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She blinks at me a moment, and I think she might be getting ready to call an usher to have me removed, but then she gives me a radiant smile and yells “Hockey virgin!” at the top of her lungs while pointing at me.
Everyone within a twenty-foot radius turns their eyes on me and I just want to sink into my seat and die.
Then Monica puts her arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you everything. You’ll be a pro by the end of the game. ”
Just then a tapping noise gets our attention and we turn to the ice. I feel Monica’s body freeze next to mine as our eyes rise to the player standing on the other side of the glass, hitting the end of his stick against it to get our attention.
Okay, now that is holy f**king hotness right there.
Alex stands there, his hair slightly sweaty around his temples but otherwise looking like a sex god staring at me. His blue eyes are intent as they caress me, and I feel my breath falter within my lungs. He’s utterly beautiful, making that other dude, Garrett, look like a reject.
Flashing me a small smile, Alex shoots me a wink and then skates off. I stare after him, noting that the number on his jersey is 67, and I wonder if it has any significance.
“Holy shit, girl,” Monica wheezes as if she can’t get her breath. “Alex Crossman just eye-fucked you in front of the entire arena. ”
“What?” I practically shriek as her words penetrate my hazy brain. “No way. ”
“Yes way,” she murmurs appreciatively. “You could so hook up with him if you wanted. I mean, he may be the MVP of this team, but I’d do him in a heartbeat. ”
“MVP?” I ask lamely, because I have no clue what that means.
“Most valuable prick,” she says matter-of-factly. “He’s a complete ass**le to the fans. Rumor has it an ass**le to his team as well. But God, he’s like the hottest player in the entire league, so I could definitely overlook that. ”
“Huh” is all I can manage to reply, as my eyes find Alex again and I watch him warming up. He’s fluidly graceful on his skates, his hair flying out behind him as he whizzes by once more. He never looks back at me again, but that’s okay by me. I can’t afford to continually be beaten over the head by his magnificence, particularly with Monica sitting next to me ready to have a fit every time a player looks our way.
Finally, the warm-ups finish, the national anthem is played and then the game starts.
And I am freakin’ hooked.
I sit on the edge of my seat the entire time, my eyes hungrily soaking up the action. It’s a super-fast game and sometimes I have a hard time even following the puck. The first time the Cold Fury scores, I don’t even realize the puck has gone in the net, and I have no clue it’s Alex who actually scores. The only reason I come to find that out is that Monica is screaming that she wants to have his babies.
While Monica does spend much of the game screaming in my ear and yelling obscenities at the players from the other team, she also takes the time to explain the game to me when she can. I now at least understand what offsides means and I’m starting to catch on to the concept of a power play. I still don’t understand the penalties, and I surely don’t understand why you’re allowed to fight in a game that penalizes you for doing so, but it’s exhilarating watching as one of the Cold Fury players drops his gloves and faces off with an opponent at mid-ice. The fans go nuts when the fight starts, surging to their feet.
And while I very much want to see the action of the fight, my eyes can’t help wandering over to Alex, who is sitting on the bench. He isn’t even watching his teammate beat the crap out of the other player but rather seems to be looking down at his lap, completely uninterested in the brawl.
I tear my eyes off him, because sadness wells up inside of me as I remember how he had told me he hates to play hockey. It hurts too much to watch him and then think that although he may be an ass**le, he may have a very good reason to be that way. Just the thought makes me want to wrap him up in a hug and soothe his pain.
The game speeds by in a haze, and long before the final buzzer sounds and the Cold Fury is about to celebrate a 4-2 win over the other team, I am officially obsessed with this sport. I spend a few moments jumping up and down with Monica, our arms wrapped around each other in excitement over the win.
Many of the fans start leaving while some stay in their seats, but before I can ask Monica why, I hear the announcer’s voice come over the loudspeaker.
Tonight’s game’s most valuable player, with two goals and three assists: number sixty-seven, Alexander Crossman.
The fans erupt and I watch as Alex steps out onto the ice and does a slow skate around the lower half of the rink closest to our seats. He has his helmet off and his hair is soaking wet. He skates holding his stick raised high up in the air in salute to the fans, and they go crazy over it.
When he approaches the glass by our seats, I’m clapping exuberantly and Monica is again offering up her ovaries to him. Alex has his head tilted up, looking up at the fans in the sections above ours, but when he gets to where I’m seated, he comes to a stop on the other side of the glass and brings his gaze to mine.
Monica shrieks beside me but I don’t turn to look at her. My eyes are pinned by Alex’s.
He mouths the words Thirty minutes? to me while pointing to an imaginary watch on his wrist.
I nod at him and he holds my gaze a moment longer, then pushes off to complete his lap and head back to the locker room.
“Oh, you bitch,” Monica squeals as she wraps me up in a suffocating hug. “You’re going to hook up with Alex Crossman. I’m so jealous. ”
“No, I’m not,” I immediately deny. “I’m just meeting him over at Hoolihan’s across the street. It’s a business meeting. ”
Monica looks at me skeptically. “Business meeting?”
