Page 37 of Trade Deadline

Yep, that's right. I’ve been such a good boy that even Coach has been in disbelief, but my game has been on fire, and I’m putting it down to Alex.

I slow down when I near his house. He’s already standing on the porch outside a gray-clad house, a small lamp above the door illuminating him in a soft glow. The light bounces off the top of his blond hair like a halo, and my breath hitches in my throat as I take him in.

He’s too fucking nice for me.

Putting my car into park, my stomach flutters nervously as he takes a few steps down to the sidewalk and heads toward my Range Rover. I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans, and I can’t contain my smile when he opens the car door.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the seat. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are rosy from the cold. He puts his seatbelt on, then shifts in his seat, shoving his hands underneath his thighs.

“Hey.” I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate my next move. Do I kiss him? Do you kiss before a first date, or do you wait until after?

I should have Googled this shit.

“Fuck it,” I mumble under my breath and lean across the center console. Placing my hand on his arm, a shiver runs down my spine as I kiss the corner of his mouth. His skin is cool beneath my lips, and my mind races, wanting to just slide my lips across and find out what his lips taste like, but a car blasts its horn, ruining the moment.

“Fucking asshole,” I grumble.

Alex chuckles, biting his bottom lip. “You might wanna move; they get really angry around here when you block the road.”

“No shit.” I put my foot on the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror to see the angry driver behind me giving me the finger. I hope they hit every red light. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s been pretty quiet, which is good since we’ve had a lot of custom orders to get through, and we had another order from Zach.”

I tip my head back and laugh. “That guy and his donuts. I have no idea how he stays in shape with the way he eats. He’s like the donut monster.”

Alex’s laugh is like melted caramel, so smooth and soft. I want to make him laugh all night because the sound is fucking beautiful.

“Your game last night was incredible.” He turns to face me, and a small crease forms between his brows. “I’m sorry, is it weird I just brought that up?”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “Of course not.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”

“It was a really tough game for us, and I’ll be honest, I don’t like playing against Nashville. They’re always pulling dirty tricks whenever they can, thinking that the officials won’t see it.”

I find myself telling him all about the game. How Zach was tripped, and it went unnoticed by the officials. The slashing, the heavy hits, the melon-sized bruise I now have on my ribs from being boarded, and how the pinching in my hip is keeping me awake at night.

Alex listens so intently. He’s invested in everything I have to say, and I realize for the first time that nobody has ever really paid me this much attention before, outside of family and those who are being paid to. Nobody has really cared about my day.

Yeah, my teammates do, but that’s because we’re in it together. We have each other's backs, and we understand it better than anyone, but aside from that, it’s only really my parents and my twin brother.

I can’t remember the last time anyone new has given a shit aboutme.

And that’s really fucking sad.

Alex fills me in on one of the custom orders they’re doing for a wedding when we pull into the parking lot outside of Neon Tee Party.

We head inside and check in at the front desk. The girl whose name tag readsMaddielets us know the rules and hands over the putters. The entire place is completely dark except for the bright neon lights on the walls, lighting up each individually themed hole. There are dinosaurs, a circus, a forest, space, the ocean, and many more.

“Wow, this place is incredible!” Alex gapes, his eyes wide in amazement as he looks around.

I internally fist bump at the praise. “Yeah? I saw it online and thought it looked pretty cool.”

He slips off his jacket to reveal a navy-blue ribbed Henley that accentuates his broad shoulders and slim torso, the color complimenting his fair skin tone. His skinny jeans sit low on his narrow hips, showing off his long, lean legs, and I nearly swallow my tongue at how hot he is. It takes me a minute to squash down the urge to pull him somewhere private and strip him.

Lord Gretzky, please give me strength.

“It’s really cool. Do you like to play golf?” he asks as we head to the first hole.

---