Page 64 of When Alec Met Evie
“Right? I told you.”
I sit down, and he slides my burger in front of me. It looks like the barbecue one—a solid choice—and my mouth immediately starts to water. “This was really nice of you, Alec.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was on my way home.”
“It isnoton your way home. This place is not on the way anywhere.”
He grins. “I was hoping your limited knowledge of Harvest Hollow might work to my advantage.”
“I’m bad with directions,” I say, holding up a fry and pointing it at him. “But not that bad.”
“Fine. You caught me. I’m here for the fries that I’m not allowed to buy for myself.” He reaches over and steals a handful of sweet potato fries.
“Hmm. So they don’t have any calories if you steal them from someone else’s plate?”
“Exactly.”
I take a bite of my burger, letting out a little groan as the tang of the barbecue sauce hits my tongue. “Oh gosh. That’s so good.”
“So I made the right choice?”
I nod through another bite. “You absolutely did. It’s definitely my favorite of the two we tried. So, easy day today, huh? Must be nice after so much traveling.”
“Yeah. I think we were all ready for a break.”
“Next game is tomorrow?”
“Home game tomorrow, then another on Saturday.”
“I don’t know how you keep up with such a crazy schedule,” I say as I lick a dollop of barbecue sauce off my finger. “I’d be exhausted all the time.”
He shrugs, but not before a hint of something unreadable passes over his expression. “You get used to it.”
I almost push. Ask him if he’s getting tired of it all or if it’s just the pain in his knee that has him worried. Is it harder this season? Are the injections in his knee still working? Has his playing time been impacted? But I’ve sensed a growing tension whenever we talk about hockey lately, and I don’t want to push him when we only have a short time to be together, so when Alec changes the subject, I don’t stop him.
“So, I was thinking,” he says as he digs into his salad. “The team is doing a community thing next week for Halloween. All the junior hockey teams and their families come to the Summit and trick-or-treat around the arena, have a costume contest, that sort of thing. Would you want to bring Juno and go with me? It’s usually pretty fun.”
“I’m sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Alec Sheridan ofI hate Halloweenfame is actually inviting me to a Halloween event?”
His lips lift into a chagrined smile. “Sometimes I forget how much you know about my past.”
“Alec. Everyone in all of White Plains knows how much you hate Halloween. You complained about that hotdog costume for months.”
“It was a really terrible costume,” he argues. “Layers and layers of polyester. And tights, Evie. Bright red tights.”
To his credit, Alec stillworethe terrible hotdog costume, because a ten-year-old Megan desperately wanted him to be a hotdog to her cheeseburger. But I still vividly remember how much he hated those tights. “You’re a good brother.”
“The scars run deep, because I still don’t love Halloween. But the thing at the Summit isn’t optional, so if I have to be there…” He gives me a pointed look.
“Misery loves company?”
His eyebrows lift playfully. “I was thinking more…maybe it won’t be miserable if you’re there with me?”
My face flushes with heat. He has no idea what he’s doing to me. But also, heshouldn’tbe doing this if he has a freaking girlfriend who lives in Chicago. I put down my burger and force myself to swallow the bite suddenly lodged in my throat.
I have to ask him.
I have to ask himright nowbecause if I don’t, the question is going to eat at me and eat at me and then I might throw up which would be a colossal waste because this is a really delicious burger.
