Thirteen
Alex
I have no idea what just came over me. It was like there was this little voice inside my head shouting fuck it when I wrapped my arms around Blaine.
Maybe I'm channeling Nate’s carefree energy.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was super confident, approaching guys in bars and grinding against them in clubs. I would be the one to make the first move on whoever was in my sights, but over the years, that confidence got knocked down, slowly chipped away by guys who didn’t value me.
In hindsight, it was a them problem rather than a me problem, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. And sometimes it only takes that one person to reignite that confidence, and tonight, that person is Blaine.
He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel like I’m the only person in this room. Hell, the only person in this goddamn city, and he makes me feel worthy.
That heat in his eyes every time he looks at me?
It could burn this building to the ground.
The feeling of loss is instant when he drops his hand and takes a step back.
I follow him to fetch the ball, then we move onto the next hole.
A bolt of electricity runs down my spine when he places the ball in my hand, and it takes everything not to melt into a puddle of goo.
I’ve never felt this kind of chemistry with someone before. So strong and great, like an intense magnetism. Just being around him gives me a dopamine rush.
Pull yourself together.
I let out a shaky breath, putting the ball down on the tee, and eye up the hole.
This hole is a little more complex than the first, and I’m assuming the difficulty increases as we go.
I give the ball a small tap and watch as it rolls toward the target.
I hold my breath when it slows, waiting for it to go in, but instead, it settles on the edge of the hole.
“How are you so good at this?” Blaine cocks his head to the side. “Are you secretly a pro mini-golfer, and you were waiting for the perfect time to whip out your hidden talent?”
I chuckle. “No, Nate and I worked at one similar to this briefly in college. It allowed me to hone my skills.” I wink before walking to where my ball stopped; it only takes a little tap now.
I retrieve the ball and head back to where he’s standing. His eyes trail the length of my body before locking with mine. The look he’s giving me is close to the one from that first night. Like he’s starving, and I’m a feast. I’m pretty sure if we weren’t in public, he would devour me.
“Have we found something where I’m better than you?” I tease.
“You’re better than me in many, many ways.” He admits.
I scoff. “I highly doubt that.”
“Trust me.” He steps forward, taking the ball out of my hand. “You’re perfect.” He presses a kiss against my heated cheek, then steps up to take his turn.
How is this guy real? It’s hard to comprehend that this is the same guy who gets dragged through the dirt by the media.
I tug my bottom lip with my teeth, taking in how his broad shoulders fill out his dark green plaid button-down. Wide biceps strain against the material and rolled up sleeves showcase his thick corded biceps.
He’s fucking hot.
And when Blaine bends slightly to take his shot, I internally groan as the dark denim stretches across the tight, rounded globes of his ass.
Hockey butts. They are the holy grail.
There’s nothing I would love more than to drop to my knees, take those cheeks between my hands, and worship the most perfect creation that is a hockey butt.
“Are you checking out my ass?” Blaine asks over his shoulder, his brow lifted in challenge.
There’s no point denying it, I've been caught red handed.
I give an unfazed shrug. “And if I was?”
He drops his putter to the ground with a thud, his turn forgotten as he stalks toward me like a predator would his prey. His eyes blaze with desire, and the closer he gets, the more I unconsciously step back until my back is pressed against the wall. My own putter ends up on the ground at my feet.
Blaine raises his hands, his palms flat against the wall on either side of my head and leans in, running his nose under my jaw. His warm breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. The blood running through my veins is thrumming with anticipation.
“I told you I was trying hard to be a gentleman. I can’t tell you how hard it is not to kiss the hell out of you right now.” He confesses in my ear, his teeth grazing my lobe.
I swallow the lump in my throat as my words come out on a rasp, “Then stop resisting and just kiss me.”
Our lips are only a breath away when he lifts his head. The soft fabric of his shirt brushes against the bare skin of my arms as I take a step closer. Feeling brave, I rest my hands on his hips, dipping my fingertips beneath the tails of his shirt to find the smooth, warm skin of his obliques.