“Yeah, we’re working on an anti-drug outreach program together. He gave me the ticket to the game, but we’re meeting just for business. ”
Monica’s eyes light up as her arms come up, pushing at me to leave the aisle. “Perfect. You can hook me up with him, then. ”
“What? Wait. No,” I protest, turning my head over my shoulder, even as Monica starts to push me up the stairs. “I have a business meeting to attend. You can’t come. I’m not going to hook you up. ”
“Of course you are,” Monica says, trampling all over my righteous indignation and giving me another push in my lower back to pick up my pace. “It’s the least you can do after I just taught you all about the game. ”
With a sigh, I move a little faster, wondering if I can possibly break out into a run and lose my new shadow. Wouldn’t matter, though. Without thinking, I told her where I was meeting Alex, so I know she’s going to just show up come hell or high water.
Oh, well. Maybe I can make a quick introduction, they’ll fall instantly in love and exchange phone numbers, and then we can get to work.
Except…just the thought of Alex hooking up with Monica gives me belly rumblings and I have to wonder why. The guy has been nothing but a jerk to me. Sure, he’s given me some intense stares and he’s like the most perfect specimen of a man I’ve ever seen, but that alone shouldn’t cause me to have any feelings for him.
Besides, I need to focus on whether or not I actually have any feelings left for Brandon from which we could possibly build something again. Dinner the other night was nice. We spent a lot of time just catching up on each other’s lives, and the conversation was light.
“So, tell me about the work you’re doing at the crisis center,” Brandon had said in between bites of the spicy tuna roll we were sharing.
“It’s really rewarding,” I had told him after a sip of warm sake. “The center provides free counseling for low-income people. Of course, I adore the kids I work with. ”
“Of course you do,” he said with an affectionate smile. “It’s your passion. ”
He knows me…knows all about my fat
her and what drives me to do what I do. We had no secrets between us when we were together.
“Are you seeing anyone now?” he asked casually, giving nothing away as to whether my answer was even important or not.
Shaking my head, I told him, “No. You?”
“Completely single,” he confirmed for me, a fact that did not cause a flood of pleasure to course through me. In fact, I didn’t feel much at all in response to his revelation.
We didn’t discuss our relationship, or lack of one, but at the end of the evening, Brandon gave me a warm kiss on my forehead just before he hugged me, and asked me out again, to which I said yes.
I have no clue what it all means. At dinner, I had expected to be hit with a rush of warm feelings based on years of wonderful memories. Instead, I didn’t really feel much at the end of the evening other than a general fondness for Brandon. He was my first love—and I do know it was love. But I’m not sure it was the type of love that was destined to last through the ages. I’m thinking it was maybe more of a “young love” type of thing. That would surely explain the way I moved past it fairly quickly and why I’m not filled with joy to reconnect with him.
So, I’m not having the strongest of feelings for Brandon, but I most definitely should not be having any feelings about Alex Crossman. Not only was he a prick—the most valuable, if the rumors are to be believed—but I might have a chance to reconnect with a lost soul mate. No way am I going to ruin that over some silly celebrity crush.
Not a crush.
A definite appreciation of the male species, but not a crush, I correct myself.
With Monica pushing and prodding me the entire way, we make it out of the arena and to Hoolihan’s in ten minutes. We’re able to get a booth in the back and order drinks, despite the huge crowd that has filtered over after the game. Monica is sipping on a beer, me a sweet tea, patiently waiting for Alex to show up.
“So, how long have you known Alex?” Monica asks, her head turning every two minutes to the door to see if he walks in.
“Just a few days. This is only our second meeting,” I tell her as I sip my tea.
“I cannot believe you are not going to tap that,” she says in wonder. “You already have a boyfriend?”
“No. Yes. I mean, maybe. I’ve reconnected with an old boyfriend recently and we’re working on things. ”
“Ah,” she says in understanding. “First love?”
“First and only,” I tell her softly. “We’ve sort of been on a break over the last year. ”
“Well, lucky for me because I swear I thought Alex would be taking you home tonight. The way he was looking at you from out on the ice. ”
“He wasn’t looking at me from the ice. Just that one time to say hello and acknowledge me,” I say with exasperation.
“Girl, you are either absolutely clueless or absolutely blind,” she says while rubbing her finger along the rim of her pint glass.
“What do you mean?” I ask skeptically.
“That boy couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked at you every time he skated by, and half the time he was on the bench he kept looking over at you. ”
“You’re mistaken,” I tell her confidently. Besides, I was watching Alex during the game. He didn’t look at me at all.
Except…the only times I was looking at him was when he had the puck, and then, there was no way he could have looked at me because he was concentrating on the play. But I didn’t look at him past that. I followed the puck and the game, not even thinking about staring at Alex the way Monica apparently was.
“Scoot over. ”
I hear the man of my thoughts before I even see him, as I have been staring pretty intently at my sweet tea. Raising my head, I see Alex standing there wearing a charcoal gray dress suit paired with a crisp, white business shirt opened at the collar. I assume he dresses up for game days, but he must have forgone putting a tie on.