Out on the Ice (Out in College 5)

“Geez, the guy is a certified monster,” Sky snarked.

“Well, Sue was pissed,” I said, ignoring his sarcasm. “She told her kid every day not to leave his bike outside. And she figured this was a teaching moment. Bikes don’t grow on trees, and Santa doesn’t make summer appearances. Except he did. And if it was a one-time occurrence, it would be sweet. But according to Sue, Harry already replaced a skateboard and a video game for her other kids this year.”

“Hmm. He sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. That’s why we’re having this conversation.” I tapped the table obnoxiously. “I don’t want you to take advantage of the situation. I probably sound paranoid, but you’ve rubbed me the wrong way since day one and—why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

Sky put his hand over his mouth and snickered. “You feed me so many one-liners, and it’s killing me not to use them. Sorry. What were you saying? Something about rubbing the right way…or the wrong way…”

I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair to observe him. I expected a swift return to normal where I’d pick apart all the things I didn’t like about this guy and catalog any show of weakness to use against him if necessary. But I had a hard time getting past his twinkling eyes and his wide smile. I looked away quickly before I did something weird, like blush. And why? ’Cause he made a sex joke? That didn’t make sense.

I refocused and shook my head ruefully. “As I was saying…Harry’s nice, I’m not. And I don’t trust you. I don’t think I like you either.”

“That’s okay. I’m used to people not liking me.”

“It’s not a gay thing, you know,” I assured him.

Sky narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t say it was.”

“Okay. ’Cause I don’t care if you’re gay, and Harry definitely won’t care. He bought a Bi-Pride flag for my best friend when he came out a couple of months ago. To hang in our apartment.”

“Did you?”

“Hang the flag? Fuck, no! I told Elliot to put it in his room. It’s huge. There’s no wall space in there unless he moves his volleyball trophies,” I scoffed.

“Hmm. A volleyball player. Is he single?” Sky asked, raising his brows lasciviously.

“No,” I replied quickly. “Actually I don’t know. He’s seeing a guy named Drew now. I haven’t met him. I thought I heard them in Elliot’s room last night, but maybe he was watching porn. Honestly, I want to get the first meeting over with so we can get past the weirdness.”

“Why is it weird?”

I shrugged carelessly. “It’s new. He had the same girlfriend for years and…it’s something I have to get used to. I don’t care if he’s bi, but it seemed kinda fast and random. I thought he was kidding at first. I said all the wrong things when he came out, like ‘You don’t look gay,’ and ‘Maybe it’s a phase.’ I even told him he should get it out of his system on the DL and not come out officially for a while.”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to insult him.”

“Hmm. What’s he look like? Is he hot? Would I like him?”

I furrowed my brow and shot an exasperated look his way. “I don’t know what you like, and Elliot is off limits anyway.”

“Fine. Is he super tall?”

“Yeah, he’s six foot six and thicker than you’d think a volleyball player would be.”

“Are we talking about his dick or his biceps now?” Sky asked, popping the last bite of his burrito into his mouth.

“What? Christ! What’s the matter with you?” I glanced at our neighboring tables and glared at him. “I am not discussing anyone’s dick size with you, asshole.”

“We can discuss ass instead,” he offered. “Check out that guy next to the door. Very nice rear view.”

“You’re hilarious.” I set my burrito on the wrapper and sucked on my straw, slurping noisily before letting out a belch. I swiped my hand across my mouth. “Why don’t we get back to the interview? Here’s what I know so far…you’re from Idaho, you divorced your wealthy parents, so you’re poor now and need a job. Until the scouts come calling.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums up my life. Minus the drama,” he added with a self-deprecating shrug that was kind of…cute.

Weird thought because Sky wasn’t cute. He was manly, muscular, intense, and model handsome. Looks-wise, he was intimidating as fuck. Not cuddly, adorable, or remotely sweet.

I repeated “Sky’s an asshole” in my head a couple of times and did my best not to stare at his mouth when I asked, “Do you think you have a real chance at going pro?”

“A year ago, I would have said yes, but now…I don’t know anymore. Do you follow baseball at all?”

“Sure. I’m a Tigers fan.”