Page 18 of Blindside Love

“Who?” I ask, but as she flips her phone around to show me the picture, and I’m floored. It’s Trevor. But not like I’m used to seeing him.

He’s wearing a New York Cyclones jersey as he skates on the ice. He’s a professional hockey player.

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right. Your next-door neighbor is a legend on the ice. He’s played for the New York Cyclones for at least eleven years and still holds the record for most goals scored in a single season. No wonder he’s such a hottie. I told you that you needed to ride that.”

“Shut it, Natalie, I’m processing.”

Why does this make everything feel more extreme? This guy is in the public eye—like my ex, albeit in very different ways—but he’s interested in me. I’m no idiot, I know these athletes often have women all around throwing themselves at them. Yet, it’s me he seems to be focusing his attention on. I mean, hell, he invited me to his game, and for some reason, that feels really important.

“Process faster, let’s go eat and talk about hockey butts.”

Chapter 8

Trevor

Wing Wednesday is always the highlight of my week.

Between hockey games, practices, and trying to have a social life, the guys and I are rarely able to make it here for wing night, but this week, it worked out perfectly.

Our favorite bar, Hudson’s, does all-you-can-eat wings and beer until close on Wednesdays with easily fifty different sauces and rubs to choose from. It’s absolutely incredible, even if they only serve shitty beers. Sawyer, Cassie, and Gwen have even joined us before.

Gwen surprised us all when she put down three full orders of wings, two of which were in the spiciest sauce they have.

It was impressive as fuck. I tried one wing and immediately chugged my beer because it was so spicy.

But tonight, I’m here, and my head is going a million miles an hour. Has been ever since Ellie accepted the tickets for tomorrow night’s game. I’m so damn excited.

“Can I get you boys another round of wings?” our waitress, Sandy asks, her usual friendly smile in place. She’s used to our shenanigans; we’ve been coming to her for years.

“Yes, please!” Miles says as he licks his thumb clean of BBQ sauce.

“Perfect, I’ll bring out another random bunch, and before you even ask, I’ll make sure there’s extra ranch and none of that ‘Bleu cheese’ bullshit.”

“That’s why we love you, Ms. Sandy. You’re our favorite,” Harris says with a grin.

“Oh honey, that may work on the younger girls, but your smile just screams trouble to me, and not the kind of trouble Mr. Wilson would be too happy to find me in,” she says as she swats Harris’s shoulder.

He smiles even wider. “I’m wounded,” he says with a laugh as he goes back to his wings.

We’ve already been here for an hour and done the usual bullshitting about hockey. Rex may be the coach of another team, but we’ve all played together long enough to know each other’s ticks on the ice, so it’s nice to just vent and let off steam together.

Tonight’s big topic was how Harris has been fighting lately, much more than usual. He’s been known to drop his gloves every now and then, but lately, it’s been like every game he’s getting thrown into the sin bin.

When Rex brought it up, he shrugged it off and said the guys deserved it. He’s been weird ever since Mama Lockwood’s gala, and none of us have been able to figure it out. I know he ran into his ex, Avery, that night, but he hasn’t said much about it. He clams up every time she’s brought up. It probably didn’t help matters that she came in with a man who her father mentioned would be proposing soon.

But I’m not going to force him to talk. I know how hard it can be when you’re trying to deal with shit on your own. Your own disappointments. He knows we are all here for him, and he’ll talk when he’s ready.

“So, how’s everything going with the neighbor girl?” Cade asks, stopping my thoughts in their tracks. When I look up at him, he has a shit-eating grin as he bites into a piece of celery smothered in ranch. Whoever said celery is mostly water has obviously never met Cade. His celery is a spoon for his ranch.

“Is this the girl with the, um, rather unfortunate moving box mishap?” Miles questions.

Fuck, I was not ready for this interrogation.

“The one and only,” Rex says with a grin as he leans back in his chair, drinking beer and trying to forget the burn of the extra spicy wings. “Although, I wouldn’t say it was unfortunate based on the look on Trev’s face right now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, unable to stop myself from grinning, but I refuse to let Rex see it, so I bow my head. He’ll push until he gets the information he wants, but I’m gonna make his pushy ass work for it.

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