Page 4

I’m no longer training or conditioning myself like I used to.

Don’t get me wrong, I still work out at the gym and keep up with my cardio, but my body is slim and toned.

My face is leaner, and so is my body. Not to mention, after my injury, I removed myself from social media.

The general public hasn’t seen me in years. Even my own mother didn’t recognize me.

Kayla must have seen the panic on my face because she begins walking toward us. “It’s fine. I’ll start the daiquiris,” Kayla shouts over the music. “Go take your break. John and Luna just got here.”

I steeple my hands together and mouth the words, thank you.

I snag a water bottle reserved for staff only and contemplate whether I should go next door and get a bite to eat.

Deciding against it, I nod to Luna as she clocks in, remove my nametag, and place it in the little cubby beneath the bar.

Rummaging around, I find my phone and hidden stash of gummy bears before making my way out to the patio.

Outside, it’s mostly quiet, with a few couples chatting and drinking beer, and two guys laughing while vaping.

Luckily, my favorite table is unoccupied.

I plop down in the chair and tear into my bag of candy.

Taking a deep breath, I power on my phone.

Notifications quickly start beeping, and I notice most of them are from Grant, while a few are from my mom.

Grant: Hey, Theo! Give me a call.

Grant: It’s nothing bad, I just want to talk.

Grant: Theo, please stop acting so immature about this.

Grant: I spoke with your mother. She said you don’t start work for a few more hours.

Mom: Honey, I just got off the phone with Grant. You should really give him a call and hear him out. He’s sorry, and you know how happy it would make me to see you two back together.

Mom: I just want my son to find happiness again.

I let out a deep sigh and placed my phone on the table.

After popping a few gummy bears in my mouth, I relax in the chair with my ankles crossed and my eyes closed as I chew slowly, my head tilted back.

I savor the sugary taste and the feel of it in my mouth.

I place my hand in my pocket until my fingers graze across the familiar warmth of the coin I always carry around with me.

Why the hell did Grant call my mother? It’s a low blow.

The tiny voice in my head says I probably could have avoided all of this if I didn’t ignore him, but shit, I’m finally moving on with my life. Why can’t he? Despite what my mother thinks, I’m happy. My focus has been on my Business Administration degree and studying for the SIE exam.

I’m proud of my accomplishments and excited to become a financial advisor.

Five years ago, my knee injury sidelined me, leading to a period of seclusion, excessive spending, and recovery.

After several months of poor financial decisions, I realized my money should have set me up for a long time.

My lifestyle was extravagant and unrealistic, based on the fantasy of a long-term hockey career.

Coming to that realization was like an epiphany.

Suddenly, I wanted to help others in the sport make better financial decisions.

The sound of the bar door opening and closing catches my attention, but I keep my eyes closed.

It’s a nice, peaceful night with a light breeze caressing my skin.

The noise from inside is muffled, and I just want a moment to myself, away from the loud crowd, from my ex’s text messages, and from my mother’s insistence.

Light footsteps click across the wooden patio until they pause nearby. A gasp tumbles from someone’s lips, followed by my name being whispered into the air. “Theo?”

My eyes blink open, and for a long moment, I wonder if I fell asleep.

Like a dream, I immediately recognize the man in front of me.

Adrian DeLuca is even prettier in person.

Unlike his earlier interview, he’s now neither sweaty nor in his gear.

Instead, he’s dressed in a stunning suit that fits him like a fucking glove.

With his dark brown hair styled away from his face and his game-time scruff gone, he looks charmingly innocent.

The kid is a genius on the ice and far more talented than I was at his age.

I can’t be entirely sure if it’s because he’s playing my position on the same team I played in while in school, or if it’s something else, but ever since he was drafted to the Olivia Cove Wyverns, I’ve been following his career.

Fascinated by the way he moves on the ice.

About two years ago, my mother insisted we go to a few local games.

Rather than the jealousy I expected to feel, I felt that much-needed rush the ice used to give me before my injury.

Since then, I’ve secretly attended several of the Ice Dragon’s home games, all while cheering on my new celebrity crush.

Adrian lowers himself to the ground in front of me, just within reach.

The sight of this boy on his knees is surreal and startling.

He looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost from his past. But that’s impossible.

I’d never forget a sight like this. His pretty gray eyes are large and striking, even with the dim lighting.

Adrian licks his bottom lip before biting on it, and I swear the move shoots a bolt of lust through my body.

Yeah. I’m no longer tired, that’s for damn sure.

I sit up straight, uncross my ankles, and place my feet back on the ground.

The position makes me tower over him as he sits back on his heels.

He must recognize me from the bar—although I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen DeLuca this close in person before.

I’m about to ask him if he needs any help or anything when he does something strange.

He leans forward, slowly reaches out, and pokes me in the cheek. It doesn’t hurt. It’s more playful than anything, but what truly has me captivated is the way his face changes from fascination to pure giddy joy a moment after his finger touches my skin.

A wide smile breaks across his face, and he laughs. Honest to god, laughs. Unable to fight this weird pull between us, my lips twitch, forming a wide smile that mirrors his. What the fuck is happening?

“Oh my god. You’re real?” He laughs again, the rumbling noise a little deeper this time.

I arch a curious eyebrow. “Are you high?”

His smile stays in place, and even though his pretty blue-gray eyes seem to sparkle, they seem clear. There’s a faint scent of vodka combined with the citrusy scent of his cologne, but I don’t actually get the impression he’s high or drunk.

“Nah, not high,” he replies. “Just happy. Surprised, but happy.”

I’m about to ask him to explain when music pours from the open door, breaking the spell between us. Tate Rizzo, DeLuca’s teammate, saunters outside, his arm wrapped around one of the puck bunnies who was hanging out with the redhead.

Not missing a thing, Rizzo’s gaze bounces between DeLuca and me. “Ah, Adrian. There you are. I’ve been looking for you. Turns out you have a fan.”

“Hi.” The puck bunny gives Adrian a flirty smile, and I stand, suddenly feeling out of place.

“Why, hello there,” DeLuca greets her from his position on the floor.

If I’m not mistaken, the girl practically swoons at the tone in his voice.

And if I’m being honest, so do I. It’s musical and light, seductive.

Something about it reminds me of some paranormal creature, like a vampire or Fae. Fucking hell. What was in my gummies?

“My name is Judy. I’m a huge fan of yours, Adrian.”

Rizzo nudges her forward a step, causing her to giggle and blush. “I tried buying a drink for our new friend here, but Judy seems to be saving herself for you, Adrian.”

She bites her lip, and I have to admit it’s not as charming as the way Adrian did just moments before. “I wanted to ask you if the rumors were true,” she says. “Are you really gay?”

I roll my eyes. Dear Lord, I don’t miss the puck bunnies.

Adrian chuckles. “They aren’t rumors.”

I have to hand it to the kid; he’s not only more talented, but he’s also braver than I was at his age. Technically, I still haven’t come out as gay to the public. And here is this twenty-two-year-old announcing his sexual orientation before he’s even signed.

From his kneeling position, Adrian’s pretty, large eyes sweep up my body. It’s as if time stands still. I’m lost in that gray gaze, captivated. Frozen in place. The fact he’s kneeling and looking up at me in that sweet way has my cock jerking and my jeans growing tight.

My gaze sweeps down to his flushed cheeks and over to his plush lips. Adrian’s stare drops to my groin, proving that he isn’t a kid at all. I fight the urge to cover up my half chub so I don’t bring more attention to it.

“Oh yeah,” Adrian breathes. “I’m definitely gay.”