Page 79 of Trade Deadline

“Why are you looking at Ethan like that?” I say teasingly in his ear.

His head swings to face me. “I… uh... I…” he sighs, letting out a small, deprecating laugh. “It’s just a little surreal for me. I’m sitting in a bar next to a guy I’ve watched play hockey since I was in high school. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird.”

I shake my head. “It’s not weird. I was the same when I first came to Chicago. I had no idea Ethan was picking me up from the airport, and you wanna know the first thing I said to him?”

Alex nods, his eyes sparkling with glee.

“I said, ‘Holy shit, you’re Ethan Parkes; I’ve jerked off to your Sports Illustrated cover’…”

His body shakes with laughter. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope, totally serious. That’s probably the only time I’ve been embarrassed. Twenty-one-year-old me, wet behind the ears, came face to face with my idol, and that was the first thing I said.”

“What did he say?”

“He just blinked at me, then scowled and told me to put on my big boy pants because I wasn’t in college anymore.”

Alex glances back over to Ethan, chuckling quietly to himself, before Elliot comes over, armed with a cue.

“Ready to help me kick Zach and Ethan’s butt?” Elliot hands over the cue to Alex with a grin, then turns to me. “Broski, have you ordered food? Because I’m famished.”

“Famished? You ate like an hour ago.”

He pats his stomach. “I’m a growing boy, and I’m gonna be burning a lot of cals kicking some grumpy ass.” He points to Ethan, who is, of course, scowling.

“Are we getting this game started or what, Olsen?”

“Ooohh,” Elliot chuckles, “don’t get ya panties in a twist, Cappy; I’ll even let you break.”

Ethan rolls his eyes and breaks.

I lean back in my seat, watching in contentment. Alex fits in so seamlessly, like he’s been around them for years, when really, we only met three weeks ago. The initial nerves disappear, and soon he’s teasing Elliot and joining in ribbing Ethan. All while I notice Zach frowning at his phone between turns, his shoulders hunching up to his ears.

When he glances up from his screen, I give him an upnod, asking if he’s good. He nods back jerkily, then steps up to the table to take his turn.

Hmm, odd.

“You trying to wipe us out of wings, Blaine?”

I turn to see Dylan transferring the order of wings and loaded fries from his tray onto the table.

“Yeah, we’ll still be hungry after this, I’m sure.” I laugh.

Dylan shakes his head, putting the final dish on the table. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He gives my forearm a gentle squeeze before disappearing into the back.

“Grub’s up,” I say, and my mouth goes dry when I see Alex’s face. His eyes are locked on my arm where Dylan touched me, a slight confusion marring his brow.

Elliot deems the game paused while we eat, and I make space for Alex to sit next to me. He thanks me when I hand him a plate, but the silence is killing me.

My mind races back to when I was with Kelly, to the times I was accused of cheating and flirting, and I really hope that’s not what Alex is thinking.

“It didn’t mean anything,” I say quietly, so only he can hear.

“What?”

“Dylan… We hooked up a long time ago, but nothing has happened since.”

His brows furrow. “Do you think I’m mad because he touched your arm?”