Page 5

Oh god. He is flirting with me.

Adrian

H oly shit. Holy shit. Holy freaking shit.

Theo Walsh is here. Wearing a tight-as-sin leather jacket and a yummy-as-fuck pair of jeans that cup his ass perfectly.

Theo is here, at this bar. He’s here, and he’s real. That famous Casablanca quote unexpectedly pops into my head. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”

Another bout of laughter escapes my lips, and I clap my hand over my mouth. Damn. He really is going to think I’m high.

Theo arches a thick, sexy brow. “What’s so funny?” His intense stare completely shatters my fleeting confidence. In an instant, I go from feeling like a self-assured twenty-two-year-old hockey player to feeling like a shy thirteen-year-old meeting his idol for the first time.

“What’s funny?” I wave a hand in the air. “Oh, nothing. I blame Felix for making me watch Casablanca with him last week. He’s into the classics. But then you were here in front of me. At this bar.” I stare at his hands while I ramble on.

It’s only then do I realize I’m still kneeling in front of him like a freaking weirdo. Oh fuck. My face flushes with nerves and embarrassment.

“ Casablanca .” Theo clears his throat. “Right. I’d better get back inside. My break’s over.” He walks away before I can say anything else to embarrass myself.

Damn. He’s even sexier now than he was five years ago. He might look a little different, but I’ve been following him and his career since he was a rookie. I’d recognize Theo anywhere. Wavy red curls and all.

Rizzo detaches himself from the redhead’s side. What was her name again? Judy?

“Well, that was awkward, to say the least,” Rizzo snickers.

“Shut up. Do you know who that was?”

“Nope,” he replies, handing his glass of whiskey to me. “But I get the feeling you need this more than I do.”

A part of me wants to jump with joy and yell that the sexy man who was just standing in front of us is Theo fucking Walsh, but another loyal part of me remembers the ex-hockey star might just want his privacy.

Due to a devastating ACL injury, Theo was forced to retire from the NHL early. But everyone was shocked when he unexpectedly deleted all his social media accounts shortly after. No one really knows what he’s been up to all these years. Has he been working here in my hometown this whole time?

Suddenly, I’m imagining all these pretty puck bunnies fighting for Theo’s attention, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I’m tempted to take a swig from Rizzo’s glass and let the smooth whiskey slide down my throat, but Coach’s earlier lecture comes to mind.

Coach Wilson was pissed to find a video of me stumbling over with laughter had gone viral.

I wasn’t even that drunk, but my defense was shot to hell when some random girl threw up right in front of me and fell onto my lap.

Never mind that everyone knows I’m gay. Every puck bunny out there considers me to be prime meat; I found out when they had some bet on who could ‘ turn me straight ’ first.

The whole thing was disgusting, which only strengthened my resolve to publicly affirm my attraction to men, and men only.

Theo disappears behind the closing door, and I have this insane urge to follow him. “You know what?” I hand the glass back to Rizzo. “I’ll meet you in there. There’s something I need to do first.”

As I walk back inside, I spot Theo making his way behind the bar. Kayla, a bartender I recognize, is over in the corner serving drinks and chatting with a few of my teammates, while Theo’s coworkers are busy serving customers.

Before someone else can snag Theo’s attention, I slide onto the barstool in front of him.

If you had asked me fifteen minutes ago if Theo Walsh was straight, I probably would have said, without a doubt .

But I can’t forget the way he looked down at me when I was kneeling in front of him.

That heated look. Fuck, please don’t let me be imagining it.

“Hey, there. I’m Adrian.” I hold my hand out to him. “Adrian—”

“DeLuca,” he says, interrupting me. His big hand wraps around mine, and I swear I have to hold back a shudder. “I know who you are, DeLuca.”

He’s all striking blue eyes and smoldering stares.

While I’m pretty sure he’s aiming for stern indifference, his expression looks more Daddy than anything.

And I’m totally fucking here for it. A Daddy with a bad-boy style and Prince Charming hair?

Yes, please. Who knew such a thing existed?

