Pucked (Pucked 1)

“Just pick what you like.” His smile makes the fountain of beave turn on. I better not soak through my damn panties.

I go with red. I don’t like it as much as I like white, so I’ll drink slower. Wine tends to hit me hard and fast, and I don’t want to make a fool out of myself in a nice restaurant. Bars and hockey games are a totally different story.

There are no prices on my dinner menu, either. I have a feeling it’s purposeful. I order the bacon wrapped filet mignon, medium-rare. There’s nothing better than a nice cut of beef hugged by a pork product. I opt for a garden salad instead of Caesar to avoid garlic breath. Alex orders seafood-something-or-other, and then we’re alone.

Taking my hand in his, he lifts it to his lips. It’s funny how he can be so smooth sometimes and other times he blunders around like me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever get you to go on a date with me.”

“Me, either.”

Alex laughs.

When the waiter brings my salad and his soup, Alex moves his chair closer so he’s next to me, like at the café.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave again tomorrow.”

“You’ll be gone for a couple of weeks?”

“We have a six-game series. Usually the long stretches aren’t so close together. The games are spread out, so we’re on the road longer than I like.”

“Usually you only play a few away games at a time, right?” I’ve never really paid much attention to Buck’s schedule. He shows up on my couch a few times a month to play Xbox and eat my food. Over the last little while, I’ve become far more familiar with who he’s playing against and when.

“Most of the time. There’s a couple of long stretches every season, and we’ve got some difficult games coming up against solid teams.”

“Sidney’s been on the phone with Buck lately, discussing strategy.”

“You two seem to get along pretty well.” There’s something in the way he says it—almost as if he’s jealous, which seems silly.

“You mean Buck? I guess. He’s got a pretty busy life. Mostly he stops by if he needs a meal. He has his hockey hookers to fill his time.”

“‘Hockey hookers’?” Alex smiles questioningly, but his eyes look troubled.

“You know, puck bunnies.”

His dimples stay in place, but the tic under his left eye gives away his disquiet.

Thankfully, our meals arrive and I dig in, happy to abandon the topic. My filet cuts like butter and tastes even better. Between decadent bites, I ask Alex about Canada.

“I grew up in a city called Guelph. It’s in Ontario.”

“That’s an interesting name for a city.” It sounds like a character from a Tolkien novel.

“It’s an hour outside of Toronto.”

I nod as if the geographical location helps place the name.

“Have you ever been to Canada?”

I shake my head, unable to respond as I’m chewing.

“You should come when we play Toronto next. I’ll take you to Guelph. You’d like it.”

My stomach flip-flops. We’re only halfway through dinner and he’s inviting me to future games. I’m only able to attend out of town games because Sidney’s company pays for the flights and the accommodations, but the thought is nice.

Conversation with Alex is easy. My life isn’t nearly as exciting as his, but he hangs on my every word as if I’m the one with the high profile life, not him.

He shares how difficult it is to be away from home all the time and how it makes relationships hard. I’m not sure if it’s his way of telling me this is only casual. I don’t have the guts to ask, either.

When he orders dessert, they bring two spoons. We only use one.

It’s late by the time we finish. Chivalrous as usual, Alex helps me into my coat at the door. He lifts my hair and brushes his lips across my neck.

As soon as I am secure in the car, my palms start to sweat. I have the urge to bolt or throw myself at him. Either seems like a good option. The latter better than the former.

Alex slips into the driver’s seat and turns to me. “I don’t fly out until early tomorrow afternoon. If you want, you could come to my place.”

“Your place?”

“Or I can take you home, if you’d prefer.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“No?”

I shake my head.

“Good. I don’t particularly want to take you home, either.” His voice gets lower.

I stop breathing and wait for him to kiss me as he leans in. I’m not disappointed.

Neither one of us is buckled in, so we meet in the middle of the console and start making out. We go from kissing to mouth fucking almost instantly. I have a distinct feeling Alex may very well get to see my Victoria’s Secret purchases even without a freak windstorm.