Page 52 of Matched with the Player

“Excuse me,” she tried to pass a hulking guy twice her size, her words didn’t carry high enough to the giant’s ears over the doo-wop song playing. “Excuse me,” she tried again.

When the giant turned, she recognized Kyle’s foster bother, Axel Rankin, from the game she’d seen in Pittsburgh. And, of course, the games she’d watched at home on her television when the Phantoms played in Tampa and Ottawa. Marissa was reading up on hockey in her spare time and now understood the positions better.

“Hello Axel,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Marissa Collins, Kyle’s… friend.”

The big guy was already shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he returned politely, keeping her hand and tugging her closer to guide her through the crowd. “Let me get you a drink. The crowd is starting to really pile in.”

“Um…” She noticed Axel didn’t have any trouble bypassing the guests circling the bar. “Okay.”

Axel got pats on the back and cheers wherever he went. People raised their glasses and wished him good luck in the playoffs.

“Congratulations on making it to the playoffs,” she turned toward his ear and arched up on her toes to say it, hoping the message made it a foot above her head. “You’re the man of the hour.”

“Yeah, me and twenty-two other guys. Thanks.” He shouldered by another player who was next in line and deposited Marissa behind him.

Where she couldn’t see a thing thanks to another massive set of shoulders. Damn it. Was Kyle really up there?

She turned to apologize to whoever she’d cut in the line and found Stacy Goodwell grinning ear to ear.

“Hi,” she gave a little wave, but didn’t hug Marissa right away. Which seemed strange until Marissa realized she was on camera. “Act natural,” Stacy stage whispered.

Isaac stood beside the line, filming them with a small, handheld camera.

“What’s going on?” Marissa asked, stepping outside the line to try and see around the player in front of her.

Too bad Axel was right there to crowd in front of her. Honestly, was this some kind of conspiracy? She adjusted her glasses on her nose and tried not to let them rattle her. Pivoting to Stacy and Isaac, she prepared to squeeze the answers out of her friends when…

“Can I help you?”

The familiar baritone rumbled warm and engaging. Just the way it had the first time she’d heard Kyle’s voice. The crowd had magically thinned between her and the bar. The player who’d been blocking her view – and Axel Rankin- had both disappeared until she stood face to face with the man she loved. The man who’d rendered her absolutely speechless the first time she’d looked at him.

He watched her now, green eyes alert as if he studied an opponent he needed to watch carefully. The gash on his jaw remained red, but the stitches were gone and the swelling had diminished.

“Seltzer over ice,” she blurted, forgetting all about the words she’d rehearsed. The practical, well-reasoned plan for why they could still make this work.

“Seltzer on the rocks coming up.” He took his time getting out the bottle, ignoring the line behind her.

Actually, Axel came to the rescue there, entering the spot behind the bar next to Kyle and calling for the next in line.

Kyle and Marissa shifted down to the end of the serving station while he poured her drink. Beside her, Marissa heard Stacy order a wine spritzer as she chatted with Isaac, so Marissa guessed that her awkward apology to Kyle wouldn’t end up on a new post on Diva No More, thank goodness.

“How have you been?” she asked Kyle while he turned to put the ice in the glass.

“My level of play is down but the rest of the team is playing well. Ax has had a goal in each of the last two games now that he’s not feeding me the puck all the time. I’m happy for him.” He passed Axel a bottle of vodka from underneath the counter, apparently tuned in to whatever the next patron had requested.

“I’m sorry if I had anything to do with… that is, I’m sorry for what happened in Pittsburgh.” She twisted the chain on her purse, hoping she had the chance to explain that she’d been emotionally burned out and not thinking clearly.

What if he shut her down without hearing her out? What if he’d already moved on? The thought made her stomach knot, the butterfly fluttering turning to cold dread.

“I was having a lot of fun until you bailed out on me.” He handed her the seltzer in a champagne flute, the bubbles still fizzing high above the rim.

He took his time pouring a matching glass – for him? – making her wonder if he might join her for a drink. Heaven knew, Axel looked plenty capable of taking over the bartending duties as he flirted with an elderly lady, putting extra cherries in her coke.

“I think I might have had a panic attack,” she admitted. “Or maybe I was just overwrought seeing you get hurt. And while I don’t want to make excuses,” she moved her purse off the bar after another woman put her elbow on it. “I suspect the stress from losing the matchmaking gig and trying to find a way to help my mom had been eating away at me for a while before I panicked with you.”

“It probably wouldn’t have been healthy to be with a guy who made you worry so much.” He dropped a couple of cubes in his own drink.

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