Alex (Cold Fury Hockey, #1)(34)

“Well, if you two do hook up, we need to go out on a double date. Mike and I are the only married couple on the team without kids and we never really get to hang out with the others that much.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I tell her, even though I think chances of that happening are slim to none. Alex just doesn’t seem like the type to double date. Hell, he doesn’t even seem like the type to date.

There’s no doubt I’m attracted to Alex. I mean really, really attracted. Maybe this is nothing more than chemistry. Maybe if something happens, it’s going to be nothing more than a single sexual encounter.

But that’s not my style. I’m a commitment, love and roses type of person. I mean, I don’t believe you have to be married or even be in love to have sex, but I do believe you need to have some strong feelings for the other person.

I’m not sure what I feel for Alex. He captivates me in a way that I don’t recall Brandon ever doing. Wearing a blanket of loneliness and anger makes him seem vulnerable to me, and watching him open up a bit makes me all the more intrigued. Add to that, he is without a doubt the sexiest man I have ever known. Yeah, I just don’t know what I feel for him, but there’s something.

The bigger question is…does he feel anything for me?





Chapter 11


Alex


Shaking my head in consternation, I walk out toward the lobby of the practice rink because that’s where I told Sutton I’d meet her. Outside of having to chase Cassie off at the beginning of practice, I actually had a pretty good time out there. I’m not sure if it’s because Sutton was there watching me or the fact that Garrett was cracking joke after joke as we were waiting for the next drill. The dude has an endless supply of jokes that are dirty as hell and were only suitable to be told amongst a group of comedically immature guys. No matter if I try to stay aloof with him, he won’t let me. It’s like he refuses to let me be an ass, and God help me, I’m starting to like that about him.

It’s actually the first practice session since I joined the Cold Fury that I can actually say I enjoyed, start to finish.

What’s even more enjoyable is, as I step out into the lobby with my equipment bag over my shoulder, my eyes immediately zero in and lock on Sutton. She’s standing by the front glass door, her back to me, gazing outside. Dressed super casual in just T-shirt, jeans and black Converse, she looks young, fresh and adorable—actually edible.

Adorably edible and my pounding pulse seems to agree.

I start toward her because she’s like a light at the end of the tunnel, when something grabs hold of my arm. Looking around, I see Cassie standing there, gazing at me with heated eyes.

“We need to talk,” she says with determination.

I pull my arm away. “No, we really don’t.”

“What the f*ck was that little stunt out there on the ice?”

“You’re classy as ever,” I remark dryly, and turn to walk away.

She grabs my arm again, her nails digging in. I arch an eyebrow up at her, my look giving her about two seconds to get off me. Luckily she takes heed, releasing me just as quickly.

“Are you throwing me over for that girl?” she says loudly, nodding toward Sutton. I turn my gaze and follow Cassie’s stare. Sutton has overheard this little byplay and stares back at us, her face impassively serene despite being called out.

Turning back to Cassie, I tell her quietly, hoping to bring the noise level down a bit, “I’m not throwing you over for her. I’m throwing you over for me. I’m just not interested anymore and the sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll let this go.”

I give my back to Cassie without giving her a chance to respond. In three long strides, I reach Sutton and take her elbow, turning her toward the door. With my free hand, I push it open and usher her through it before me. She gives me no resistance, trusting in my direction.

We step out into the midday sun, and I note there’s finally a crispness to the air that signifies that maybe fall has truly arrived.

“So, is the life of a hockey star normally filled with stalker ex-girlfriends?” Sutton asks me as the door closes behind us.

I turn to her with a grin. “I think it’s part of the standard résumé. And for the record, she was not my girlfriend.”

“What was she, then?” she asks me with complete confidence in her nosiness.

I’m not sure she’ll like my answer but I give it. “She was a hookup. Nothing more.”

“Oh…okay,” Sutton says quickly and I’m pretty sure I just lost some brownie points with her.

“Where’s your car?” I ask Sutton just to change the subject.

“My car?”

“Yeah…figured you could drive if you don’t mind. Mine is behind the complex in the players’ parking lot and yours is probably closer.”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly and takes off toward the parking lot. “But I have to warn you…it’s a little junky. I’m not sure a celebrity of your status should be seen in it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I tell her with a chuckle, although when she stops at a rusted-out bucket of a car to unlock the door, I’m not sure it will get us to our intended destination.

“It runs fine,” she assures me, the look on my face undoubtedly giving away my concern. “We can take your car if you’re worried about it.”