Seven
Blaine
The following morning is filled with practice, having our aches and pains taken care of by the team physical therapists and watching some video footage ahead of tonight's game against Detroit. It should be an easy win, considering we haven’t lost a single game against them this season, and they’re pretty much bottom of the league.
But even with those stats on our side, we don’t let up on the preparation. You can never be too prepared for a game.
We listen intently as Coach goes through tape, pointing out Detroit's weaknesses in their defense and the textbook plays their offense always run.
The room’s set up like a mini movie theater. Black leather recliners embossed with the Thunder logo on the headrest, all facing a large screen with a small podium where Coach Harris and the video coach are sitting to the left.
I bounce my leg as anxiety creeps in, time ticking by slower than normal. I’ve got approximately an hour between the end of this session and needing to be home for my pre-game nap. I could get to Lincoln Park and back within that time.
I couldn’t believe my luck yesterday when I saw Alex right there behind the counter at the dessert place Zach was craving. It was like fate was throwing the guy I couldn't forget about into my path again.
Leaning over to Elliot, I lower my voice so Coach doesn’t yell at me for interrupting. “El, wanna come with me to that dessert place after we’re finished here?”
His eyes narrow, a knowing smile creeping across his lips. “Why?”
I rotate my phone on the arm of the chair between my fingers as nerves bubble in my stomach.
I don’t want to admit that I’m itching to see Alex again.
I’ve found myself reading through the texts we’ve exchanged in the past twenty-four hours, and I’ve had to mentally restrain myself from being too pushy.
“I don’t suppose it has anything to do with the blond hottie? Alex?” Elliot’s mouth twitches. “You gonna ask him out again?”
I shrug, hoping it comes across nonchalantly, and not wanting to tell him I've been doing that already. “I dunno? Maybe?”
He snickers. “You got it baaaaad,” he sings.
I flip him off. “Shut up.”
“Blaine’s got it baaaaad.”
“Tendy Olsen!” Coach slams his palm against his little podium, pointing his index finger at Elliot. “If you interrupt me one more time, I’m going to be benching you for the next three games, and no power break dancing for you.”
Elliot mock gasps, his hand flying to his chest. “But you wouldn’t dare , Coach!”
Coach raises a challenging brow, his silent glare screaming try me , and Elliot quickly holds his hands up in surrender.
Nobody can take Elliot’s on-ice dancing away from him.
“Count me in. I could eat a donut or two right now,” Zach whispers from behind.
Well, now that I’ve managed to find a way to see him without looking like I’m stalking him, all that’s left to do is figure out how to get Alex to say yes instead of maybe.
* * *
When I push open the door to the bakery thirty minutes later, I freeze on the spot at the unfamiliar face behind the counter. He looks a little similar to Alex; same angelic features, but his hair is a darker blond, and he looks older. He flashes a smile, but it’s not as gorgeous as Alex’s.
“Hey, welcome! How can I help you?” He asks.
Zach goes straight to the glass cabinet, crouching down like yesterday, his gaze bouncing from all the different cookies, cupcakes, and donuts. I scan the shop, hoping Alex will appear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Fuck. Did I miss him? Does he not work on Tuesdays?
“Is Alex here?” I blurt.
The guy's eyebrows go up. “Uh, he’s just stepped out. Is there anything I can help with? Would you like me to pass on a message?”
Maybe fate isn’t on my side after all.
I’m about to open my mouth to tell him not to worry about it when Elliot beats me to it.
“My brother here would like to court Alex.”
My head snaps to my brother. Court? Are we in eighteenth-century England?
“The fuck, El?”
Elliot shushes me with a finger to his lips and waves his hand to be quiet. The guy looks kinda startled when he steps up to the counter.
“Blaine and Alex met a few nights ago, and when we came in yesterday, Blaine asked him on a date, but he said no.” Elliot chuckles.
“You should have seen his face; he was like a sad puppy. Anyway, my broski here would like to ask Alex on another date because it seems he’s playing a bit hard to get. ”
The guy's brows drop into a deep frown. His eyes roam over me, but it doesn’t feel like he’s checking me out. It feels judgmental, like I’m under inspection.
“I can’t answer for my brother, but I can let him know you’ve stopped by.” His tone is a little dismissive.
Brother? Oh fuck.
Wow, way to make a good impression, Olsen.
My stomach churns with unease. If his brother doesn’t like me—for whatever reason—this is going to ruin my chances. Alex isn’t going to give me a second thought. I’ve gotta think fast.
“Can you give him a message?”
He nods.
“Can you let him know there’ll be two tickets for tonight’s game waiting for him at will call?”
I don’t miss the way his eyes widen slightly before quickly schooling his features. “Sure, I’ll let him know.”
Once Zach finally chooses his two donuts, Alex still isn’t back. It would be weird to hang around any longer, and I need my pre-game nap. Admitting defeat, we head back to my Range Rover, and I fire off a text to the Thunder’s PR manager, Colleen, praying she sees it in time to help me out.
Blaine
Col, babe, I need your help.
Blaine
Can you leave two tickets at will call for Alex?
Blaine
IDK his last name. Put Alex from Jacob's Delicious Desserts?
Colleen
No problem.
Then I quickly send a text to Alex.
Blaine
Hey.
Blaine
I stopped by to see you, I’m sad that I missed you.
Blaine
I’m not stalking you, btw.
Blaine
I mean, I had to go because Zach wanted donuts, and I don’t wanna say no to the big guy because he can get a lil scary when he’s hungry.
Blaine
Anyway, I would love to see you tonight at my game. I’ve left two tickets for you at will call. Hope I see you later *kissing emoji*
Later, my pre-game nap is unsettled by anxious thoughts gnawing at me. Why do I want to see this guy so bad? Why is it bothering me the way it is? Why do I want him so badly?
I have no fucking idea. I can’t quite put my finger on why Alex gets to me.
I haven’t felt this off-center since the NHL draft, but I have to try and push him to the back of my mind because we’ve got a hockey game to win.