Tristan's Irreverent Invitation
The sudden appearance of the hockey captain sent the rest of the staff into a hasty exodus, scattering like startled birds.
'Traitors...
Alone in the eye of the storm, Cora searched desperately for a place to hide her gaze, her mind racing. Tristan stepped forward and offered her his credit card alongside a Kitty pouch.
“Coming for the tab and you get to watch this whole show? How funny.”
“I-I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“No excuses needed. Miss Stand-Up Comedian.”
……
He wore the same half-smile he’d flashed after handling Svensson, but the steel-blue eyes were completely devoid of warmth.
This is going to be a long night.
Cora clutched the card with trembling fingers and turned toward the counter, ready to flee.
She slid behind the bar, pressed the POS system, and her fingertips trembled with embarrassment and unease.
He was never around when I was looking… and now he shows up at exactly the wrong moment?
After processing the tab, she glanced over and spotted Tristan already seated in a booth across the room, scrolling through the menu as if he planned to eat there.
Cora cleared her throat once, then forced a casual smile and carried the card and receipt to his table.
“Here.”
Still staring at the menu, he asked without looking up, “What’s the best thing on here?”
“…You ordering? The most popular items are the buffalo wings and the Philly cheesesteak sandwich.”
Unexpectedly, she’d assumed he only ate the meticulously designed meals his personal sports nutritionist had planned. When he finally set the menu down, he asked, “You thought I’d never eat here, didn’t you?”
The direct hit made Cora bite her lip.
“I’m a hockey player. My staple is plain chicken pasta—carbs and protein.”
“…Haha. Fine. Want me to order chicken pasta?”
“What’s on your favorite menu?”
“…Chili soup?”
That earned him a dry chuckle as he closed the menu and slid it across. “Then that’s what it is.”
“Okay. Drinks?”
“Ginger ale, please.”
As he placed the order, the memory of that icy soda he’d dumped on her thigh days ago flashed through her mind. The thought that this man might be sharpening his knife for her made her skin crawl.
Honestly, I’d rather not get on his bad side. Better to be nice just in case.
Cora forced a sugary smile. “Anything else you need?”
“What’s with that spooky smile?”
“……”
She gave him a thin-lipped, fake smile and held the menu in front of her chest before turning on her heel.
This is so awkward.
Standing at the POS, her finger hovered over the screen to place the kitchen order when the ding of the front door rang out.
She turned her head on instinct and locked eyes with a handsome man whose striking hazel gaze held pure mischief.
Olive skin, sun-kissed and glowing, curly golden-brown hair, and a letterman jacket adorned with a football logo. He carried a massive gym bag and flashed a bright, friendly smile.
“Hola, chicas!”
He dropped into the booth beside her and winked. “Same as always, Cora.”
The friendly Latino grinned wider. “Chasworth’s starting quarterback, Luca Cruz at your service.”
Luca Cruz—campus heartthrob and the hockey captain’s only real rival. A junior with an easy charm and a laugh that could melt ice.
“Hamburger again? Taco Tuesday is today. You skipping tacos?”
Luca’s eyes went wide in mock shock, hand flying to his chest. “Cora! You think I’d eat tacos just because I’m Latino? I’m Argentine, so my soul food is empanadas! Oh man…”
“Oops, sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. Did I offend you?”
Luca burst out laughing. “Hahaha! Look at that face—totally joking! And yeah, I’m a taco maniac. Gotcha.”
“Luca, you—”
“Haha, sorry, Princesa. Shrimp tacos and kimchi tacos for me, with fries and coleslaw on the side.”
“Is your family coming later?”
“Nah… wait, you think I’m eating that much? I’m bulking, Cora. Gotta fill my calories.”
“Wow, so you can eat whatever you want?”
“Exactly. I don’t get fat—I turn everything into muscle. Jealous?”
As they bantered, a prickling stare burned against her cheek. She glanced sideways and found Tristan watching her with open disapproval.
Why does he keep staring?
She tried to ignore it and focus on Luca when Tristan’s low voice cut through the noise.
“Cora.”
“…What?”
“Can you come here for a second?”
Cora approached reluctantly, and he slid his half-eaten bowl toward her. “The meat in the soup is undercooked. Can you go check with the kitchen?”
“H-heck? Okay, sure. I’ll be right back.”
Feeling guilty, she grabbed the bowl and headed to the kitchen, wondering if Tristan would actually complain.
She pushed through the swinging door into the roaring, steamy kitchen. The head chef was hammering a knife against the counter.
“Kitchen called about a complaint!”
The chef didn’t even look up. “Just eat it! What kind of picky ass are you?”
“Hockey captain. Tristan Lockwood. Want me to go tell him myself?”
The chef’s shout died instantly. He glanced at the name, then jerked his chin at the bowl. “Give it here.”
Without a word, he tossed the soup back into the pot and reheated it properly.
Whoa… I’ve never seen the kitchen do that before.
Cora carried the steaming bowl back out and set it in front of Tristan. “Definitely cooked this time. Real sorry. Want coffee on the house?”
“No need. It’s not your fault.”
His surprisingly calm reaction left her blinking, but she nodded and turned to leave.
She was halfway across the room when Luca’s loud, cheerful laugh spilled out. She glanced over and found him holding his phone, grinning at the screen.
“Cora, Cora! Come here for a sec?”
“Huh?”
“My family wants to see your face. Mind if I introduce you?”
Now she noticed Luca was on a video call. The San Diego native had grown up surrounded by a big extended family before joining Chatsworth.
“Me?”
Luca grinned and nodded. Before Cora could refuse, he held the phone up to her face.
Luca adjusted the phone so everyone could see her clearly. “Guys, this is Cora. Say hi!”
On the other end, a cheerful voice echoed, “¡Hola, Cora! We’ve been dying to meet the girl who made our Luca smile this much. Come over to San Diego sometime—we’ll take you out!”
“Absolutely! We’ll show you our favorite tacos and empanadas. And you can tell us how you survived dating our Tristan!”
Tristan’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Cora felt a strange flutter in her chest as she smiled back at the screen.
“I’d love to. Tell me when the invitation arrives.”
Luca’s family laughed warmly, already planning the visit. Tristan’s eyes never left her face, and for the first time that night, his usual smirk softened—just a fraction.