I squirm in my chair, and will my body not to react to his handsome charm and dominating presence.

He lets go of my hand. Call me a cliché, but I already miss his warmth. There’s a strange, tense look about him that wasn’t there when I met him outside. It’s almost as if he’s guarded, bracing himself for the worst.

I play dumb and give him a flirty smile. “Aren’t you going to tell me who you are?”

The corner of his lip tilts up, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Rather than answer my question, his fingers tap the bar top in a fast rhythm. “What can I get you, DeLuca?”

“How about a Shirley Temple?”

Shock registers across his face. “No alcohol?”

I lean toward him, gaining more of my confidence back. “Nah. Not tonight. Tonight feels like a good night.”

“Do you usually skip the alcohol when it feels like a good night?”

“No. Not always.”

“Then what makes tonight so special?”

“Let’s just say I want my mind clear. Anything I do or say is done on purpose,” I flirt.

Normally, I’d just be straightforward and make my intentions obvious.

I’d ask the guy out or go back to his place—because let’s be honest, hooking up at Delfy House is a sure way to get people gossiping.

But with Theo, I want to flirt. I want to take my time and linger in the moment.

I can’t entirely be sure if he’s attracted to men, so I don’t want to scare him off.

But it’s more than that. I also have this man to thank for my career as a center. For inspiring me to attend college and chase after my dreams. And if he really isn’t attracted to me? Well, that would be a damn shame, but I still want to get to know him.

He studies me carefully. “All right. One Shirley Temple coming right up. Alcohol free.”

I laugh. “Shirley Temples don’t have alcohol in them to begin with.” Something tells me he’s happy that I’m not drinking tonight. A bartender who’s happy to serve me a non-alcoholic drink? Color me intrigued.

Theo winks and gets to work making my drink. As he tops off my drink with a maraschino cherry, he pauses before adding an extra one. “Here you go. I think you deserve a little extra sugar tonight.”

Oh. My. God.

Is Theo Walsh flirting with me?

“Thank you.” I sip on the drink and moan. Not because I’m actually trying to be flirty this time, but because this is the best sugary drink I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking. “Holy shit. I think my tongue just had an orgasm.”

“Language,” Theo replies automatically. His tone causes me to sit up, and my heart beats faster. Why was that so damn hot?

Theo blushes. “I didn’t mean that.”

I grin. “No, no. That’s fine. I can watch my language around you if you’d like.” Theo still looks flustered, so I change the subject. “How long have you been working here? I come here every so often and haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m new to town. Well, I guess not new, but it’s been years since I’ve lived here in Brynn.”

“What’s brought you back to our fine town?”

Theo eyes me curiously. “Hmm. Promise to not make fun of me?”

I hold up my hand as if swearing in court. “I promise.” He nods and opens his mouth, but I continue. “Unless, of course, it’s absolutely ridiculous. Then I probably just won’t be able to contain myself.”

He barks out a laugh. “What the hell? You promised.”

“I did. And I promise I’ll try my best.”

Theo narrows his eyes. “College,” he whispers.

“Did you say—”

“College. I’m finishing up a few business classes and starting an internship soon.”

My lips part in shock.

“Hey now. I told you not to make fun of me.” His words are playful, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes.

I snap myself out of it. “What? No! I am not making fun of you. That’s…that’s amazing. Inspirational, even.” There’s something sexy about a man with brains. But a sexy athlete who also has brains? Pure kryptonite.

“You don’t think I’m too old?”

“God no. What even is too old? My friend’s mother never got the opportunity to finish her degree before she had kids. Twenty years later, and she’s finally in a position where she can. I don’t think she’s too old, she’s…”

“Inspirational?”

I laugh. “Well, yeah. But where’s the lie?”

“Touché.” He smiles. Kayla and the other bartenders work around us, making drinks and serving customers.

The selfish part of me knows I should let him get back to work, but I really want him all to myself.

He doesn’t make a move to stop our conversation, and I don’t remind him that this is his place of employment, either.

