10. Getting Closer #2
Fuck. I can’t let Bex walk home alone. I promised Luke and Jamie that I would help to keep her safe.
I might be an asshole, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to Bex. I have to wait for her. I have no excuse, especially since I’m going home, too.
“What are you still doing here?” She doesn’t make eye contact when she steps outside, keys in hand, to lock up the building’s main door.
“It’s dark. We still haven’t heard anything from Ares, so I’m walking you home.”
My tone brooks no arguments, but of course she does argue.
“There’s no need.” She locks up, her back to me, her posture stiff.
I have no one to blame but myself, since I offended her by acting like a total jerk.
“Bex,” I say as gently as I can muster. “After what happened the night of the inauguration, I can’t let you walk home alone. I promised Jamie and Luke that I’d help them watch over you.”
She turns around so fast her long blonde hair hits my arm like I whip. “I said there’s no need.”
Why? Why does this woman have to be the bane of my existence, whether I hate her or want her?
“It doesn’t matter what you think you need.” I insist. “I’m a man of my word, and I’m walking you home.”
The noise of a car engine sounds louder than it would on the deserted road and the otherwise empty parking lot.
I recognize it even before Connor gets out of the driver’s seat.
Connor
“Hey beautiful,” I eat the distance between us in seconds, but stop once I get close, unsure of how I should greet her.
I mean, she’s had my cock in her mouth, but somehow kissing her like I’m dying to do doesn’t feel appropriate.
She saves me from the awkward moment by offering me her cheek to kiss.
Fuck, she smells so good. “Are you ready to go get something to eat?”
Her lips part in a smile that reaches her eyes. “I hope you’re not easily impressionable. I’m absolutely starving, and it’s not going to be just a salad with everything on the side.”
“Noted.” I chuckle. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. A woman who picks at her food and orders plain lettuce isn’t my ideal date.”
Bex’s smile widens. “Good, because that isn’t me. Not even if I’m not on the brink of passing out because I’m hungry. Let’s go; the food hall should be quiet at this time.”
I take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. “We aren’t going to the food hall. I hope you like Italian. I booked a table at Morelli’s.”
“I love Italian; it’s my favorite. But you didn’t have to go all out like that. Luke told me that’s where he went with Shane on their first date, and it sounds like a fancy place.”
That’s exactly why I chose it. And it’s also somewhere I haven’t been with my ex, who was exactly the kind of woman who orders a salad minus anything fun. “It’s our first date. I want to do it right.”
I’m so excited about our date that I barely notice Keene until he clears his throat.
“Well, then.” He says with a glare. “Since Bex isn’t walking home alone, I’m off.”
“Great. See you later, brother.” The words haven’t even left my mouth when I hesitate.
I don’t want to let Keene crash our date, but not asking him to join us feels rude. I can see the way he looks at Bex, even now.
The dude’s in total denial about how hard he’s crushing on Bex.
To the point that my effort as a wingman was totally wasted the other night.
He shot down every suggestion I made, and he was cold and dismissive with every girl who actually tried to get his attention.
All he did was stare in the direction Jamie and Bex had disappeared, keeping time to how long they were gone.
It really isn’t up to me to make him come to terms with his own feelings.
I’m on board with Jamie’s idea that he can date Bex with us, but I have my own relationship to think about.
Fuck, I hate myself sometimes. “Hey Keene, I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?” My ex told me that one of the reasons why she cheated is that I’m too nice. In her opinion, nice guys really do finish last.
But Keene is my best friend, and I can’t stand the way he’s looking at us right now.
“Join you? On your date?”
His eyebrows hit his hairline, and I roll my eyes to convey that I know exactly what’s going on in that thick skull of his.
It’s obvious that he wants to say yes. He sounded like someone had kicked his puppy when he said that he didn’t need to walk Bex home since I was here.
“I, uh…” he hesitates.
“Make up your mind, Keene.” Bex bites out, clearly annoyed. “Before I starve to death.”
By the way they’re glaring at each other, I must assume that their precarious truce is on the rocks again.
“Yeah, no. Maybe next time. I have homework to finish and an early class tomorrow. See you both later.”
I open the passenger door for Bex, running around the front of my car to get into the driver’s seat.
I could count the times Bex and I have been alone on one hand, and I’d be lying if I said that I’m not a little nervous right now.
The drive to downtown Star Cove is short but pleasant; it couldn’t be any different with Bex by my side.
There’s nothing I would like more than to hold her hand or put her hand on my thigh or touch her in one way or another, but I fight the urge. We’re still in uncharted waters, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck this up.
“So how did your first workshop go?” I ask partly to make conversation until we get to the restaurant, and partly because I really want to know.
“It was great. Everyone was so excited and full of enthusiasm. Most of the art pieces that were made tonight were really cool.”
The way she lights up when she talks about it is endearing. “It couldn’t be any different since they have you as an instructor.”
“Connor,” she giggles. “I didn’t really do anything special. All I’m there for is to offer guidance with painting and sculpting techniques and materials and to bounce off ideas with the students. They’re the ones who have to do all the work.”
