Page 46 of Trade Deadline

He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable at having gone there. But I’m not going to hold his past against him. We all have one and it’d be unfair of me to judge him based on that.

It’s how he treats me going forward that matters.

Just please don’t treat me like the rest.

I swallow down the niggling feeling in my gut and change the subject.

“Is it nice having Elliot on the same team as you now? I read something that mentioned you’ve dreamed of being on the same team since you were kids?”

He nods, his face lighting up at the mention of his brother. “Fuck yeah, it’s been our dream since we were like four years old. In all our school projects where the teacher would ask you things like ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’, we’d write 'hockey players on the same NHL team’. We even went to the same college because we couldn’t bear the thought of being separated, but then I signed with Chicago, and moved end of junior year.”

“That must have been really hard on both of you.”

“Yeah, it sucked because it was the first time in our entire lives we had been separated, but we didn’t give up hope. He signed as a free agent after he graduated and spent a few years in the AHL before moving up to play for Vancouver two seasons ago, and when his contract was up in the summer, Thunder snapped him up instantly.” He snaps his fingers. “It was fate, in a way.”

“Doughty retired last season, right?”

He smiles softly. “Good memory; yeah, he did, and Coach mentioned he’d been keeping an eye on Elliot throughout the years. He knew Elliot would be a great addition for the team, with it being a family-oriented head office and all.”

I’ve read a lot about the Thunder organization being family-run and passed down through generations, so it was nice to hear they also took their players' family lives into consideration, even if Blaine and Elliot’s situation is rare.

The waiter comes to clear the plates, asking if we’d like to order dessert. There’s no way I can eat another thing, so I thank Blaine when he orders us another beer. Time slips away from us as we chat, and when the waiter returns again, he has a sheepish look on his face and is holding the bill. “I’m so sorry, guys, but we’re closing now.”

Blaine looks at his watch. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t realize the time.” He places his card inside the binder and hands it over to the waiter.

“What time do you start work tomorrow?” He asks when the waiter disappears.

“My alarm is set for four, and I normally get to the shop around five to help Jacob with the prep for the day before we open at nine.”

Blaine’s face drops. “Fuck, it’s past midnight. You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“It’s okay, it’s been worth it,” I confess.

His face morphs into the widest smile. “Yeah?”

I nod, smiling. “Yeah, I’d say one of the top three best dates I’ve been on.”

“Top three?” He practically growls. “I wanna be first. I’m gonna make the next one better.”

The next one?

“You wanna see me again?” I don’t mean for the surprise or slight insecurity to filter into my voice.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He pauses for a beat. “I mean, if you wanna see me again, that is.”

Blaine Olsen, notorious playboy, suddenly becomes unsure and shy. It’s fucking adorable.

I chuckle. “Yeah, I do.”

He lets out a relieved breath, smiling shyly.

As the waiter returns for a final time with Blaine’s card and the receipt, we thank him for the incredible food and service. I pull out my wallet to leave a tip, wanting to at least contribute something to this amazing evening. I scribble “cash” on the receipt.

“The next date will be on me,” I smile.

The drive back home is over too quickly, and before I know it, Blaine is parking his Range Rover next to the curb outside my house. He unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face me. I mirror his position, butterflies swarming like crazy in my stomach.

“I’ve had an incredible night tonight,” he states.

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