Page 16 of The Alternate Captain (Elite Hockey #3)

This is the most awkward date I’ve ever been on. And it’s got nothing to do with Johnny.

We’re squeezed into a booth, opposite Charlotte and her date, Lyla, watching them quarrel about everything and anything.

At first, I think it’s playful banter, but it heats pretty quickly.

All Johnny and I can do is talk between us whilst we pretend that there isn’t a full-blown catfight happening less than a metre away.

“Shall we leave, or...?” Johnny whispers right in my ear since he’s taking up about eighty per cent of the space.

“Oh, shut up, will you? I can’t believe you’re bringing this up now.” Charlotte’s voice reaches a tone of frustration and Lyla rolls her eyes before pulling out her phone.

“I knew you’d act like this,” Lyla says, and she shifts out of the booth, storming off towards the bathrooms.

“Is everything okay, Char?” I ask.

“Obviously not, Kelly,” she snaps. But she changes her tone quickly to apologise. “I’m sorry. It’s been stressful. Lyla’s grandmother isn’t well—which is why we’re in the city. She lives in a care home right on the outskirts.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” I say.

“Can we do anything to help?” Johnny asks.

“No, no. It’s fine. Thanks. Anyway—you two. You literally make my heart leap with excitement. I can see the honeymoon phase is still going strong.”

“It sure is,” Johnny says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I stumble over my words. “Well, we’re doing okay.”

He leans down and kisses my cheek.

All for show, of course.

Charlotte’s phone buzzes on the table, and she’s quick to snap her attention to the screen, reading for a second before letting out a sigh of contempt.

“I’m going to check on Lyla,” she says, slipping out of the booth.

I expect Johnny’s arm to slip away, since we’re no longer being watched, but he keeps it firmly set while he checks the menu.

“What are you thinking of getting?” he asks, flicking through the pages of the menu. “The chicken looks good.”

I skim down the list, surveying the prices. “I, uh, the salad.”

“Get what you want, and I’ll square it up,” he says.

“It’s fine. I’m trying to lose a few pounds anyway,” I say.

“The heck you are. You’re perfect. Now do as you’re told and get what you want, Kelly.”

I stare at him, aghast, and I watch his face break into a smile that has my whole body buzzing.

“Do you love telling people what to do, Johnny?”

It just comes out. And a warm, flushed feeling washes over me.

Johnny’s Adam’s apple quivers as he swallows. Hard. Then he clears his throat and shifts in his seat, attention back on the menu .

“I’m only asking if you really want the salad.” He angles himself towards me and sets his eyes right on mine. “Look at me now and tell me you really want the salad. And only the salad.”

Well, crap. I can’t even keep a straight face. I laugh softly and pull the menu towards me to check it again. He leans right into me, his mouth by my ear as he lists other things he likes from the menu. Then, in a slight movement, his lips brush my neck.

“You smell really good, by the way,” he says and I shiver, inadvertently squeezing his thigh in the process. “And I’m sure you’d love for me to—”

Charlotte’s return to the table pulls us out of our whispering, and I’m giggling uncontrollably, probably set off by the giddiness I’m feeling.

She doesn’t scoot back into the booth. Instead, she leans across and grabs her coat.

“I’m sorry to do this, but I’m taking off. I’ve literally had enough. Can you text me and let me know what I owe you for the drinks? Thanks, Kel.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I’ll text you,” she says, retreating towards the exit.

She stops to let a server pass as Lyla comes skidding out from the direction of the bathrooms a few seconds later.

“Wow,” Johnny says, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “Shall we—”

“Sure,” I say, shuffling in the space I have to reach for my coat, but Johnny knits his brows together.

“Oh, did you want to leave?”

“I thought—”

“I was just going to ask if we should order,” he says, tapping the menu that’s open in front of me. “I’m starving. Unless you want to go home?”

“I don’t.”

“Good,” he says.

I’m not sure what he’s going to do next. He doesn’t have to pretend anymore, but he’s still pressed right up against me. I can see his jaw tighten and then he leans closer, our eyes locking. And for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.

Someone clears their throat to the side of us, and we both dart our heads towards the noise.

“Are you guys ready to order—or are you waiting for the rest of your party?” the server asks.

“Just us and—are you ready, beautiful?” Johnny’s hand runs gently along my arm and my skin prickles with goosebumps. I can’t even remember my own name right now, let alone my order. “Kelly?”

“Yes. Right.”