I stop the car in front of the elegant Italian restaurant. “Even so, that’s very valuable. You don’t win a Frozen Four or a Stanley Cup without a great coach.”
“True.” She smiles.
The valet comes to get my keys, effectively interrupting our conversation.
“Allow me, pretty girl.” I run to open her door and offer her my hand.
As we walk into the restaurant, I’m aware of the fact that every head is turning to look at us.
Bex notices too. “What is everyone looking at?” she whispers as our hostess grabs some menus and asks us to follow her to our table.
“You really don’t know?” I ask.
“No. Maybe I’m a little underdressed for this place?”
I’m not surprised that she has to ask. I don’t think Bex knows that she’s drop dead gorgeous. It isn’t an act. She just doesn’t seem to see what other people see when they look at her.
“You’re dressed more than appropriately.” My eyes skim over the pale pink soft blouse and the charcoal gray pencil skirt that hug her curves like a glove.
“They’re looking at us.” I say softly. “At you. They’re thinking I’m the luckiest man in town to have you on my arm.”
As I expected, she chuckles. “They’re definitely not just looking at me, Con. Have you seen yourself? You’re so tall, handsome, and blond like a Viking. I bet every woman in this restaurant and probably on campus would pay to be in my shoes right now.”
I appreciate the compliment. “Then maybe they think we’re a great-looking couple.”
“I like that.” She beams.
When the hostess shows us to our table, I move the chair for Bex.
The arrival of our waiter doesn’t leave me much time to agonize about taking her hand or not, as I sit opposite her.
After hearing about today’s specials and consulting the drink menu, we weigh our options.
“I’m driving, so I’m probably better off skipping the wine. Besides, Coach has been on our case about drinking during the season after Tucker’s antics at last week’s inauguration. But if you want wine or a cocktail, you should absolutely order one.”
She shakes her head. “A bottle of sparkling water would be perfect for me. I have the opening shift at the art center tomorrow morning, so I prefer not to drink.”
We order sparkling water for both of us and two tasting menus that feature several types of homemade pasta.
I also order eggplant parm and some meatballs in vodka sauce for the table. At the last second, I also ask for french fries and mushroom crostini.
“That’s a ton of food, Con. Are you sure the entire hockey team isn’t joining us?” Bex giggles.
“What?” I tease. “I thought you were starving.”
Bex takes a sip of her sparkling water, and I can’t take my eyes off of her pink, soft lips.
I’m dying to kiss her, but at the same time I want to take my time getting to know her. I know we’ve started with a hookup, but I plan on being a gentleman tonight, and that doesn’t include any kissing.
“I am starving. But there’s no way two people could consume all that food in one sitting.”
“Pretty girl,” I chuckle, taking her hand in mine. “Have you seen me eat? I could probably eat all that food by myself. But if for some reason we can’t finish everything, I’m sure Keene and Jamie won’t say no to a doggie bag.”
That seems to put her at ease. “You’re right.
Sorry, I still get a little weird about food.
When I lived in my father’s house, he had all of his clients on strict diets.
I don’t think I’ve seen a french fry in over two years.
He kept cutting and cutting my calorie intake, but I never quite hit the target weight he had set for me.
He had tightened my diet even more before the wedding, but when I left, I was still ten pounds away from the goal. ”
I’ve heard about some of the reasons why Bex fled the Pure Shine house in passing, but I had no idea things were so dire.
“I’m sorry, but your father was out of line.
You’re perfect. I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but you really didn’t have ten pounds to lose a month ago.
Since you got here, you’re looking healthier.
But what matters the most is that you’re comfortable in your own skin.
No one should be allowed to make you feel bad about your weight.
Not your father, your boyfriend or husband. ”
If my relationship with my ex taught me anything, it’s that talking about a woman’s weight is a legit minefield. So I’m relieved when Bex takes what I said, the way I intended it.
“I think you’re right, Con. Deep down, I don’t think my dad even cared about my weight. Everything he did, every rule he imposed on us, was about control.”
I understand exactly where she’s coming from.
“I get it. My dad wasn’t that controlling, but it has always been clear that my job was to follow in his footsteps and play in the NHL.
I know he wants the best for me, and I love hockey.
But if I had ever wanted to quit, I know our relationship would have been irreparably damaged.
He didn’t even take it well when Coach Harrison had me playing defense.
He expected me to be a center like him, and he almost flew here to sit down with Coach and demand that I play in his same position. ”
Bex rubs the space between my thumb and my index finger; her touch is light and soothing.
“I think I understand how you grew up. Art was always my real passion. I’ve always loved to dance, but it wasn’t until I was goofing around with a friend on the Bridgeport dance team and our video went viral that my father decided I had to quit everything else and focus on a social media career.
I went along with it because I wanted to please him, but I didn’t realize how much I missed art until I got here. ”
I open my mouth to express my feelings about the way her father treated her, but someone clears their throat.
A young girl, probably a tween, is standing a couple of steps away from our table, staring at Bex with stars in her eyes.