He sucks in a breath at the contact. A ripple of pebbled flesh erupts under my fingers. His hand cradles my jaw, and I lean into the touch before my breath is stolen when his lips sweep against mine.
Holy smokes, Blaine Olsen is kissing me.
I was expecting hot and heavy, but instead it’s tender and soft. A gentle caress of his mouth over mine, the heat from our tongues entwining, and it's like time has slowed. The world pauses as we lose ourselves in each other.
I’m lost in a fantasy world, and it’s better than I could’ve ever dreamed of.
I’m having the best kiss of my life with Blaine Olsen .
He kisses me as though I’m a treasured prize.
Like he’s scared if he goes too hard, too soon, he’ll scare me away.
He tastes of mint and perfection, and I let out a low moan when he pushes one thick thigh between my legs.
I grind against him, aware that we’re still in public, but nothing could stop me from kissing the most amazing man I’ve ever met.
When we part, we’re both gasping for air. I gently tug his bottom lip with my teeth, and his gray eyes are stormy, completely blown dark with desire.
“What are you doing to me?” He whispers, resting his forehead against mine.
I dig my fingers into the firm flesh of his side, unable to form the words to describe the emotions I’m feeling.
He’s surprising me at every opportunity, and it’s dangerous. Dangerous because there’s the potential I could fall, and that means I could get really hurt.
Blaine presses another kiss to my swollen lips, his thumb gliding in a smooth swoop across my jaw. “As tempted as I am to say fuck the golf and take you home, I promised I’d be on my best behavior, so you’re gonna need to distract me.”
A small bubble of laughter escapes me. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
He takes a step back and goes to pick up his discarded putter. “I dunno, ask me something you wanna know about me.”
“Okay.” A million and one questions run through my mind.
There’s so much I want to ask, like why me? What made him want to slam into the boards that night? Why doesn’t he date? Who hurt him?
But instead I settle on, “Tell me about your rookie year. You were drafted young, but stayed in college, right?”
I catch his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise before he nods.
“Yeah, that’s right. I was drafted before I started college at eighteen, but I didn’t sign a contract until the end of junior year, after we won the Frozen Four. So I didn’t end up finishing college.” He hits the ball, watching it bounce off the makeshift walls.
“What made you stay? I know it tends to happen, teams keeping players in for development, but did you have the option to sign there and then?” I ask.
“Yeah, they didn’t offer a contract right away, so I played in the NCAA, using it for development, which also meant I could play with Elliot for a few years because he wasn’t drafted.”
For the next hour, he tells me stories from his school years to winning the cup, and I get to relive the moment from a different perspective from where I witnessed it while I sat on my couch.
We settled into this comfortable place where we laugh and listen to each other's stories, exchanging subtle touches that light my skin on fire.
Once we’re finished at the mini golf course, we make our way to the restaurant, but the closer we get, the more my nerves begin to settle in. Doubt is racing through my mind.
Will he still want to date me after he realizes I’m buried under a mountain of debt, and we’re actually worlds apart?
Will he think differently of me, that I’m not as perfect as he thinks?
* * *
Blaine
We managed to get through the mini golf course.
Barely.
Alex kicked my ass on each one, but being able to make him laugh has made me the real winner.
I should be freaking out that I feel so enamored by him, but I’m not. If anything, I’m freaking out more over the fact that I’m not freaking out.
Maybe this dating thing isn’t as scary as I thought it would be.
Or maybe because it ’ s Alex.
I can tell he’s different from anyone I’ve ever met.
But when we pull up to the valet outside of Fire Garden, he goes eerily quiet. The shift in his energy is palpable. Did I make a bad call? Does he not like it here? Was the whole taco thing his buddy said just a joke when he actually hates tacos?
My mind goes into overdrive over what could have gone wrong. I really hope I haven’t fucked this all up.
“Are you okay?”
He nods but doesn’t look at me. He’s gazing out the window at the restaurant, anxiously chewing on his lower lip.
The valet goes to open my door but I hold my hand up, letting him know we will be ready in a moment, and lean over to rest my hand on Alex's thigh. Taking his chin between my thumb and forefinger with my free hand, I turn his face toward me.
