He is absolutely splendid, and my tongue seems to be tied up in a knot within my mouth. He just stares down at me, his eyebrows raised.
“Scoot over, Sutton,” he repeats, a tiny smirk gracing his lips.
“Oh, sure,” I say, my brain starting to fire up on all cylinders again. Pushing my purse aside and grabbing my tea, I move over close to the wall of the booth while Alex slides in next to me.
He’s a huge guy and even with me pressed over as far as I can go, his leg rests up warmly against mine, causing my heartbeat to start fluttering.
Alex stares at me a moment longer, then his head turns and he looks at Monica across the table.
“And who is this?” he asks me, even as he holds his hand across the table for Monica. She shakes his hand and giggles, twirling her hair around her free fingertip.
“This is Monica,” I mutter. “I met her at the game. ”
“That’s right,” Alex says smoothly. “You were sitting next to Sutton. Hard not to notice. ”
I want to roll my eyes and make a gagging motion with my index finger in my mouth, but yeah, that went out of style in the third grade, so I clamp my lips shut and stare at my tea while Alex and Monica make small talk.
Chapter 7
Alex
Sutton’s leg feels f**king amazing pressed up against mine and for the life of me I can’t figure out why.
But then again, I can’t figure out a lot of things about this woman. For instance, why did I send her only one ticket to the game? If I’m honest with myself, it’s because she told me she had a date the other night and I didn’t want her to bring another guy.
Or, why was I compelled to pay more attention to her during the game than the actual game? Maybe it had something to do with the first time I saw her tonight, walking down the stairs toward her seat. I knew exactly where she’d be sitting and figured I’d catch sight of her at some point.
I didn’t figure there would be like a magical, magnetic pull of my eyes that caused me to look up at the staircase splitting sections 110 and 111 as she was walking down.
She looked amazing, dressed in a tight black sweater, with her gleaming red hair shining out like a beacon. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, taking in the sights of what was her first hockey game. I could almost imagine she would be feeling the excitement of the screaming fans and the bass beat of the rock music within her chest. It actually gave me a moment of excitement, knowing that she was probably in sensory overload as she took in the sights and smells of her first professional hockey event.
It almost knocked me to my knees as I realized that it was the first time—probably since I was a teenager—that something about a hockey game had caused an almost giddy rush inside of me. I tried to hold the feeling, tried to let it seep into my senses¸ but it was fleeting and then gone.
Then I just made do with watching Sutton whenever I could sneak a glance. I didn’t expect her eyes to be on me the entire time, and just as I expected, she immersed herself in the action. She was either on the edge of her seat or surging to her feet to scream out cheers, often jumping up and down with some blonde, their arms wrapped around each other.
I was not happy to see said blonde sitting at our table when I arrived at Hoolihan’s. I had been actually looking forward to talking to Sutton alone. I mean, I knew it would only be about business, but f**k if she hasn’t been plaguing my thoughts the last few days, and I know that there’s something to this girl that I need to pay attention to. A gut instinct, so to speak.
There was one good thing about Marissa…Melinda…no, wait, Monica joining us. It meant that I got to slide into the booth next to Sutton, and enjoy the warmth of her touch against me as I painfully withstood the flirting Monica was handing out.
Glancing over at Sutton, I see that she’s pulled her iPhone out of her purse and seems to be reading a text. Clearly we’re boring her, and I don’t like not having her attention.
“What did you think of the game, Sutton?” I ask her, noticing that she flinches slightly when she hears her name.
Putting her phone down, she says, “It was amazing. I’m unfortunately hooked. ”
“I can get you tickets any time you want them,” I tell her. “That seat in particular if you like it. ”
“Oh, that would be awesome,” Monica squeals in delight, clapping her hands.
I don’t even spare her a glance but keep my eyes focused on Sutton, repressing a laugh over the way she winces when that unholy sound comes out of Monica’s mouth.
“That would be nice,” Sutton says, “although I’d love to bring my little brother sometime. ”
“I can get you two tickets anytime. Just let me know,” I tell her and I’m blinded by the smile she gives me.
“Thanks,” she says. “That’s really nice. ”
Yeah…me and nice, that doesn’t sound right together, but if I can get her to smile at me like that just from offering a couple of hockey tickets, I’ll keep doing it.
“Oh. My. God,” Monica says dramatically, and both Sutton and I swing our gazes across the table to her. “I cannot believe I’ve been sitting here this entire time and haven’t even asked Alex for an autograph. ”
She looks at me with expectation, but I’m not sure what she expects me to do. Whip out paper and pen from thin air? I feel Sutton moving beside me and look to see her rustling through her purse. She pulls out a small pad of paper and a pen, and pushes them across the table at me.
“Yay,” Monica squeals again, and this time I’m the one who winces. Then she leans across the table and says, “And I wouldn’t be averse to you putting your number on there too. ”
Okay, that’s just awkward but I give her a chastising smile as I quickly scrawl my name and number—jersey number, that is—on the pad of paper. “Now, now, Monica, save the heavy-duty flirting for some other time. Sutton and I do have business to discuss. ”
“Oh,” she says, her voice small and thin. Thank God the squealing seems to be done for now.
Ripping the paper off, I hand it across the table to Monica and she greedily snags it from my grip, her eyes roaming over my signature like it’s a prime piece of beef or something.