perfect meat cubes, that Wren spots the paparazzo.
According to her, he’s trailing behind us at a distance, his camera hanging around his neck.
“Maybe someone recognized you in the restaurant,” she says, reaching into her clutch quickly and swiping more lipstick over her lips. How she manages to do it perfectly, and without a mirror, is completely beyond me. “This isgreat.”
“I don’t think most people would describe being followed by the press asgreat,” I argue when we get to the crosswalk and have towait for our light. I’d wanted to get the car and go straight back to the hotel room, but Wren insisted she needed to walk around to help her digest the wagyu.
“Well, it means this night wasn’t a complete waste,” she mutters, glancing over her shoulder subtly, then turning back, looking nearly giddy. “Perfect, come here.”
I’m just in the middle of thinking this nightisn’ta waste. That, secretly, I’ve wanted to try out that restaurant forever, but each time we came to L.A., the other guys either wanted to go out to a sports bar or just drink in a hotel suite. That none of them—especially Callum—would enjoy the experience of trying a bunch of small plates like I would. And that after a few times of bringing Mandy, trying to make polite conversation, I realized that it would be better not to go at all.
I’m right in the middle of these thoughts when Wren grabs my arm, hefts me to the side, and pulls me into an alleyway.
“Push me against the wall,” she whispers, frantically, eyes darting to the opening of the alleyway.
My heart stutters, then seems to stop in my chest. “What?”
Her face turns back to me, her eyes wide and dark, so many shades of green and gold and blue, lips hypnotic as she says, “Luca—push me against the wall. Quick, before he—”
It’s like my body is tired of my brain being in the way. I step forward, grabbing her by the hips and pinning her against thebrick wall. My breath comes quick, and the moment my body presses to hers, our hips lining up, I’m hard.
And I’m certain Wren can feel me against her.
All this, despite the fact that we’re in a filthy alleyway. Despite the fact that under any other circumstance, I wouldnotbe turned on right now.
She lets out a little noise at the impact, and when she looks up at me, it’s with this breathless, impossible expression.
Like shewantsme to kiss her.
