Alex (Cold Fury Hockey #1)(66)

Still, after our conversation last night about his "first kiss," I've been thinking a lot about Alex and the burdens he carries in his soul. I was shocked and disgusted that his father would remove his childhood and then try to replace it with a whore. It's despicable and I hope to God I never have the pleasure of meeting the man. Of course, the likelihood of that happening is slim, because while I believe Alex is developing feelings for me, he still remains closed tight as a clam when it comes to much of his personal life. 

We girls order a round of beer-their first and my second-and we continue our play-by-play of the game. I find myself enjoying their company, even Monica's overt exuberance for all things that make up hot hockey players. It doesn't even bother me-that much-when she waxes poetic about how beautiful Alex's eyes are. I sort of have to agree with her.

After an hour, my second beer is gone and I'm into my third. I've checked my watch only about a dozen times in the last ten minutes and my text messages just as often. No word from Alex, and I'm starting to think that he's going to be a no-show. I'm hoping it's just because he's bummed about the game and not because after two nights of glorious, sweaty sex, he's decided to move on from me.

God, I hope he hasn't decided that. The thought makes my stomach hurt, which makes me realize that my feelings run pretty damn deep where Alex is concerned.

Glancing at the door to the bar one more time, I don't see Alex and my bladder is close to bursting, so I lean over to Monica and tell her I'm heading to the restroom. I hope if she sees Alex come in while I'm gone she'll let him know where I'm at. Turning away from her, I start to head toward the bathroom when someone grabs my elbow and pulls me backward. I can't even get my body turned to see who has me when strong arms circle around my waist and I'm being drawn back into a tall, hard male body that smells faintly of citrus and eucalyptus. It's the scent of Alex's body wash and I immediately relax backward into his embrace, placing my hands over his arms as they enclose me completely.

He hugs me … tightly … possessively, and relief courses through me because in all honesty, I had some doubts about how real these feelings between us were. Putting his mouth near my ear, he murmurs, "I've missed you."

Turning my body, I snake my arms up and wrap them around his neck. "I missed you too."

"Sorry I'm late," he says, his face hovering over mine. "Coach gave us a 'pep talk' after the game."

My eyebrows rise in question and Alex clarifies. "That means 'ass-chewing.' "

"Oh," I say softly, my fingers rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry about the game. I thought you might be bummed and not want to hang tonight."

Rubbing his thumb along the waistband of my jeans, he says, "I am bummed but two things you should know about that. First, no matter how bummed I am about losing a game, I imagine being with you will make everything better. And second, it's been a long time since I've been sad over a loss. I think that says something, don't you?"

His blue eyes search mine for understanding, because he wants to know if I get him. And oh, do I get him. I get what he's saying. I get that he's found some passion for his craft again, because otherwise he wouldn't give a shit about a loss. It's odd that the fact he's bummed over a loss warms my heart.

"I think it speaks volumes," I tell him, standing on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. He has to bend slightly to meet my lips, and when mine lie against his, I revel in how soft they are yet still firm against me.

It's just me and him, standing here in this crowded bar, and it feels like the rest of the universe is a million miles away. I wish the rest of the universe was a million miles away, and it could just be me and Alex, right at this very moment, because the tenderness and longing revealed in the way his mouth touches mine makes me want to seclude myself in the feeling, without anything else to divert my attention.



       
         
       
        

"God, you two need to get a room," I hear a man say. Alex groans slightly into my mouth before he pulls back and turns to look at someone to my left. The slight lift to Alex's lips tells me he's amused.

"Fuck off, Samuelson," he growls, but he's not really mad. He releases his hold around my waist just enough to turn me toward a man I know is Garrett Samuelson, Alex makes official introductions. "Garrett … this is Sutton. Sutton … this asshole is Garrett."

Smiling warmly, I stick my hand out for Garrett to shake. Alex stiffens slightly next to me when Garrett takes my hand and brings it to his lips, grazing them over my knuckles. With a devilish grin and a smoky seductive voice, he says, "It's definitely my pleasure. When you get tired of his grumpy ass, I'll be waiting for you, Sutton."