At one point, Kayla walks up to Theo and whispers in his ear. I’m ashamed to admit that jealousy swirls in my stomach until Theo nods at her and points at my glass. “Would you like another one, Adrian?”

My whole body lights up when he says my first name. It’s the first time he hasn’t called me DeLuca since meeting me, and I like the way it sounds rolling off his tongue. Fuck, I’m a sap.

I nod eagerly, glad he isn’t pulling away. We continue chatting and getting to know each other. My inner thirteen-year-old does this crazy little dance and hoots with joy. I haven’t had this much fun just chatting with someone in a really long time.

“What are you doing in school?”

“I’m here for hockey. Hockey is in my blood ,” I smile as I say the last line.

I’ve been dying to say that exact phrase to Theo Walsh since I heard him say it all those years ago.

It might be pathetic, but I’ve imagined saying it many times with so many different scenarios unfolding.

But not once have I ever pictured the way his smile falls as disappointment clouds his features.

“Have you ever considered what you might do if hockey was taken away from you?”

My stomach drops. Fuck. How could I be so inconsiderate? Of course, he would be wary. He lost everything.

“Theo,” Kayla calls out. “Can you help me with these drinks? These hockey players are thirsty as fuck.” She laughs at her own joke.

I glance over at my teammates and see several of them chatting with some of the puck bunnies.

Rizzo is on the other side of the table, chatting happily with another teammate, but I’m shocked to see Judy sitting on Callaway’s lap instead.

“Sure thing,” Theo replies. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay,” I murmur as he rushes off.

I’m such an asshole. Why would I say that to an ex-NHL player who lost his entire career to something as common as an injury?

It might have been cute to say it if he were still playing, but now?

I must be lost in my own melancholy, just playing with the condensation on my glass, because I startle when a throat clears right in front of me.

Leaning across the bar top, Theo smiles. “Hey. What happened to that confident hockey god I was just chatting with a few minutes ago?”

I want to say sorry for sticking my foot in my mouth, but that would mean admitting I know who he is. Would he be mad if I knew? Is it a secret? Or is it just a coincidence that he didn’t give me his name yet? Or mention the NHL. Wait, what did he just call me?

My eyes snap up to his, and despite myself, I give him a small smile. “Hockey god?”

“Well, sure. I didn’t miss that breakaway tonight. And what about those hat tricks in your last two games? That’s impressive.”

A wider grin spreads across my face. “You watch my games?”

“Nah,” he says casually, flipping around and leaning against the bar top.

His back is to me, but he’s looking at me from over his shoulder.

“The college channel was on earlier, and some blogger was interviewing you. She mentioned something about back-to-back hat tricks this season. Or at least I’m pretty sure that was you.

Sweat dripping off that body of yours. Hockey jersey.

Light blue, red, and white. Charming smile? ”

Oh god. He is flirting with me.

“So, you were watching,” I say, arching my brow with confidence. “I called it.”

His laughter is this sexy rumble. Some of that weird tension eases, and Theo suddenly looks younger. His broad shoulders lower as he relaxes.

He smirks and flips back around to face me. His plush lips tip to the side in this sexy way I’m growing used to. “Who knew Adrian DeLuca is a little bit of a brat?”

I trail my fingers along the zipper of his black leather jacket. Oh yeah, these sexy rocker-Daddy vibes look good on Theo, even if the Daddy part is just wishful thinking. I tug him closer. “And why does that sound like a compliment?”

“DeLuca,” Rizzo shouts across the room. “Get your ass over here and hang out with your team.”

Theo pulls away, the spell between us broken once again. I roll my eyes. Fuck. Rizzo’s bad timing makes me want to scream. “Sorry.” I give Theo a shy smile.

Theo shakes his head and slowly backs away.

“No, don’t be sorry. I get it. Go on. Hang out with your team.

Celebrate your win.” His gaze is warm, and his smile is soft.

He’s no longer looking at me with those flirty blue eyes.

Instead, there’s an almost caring look on his face.

For years, I would have killed to see Theo Walsh flirt with me.

But fuck me, why am I more interested in exploring this look rather than the flirty one?