Alex (Cold Fury Hockey, #1)(58)
Still, the seats were amazing and even though the Cold Fury lost, I had a wonderful time cheering on Alex and his team. I was even proudly sporting the Crossman jersey Alex had given me this morning just before I left his apartment, right after he had wrung two orgasms out of me.
Sighing deeply over the memory, I smile at Monica and pleasantly say, “Hey! What are you doing here?”
Monica leans in to give me a quick hug. “I came over for a drink with some friends after the game,” she says, pointing to the front door area where two other girls are waiting. “I saw you standing here and thought I’d come say hello.”
“It’s good to see you,” I tell her genially, because it is. I truly had fun with her when I watched my first-ever hockey game.
Monica waves her friends over to make introductions and I give warm smiles to her buds, Amy and Carrie. They too are sporting Cold Fury jerseys and are bearing the slightly dejected look of having suffered a loss.
“Sutton here is friends with Alex Crossman,” Monica says with a mischievous grin as she wraps her arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze.
As Amy and Carrie squeal, I smile inwardly to myself and think, Yeah, I’m much more than just his friend now.
This, unfortunately, brings scorching hot memories of the unbelievably stellar sex we had last night and this morning, and if I may recommend it to anyone who is considering a safe and healthy monogamous relationship, sex without condoms is the f*cking bomb. I swear, I could feel Alex inside of me with such exquisite detail, the memory of it has me clenching my legs tight together to relieve the ache starting to build. I take a swig of my beer to moisten the dryness in my throat and tune back in to the conversation.
“Are you meeting him here tonight?” Carrie asks.
“Um…uh…yeah, I guess so,” I say lamely, because I know that it will probably be impossible to get rid of Monica and her cronies now. I assume that once they get a gander at Alex and Garrett, all hope of a cozy evening with my man and his numero uno buddy will fly out the window.
The girls lapse into talk about the hockey game and I find myself enjoying the commentary. I realize how far I’ve come as a hockey fan when I can actually contribute to the conversation, joining in the lamenting of the fact that our boys just played shitty tonight. Alex looked off in his play, a thought that worried me a little, because I’m just insecure enough to wonder if I have anything to do with that. Or maybe that’s me having too big an ego?
Still, after our conversation last night about his “first kiss,” I’ve been thinking a lot about Alex and the burdens he carries in his soul. I was shocked and disgusted that his father would remove his childhood and then try to replace it with a whore. It’s despicable and I hope to God I never have the pleasure of meeting the man. Of course, the likelihood of that happening is slim, because while I believe Alex is developing feelings for me, he still remains closed tight as a clam when it comes to much of his personal life.
We girls order a round of beer—their first and my second—and we continue our play-by-play of the game. I find myself enjoying their company, even Monica’s overt exuberance for all things that make up hot hockey players. It doesn’t even bother me—that much—when she waxes poetic about how beautiful Alex’s eyes are. I sort of have to agree with her.
After an hour, my second beer is gone and I’m into my third. I’ve checked my watch only about a dozen times in the last ten minutes and my text messages just as often. No word from Alex, and I’m starting to think that he’s going to be a no-show. I’m hoping it’s just because he’s bummed about the game and not because after two nights of glorious, sweaty sex, he’s decided to move on from me.
God, I hope he hasn’t decided that. The thought makes my stomach hurt, which makes me realize that my feelings run pretty damn deep where Alex is concerned.
Glancing at the door to the bar one more time, I don’t see Alex and my bladder is close to bursting, so I lean over to Monica and tell her I’m heading to the restroom. I hope if she sees Alex come in while I’m gone she’ll let him know where I’m at. Turning away from her, I start to head toward the bathroom when someone grabs my elbow and pulls me backward. I can’t even get my body turned to see who has me when strong arms circle around my waist and I’m being drawn back into a tall, hard male body that smells faintly of citrus and eucalyptus. It’s the scent of Alex’s body wash and I immediately relax backward into his embrace, placing my hands over his arms as they enclose me completely.
He hugs me…tightly…possessively, and relief courses through me because in all honesty, I had some doubts about how real these feelings between us were. Putting his mouth near my ear, he murmurs, “I’ve missed you.”
Turning my body, I snake my arms up and wrap them around his neck. “I missed you too.”
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, his face hovering over mine. “Coach gave us a ‘pep talk’ after the game.”
My eyebrows rise in question and Alex clarifies. “That means ‘ass-chewing.’?”
“Oh,” I say softly, my fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the game. I thought you might be bummed and not want to hang tonight.”
Rubbing his thumb along the waistband of my jeans, he says, “I am bummed but two things you should know about that. First, no matter how bummed I am about losing a game, I imagine being with you will make everything better. And second, it’s been a long time since I’ve been sad over a loss. I think that says something, don’t you?”