The server pulls out a little notepad from a front pocket but doesn’t take her eyes off Johnny. She stares at him for a beat before tilting her head to the side, recognition dawning on her face.

“Oh, wait—are you Johnny Koenig?” she asks, widening her eyes slightly, and to my complete surprise, Johnny shakes his head.

“Nah, but I get that all the time.”

I have to bite my lip to hold in a laugh, managing right up to the point where the server walks away after taking our order.

Once it’s just us again, I giggle. Johnny laughs too, a deep, rumbly chuckle that has me wondering how often he lets his guard down, allowing the less serious side of him to come out to play.

He takes a sip of water then clears his throat.

“Want to hear something funny but also very embarrassing?” he asks, lips tightening into a straight line. “Aw, man. I can’t even think about it, really.”

“Okay, now I need to know,” I say, grinning at him.

He runs his hands through his hair, then grins at me.

“When I bumped into Charlotte the other day, I was having brunch with my sister. When we first got there, I had a few fans ask me for autographs and whatever. And I have this thing where I feel obliged to say yes, even if I’m eating or whatever.

They pay our wages when you think about it, so it’s the least I can do. ”

“Right...”

“Anyway, someone who turned out to be Lyla wanted to borrow the salt from our table, but I thought she was asking for my autograph, and...” Johnny’s shoulders start shaking as he laughs. “I was so embarrassed.”

“Oh my God,” I say, clamping my hand over my mouth.

“Yeah—honestly, I thought she was going to bring it up. I’ve been worrying about it since we got here, but they were obviously too busy doing whatever they were doing. My sister’s face was a picture. She loved seeing me make a complete idiot of myself.”

Johnny talks about his sister with a glimmer of something in his eyes. And from what he told me about his upbringing during the three months we spent chatting, they were there for each other. It’s endearing.

“I’d love to meet her someday,” I say.

“Why? So, you can ask her about more embarrassing moments? I’m sure she’s captured most of them on camera, to be honest.”

There’s that deep chuckle again.

“Can I get you any more drinks?” The server is back with a beaming smile, and she looks like she’s checking Johnny out again.

“Do you want another drink, babe?” he asks, the same hand dancing gently over my skin.

Babe. That’s a new one.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I say.

She ambles away, keeping her eyes locked on Johnny.

“That was awkward, right?” I say once she’s out of earshot.

Johnny’s brow furrows as he scoffs in disbelief. “Just a little.”

“She was undressing you with her eyes, Johnny.”

“Nah,” he scoffs, suddenly very interested in the dessert menu .

And I realise there are people looking at us. Staring even. Perhaps they recognise Johnny, or they’re possibly wondering why we’re sitting here together. Because let’s face it—right now, I’m punching.

“Why were you on that app, Johnny?”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he says sharply before taking in a breath.

“Well, obvious reasons—but look at you. You’re really good-looking.”

“I don’t think that about myself, Kelly. In fact, I see a therapist and that’s partly why. My self-esteem was so low at one point.”

He shifts away from me, and I realise that I’ve said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that,” I say, feeling like my whole body is crushing itself with the pressure of my poor assumption.

His arm, which was casually draped over the back of my seat, drops to his side.

“Women want the dark and handsome types, Kelly. Not the blue-eyed, blond guys. I mean, it’s the hand I’ve been dealt, and it sucks.”

My jaw drops, because I’m in complete disbelief that Johnny would see himself any different from what I see—and what Tom sees. I could ramble on about how handsome I think he is, and tell him he’s wrong about himself, but it seems like he’s already decided. I try another angle.

“Do you not trust my judgement, Johnny? Because I can’t even look at you sometimes,” I say with a smirk. “You’re really fucking handsome.”

“Oh.”

I can’t even believe I said it out loud. My whole face burns with embarrassment.

Of course, this is the time when the server brings our food, setting the plates down on the table. Johnny insisted on ordering starters and mains to arrive together, so the table fills quickly.

Johnny waits until the server’s left before speaking again.

“How’re your studies going?”

Okay, I’m definitely embarrassed now. And my heart sinks because he’s changed the subject so quickly. The sternness of his voice, indicating that ‘Johnny the Captain’ is back.

But I’m not settling this time. Despite the anxiety building in my chest, there’s no way I’m sitting here, eating a meal with this version of him.

“Please don’t do this,” I say, looking into his eyes. “Please don’t switch the conversation or shy away or whatever, whenever things get difficult.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with compliments.”

“Well, nor do I, but you’ll have to deal with it. Because you’re special, Johnny. And I think you should remember that.”