“If you don’t want to eat here, we can go somewhere else. Hell, I’ll be happy with a drive-thru at Portillo’s or Wendy’s. I just wanna get to know you; there’s no pressure.”
His breath comes out in a whoosh, freeing his lip. It’s swollen and red, begging for me to suck it into my mouth. I manage to resist the urge and give him what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“Here is perfect, thank you. I’ve heard they make some pretty incredible tacos.”
“That’s what I’ve heard too.” I wink.
Inside the restaurant, the low murmur of conversations mixed with the Tejano music playing creates a perfect, chilled ambiance.
The walls are painted a deep red, and dark wooden stained booths and tables decorate the floor.
It’s not a fancy place, but it is on the higher scale.
It’s not quite suit and tie, but I’m not out of place in my relaxed lumberjack vibe.
We’re shown to our table, a private booth toward the back, keeping us away from any prying eyes that may want to intrude on our night.
I ease myself into the booth opposite Alex, sinking into the soft red leather.
The low lighting sets the mood, making it feel romantic and intimate.
“I’m James, and I’ll be your server tonight. I’ll give you some time to look over the menu and come back in a few minutes to take your orders,” James says with a smile before pouring us some water.
I thank him without taking my eyes off Alex, noticing his forehead slightly creasing as he scans the menu, tapping his fingers on the table at an almost anxious rhythm.
A far cry from the confident Alex of only a short time ago.
“Is there anything that’s tickling your tastebuds?”
And when he looks up, that’s when I see it.
Worry. Concern. Panic.
Fuck, what have I done?
The blood rushing through my ears blocks out the noise of the restaurant, and my heart pumps a little harder in my chest. “Alex, have I overstepped?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not you, I promise... I just…” He runs a hand through his hair. He looks lost, uncertain. “I feel really out of my depth here. I can barely afford anything on this menu.”
I’m speechless because I didn't see that coming.
Even while I was growing up, I’ve never had to worry about money or prices, and now I have enough in the bank to last me a lifetime. It didn’t even cross my mind for a second that this might be somewhere out of Alex’s range… Not that I ever expected him to pay a dime tonight.
“I’m sorry. I didn't even think about this… but Alex, there’s no way I’m letting you pay for anything tonight.”
Alex shakes his head again. “You paid for golf; I can’t let you pay for dinner too.”
"I don’t know what kind of assholes you’re used to, but I invited you. It's my treat.”
I know he wants to argue when I see his hands fiddling with the napkin in front of him, but I'm not backing down. He lets out a sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, then gives me a sad but grateful smile. “I’ll owe you.”
I wave him off and rest my forearms on the table to lean closer. “One, you don’t. But two, I wouldn't say no to another date.” I grin widely.
The tension disappears from his shoulders when he laughs, and a sigh of relief escapes me.
“How about we have two of everything?” I suggest as I open the menu. “If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it. I’m a growing boy after all.”
Alex raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “ Two ?”
There we go. My Alex is back.
“Yep. I'm going all in. It’s the date to end all dates. All other men will pale in comparison to me.”
Or I hope it will be.
“Trust me, that won't be hard.”
“Tell me.” I cock my head to the side.
He chuckles. “Ex talk isn’t a good idea on a first date.”
“Why not? I wanna know what kind of assholes you used to date.”
He’s silent for a moment, maybe trying to contemplate what to share with me, but either way, I’ll be angry at whoever was lucky enough to be with him and at whoever hurt him in the past.
“I dated a couple of guys in college, it wasn’t anything serious looking back, but I thought I was in love.
They were good at pulling the wool over my eyes, telling me what I wanted to hear, giving me that false sense of security.
It was only when I lost my grandparents that I realized it wasn’t love at all.
” He shrugs. “But enough about that. I don’t want to ruin our night, because it’s been amazing. ”
I grind my molars. “Fuck those assholes. They didn’t deserve you at all. And I’m glad you’re having an amazing night, because I am too. I really like you, Alex. I hope you’ll give me the chance to show you that you’re worth the world.”