Page 11 of The Alternate Captain (Elite Hockey #3)

I slide into Johnny’s BMW and buckle my seat belt.

I’ve never been stunned into silence before, but there’s a first time for everything.

The sizzling tension spanning between us as we sat together in the beer garden was something I’d never experienced before.

Not even with Darren, or that time I kissed the boy I’d been crushing on for years when I was in primary school.

Johnny’s performance was worthy of an Oscar. And when he climbs in the car, I can’t even look at him. That sensation, completely alien to me, floods back as soon as his hand moves close to my leg as he reaches for a cable to plug his phone in.

I pull my own phone out of my bag as a distraction, groaning to myself when I see it’s dead.

“Do you need to charge your phone?” Johnny asks, gesturing to the wire.

“No. It’s fine, thanks,” I say, letting my stubborn attitude win .

And what infuriates me is he says nothing more. It’s like I’ve got the alternate version of Johnny again. Which is the precise moment I realise I’d spent my evening with John .

He belts himself up and pushes a few buttons on the console of his car. It’s a warm evening, so he gets the air-conditioning blasting through the vents, and within a few seconds, the cool air whips at my hair and blows his delicious scent around the cabin of his car.

I have to force myself to concentrate on the view outside.

He pulls out of the car park, and we ride in silence. It’s probably a full ten minutes before Johnny speaks again.

“How was the rest of your evening?”

“Fine,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed outside the window.

“I’m glad.”

That’s it.

That’s all he says. And that’s all I say.

And I think he’s going to never utter another word, ever again, but he clears his throat as we turn into my street. He pulls up outside and kills the engine, not making any effort to move. So I don’t either.

“I’m sorry. I am fucking terrible with words, and emotions and—”

“You were a completely different person back there,” I say. “Who are you, Johnny?”

All I get is a stunned silence.

He shifts in his seat. “I’m trying here, Kelly. But I am sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean for it to sound as if I don’t trust you, but honestly, I was panicking because if that comes out—”

He genuinely looks pained. But I’m reminded of how much he had trusted me when he told me about his issues finishing during sex.

“I get it, Johnny. I understand what guys are like in groups. Believe it or not, the orchestra isn’t too dissimilar. People talk and news travels fast. But your secret is safe with me. Don’t worry. ”

“Thanks.”

His eyes drift over to my seat and his arm flexes, as if he’s about to do something, when the front door of my house opens and light spills out onto the path. Johnny flinches, unbuckles his seat belt, and clambers out of the car.

“What took you so long?” Mike asks.

I’m out of his car in time to catch Johnny’s explanation.

“Kelly didn’t answer her phone, so I went to look for her. Some creeper was looking like he was about to eat her alive, so I told him I was her boyfriend. Naturally, I had to stay for a drink. But there wasn’t any drama.”

Well, colour me surprised.

I gape at Johnny. And he’s so casual about it.

My heart pounds so loud, my pulse is strong in my ears. I’m waiting for Mike to react. I’m waiting for Mike to say something... waiting for him to freak out. He holds his fist up, offering it to Johnny, who bumps it.

“Cheers, man. Who was he, Kel? Anyone we know?”

I stutter over my words. “A friend of Charlotte’s, that’s all. No one I’ll likely see again.”

“Good, because remember what I said—no dating. After that fucking loser—”

“Okay, Mike. I get it.”

I glare at Johnny.

Mike nods and turns his attention back to his friend, offering him a drink.

I get the hell out of there, in case Mike asks any more questions.

Pushing past them both, I don’t even bother saying good night. I head upstairs and knock on my parents’ door, which Mam opens in a flash—I knew she’d be waiting up to make sure I was home safe.

“How are you feeling now, love?” she says.

“Yeah, fine, thanks. I had a good evening. ”

“Good. I knew Johnny would get you back safe. Dad had a few drinks, see.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, Mam. Just going to bed.”

She pecks me on the cheek and wishes me a good night before closing her bedroom door.

I get myself ready for bed, plugging my phone in to charge before I climb under my duvet. Laying in the darkness, my mind is working overtime.

Who is Johnny, really? Like deep down. Who is he?

I absentmindedly run my fingers along my lips. Because whichever version of Johnny kissed me—that was something else. I’m wondering if he always kisses like that as my phone vibrates on my bedside table when it comes back to life.

Charlotte

Oh my God. You owe me the full story regarding your fella. He is *flame emoji*

I also have an unread message from earlier.

Unknown

It’s Johnny. I’m on my way to pick you up.

I stare at it for a moment, then close my messages, trying to push everything out of my mind.

I have so much to say and nothing to say at the same time. The turmoil of emotions twist and turn not only in my head, but in my heart, too. There’s something about Johnny that has me wondering, and I want to understand.

I tap out a message to him and hit send before I change my mind.

Kelly

Why did you kiss me?

He doesn’t reply. At least, not until I’m dropping off to sleep and my phone vibrates upon my chest, pulling me back. I scramble for it, blinking vigorously to clear my eyes.

Johnny

Why did you kiss me back?

He is infuriating.

Though, I’m not sure what I was expecting. Him to tell me it was a mistake? That it shouldn’t have happened? But I fume in the darkness of my bedroom. Why did I have to kiss him back? Why was this the best kiss I’d ever had—I mean, stuff like that doesn’t happen to me.

The more I think about it, the more confused I get. Does he like me? Do I like him? I can’t say I fully understand how I feel about him, but that stupid kiss has added nothing but confusion to my uncertainty.

I toss my phone aside and roll over, pulling my pillow over my head, willing myself to sleep. But all I can think about is Johnny.