Alex (14 page)

“Still had to hurt,” I take a guess.

“Very much,” she says. “But I moved on. He contacted me out of the blue a few weeks ago and wanted to see me again. He’s ready to move forward with our relationship.”

“So he expected you to just wait around for him?”

“I don’t know what he expected,” she says with a sigh. “But I didn’t wait around. I went on with my life. Dated some but nothing serious.”

“So what happened on those two dates?” I ask, my curiosity about to kill me, and depending on what Sutton says, I may want to kill this asswipe.

“First date was fine—a lot of catching up. Second date, he made it clear he wanted to get back together.”

“And what did you want?”

“I wasn’t sure at the time,” she says in a murmur. “I really just wanted to try to be friends first and I was honest with him about it. Painfully so.”

“Have you gotten any clarity on the matter since then?”

“I believe so,” she says, and I can just imagine the quirk of her lips by the teasing tone in her voice. “Seems some hot hockey player has my attention now.”

“Yeah? That’s ironic, because I’m sort of lusting after this hot drug counselor I met.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” she quips.

“I’m thinking it could be,” I agree, my mind turning dark with blistering hot images of what I would do to Sutton when we got around to trying to re-create heaven.

“Seriously, though,” I continue on. “Is this guy still in the picture? Are you still interested in him?” I hold my breath for her answer because this guy could be a major threat. He has history with Sutton.

I have two weeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sutton says quickly. “I called him the other night and told him that I didn’t ever see us making it past friends and if he was harboring hope for something more, I needed to let him know that it was probably a waste of time. I told him that I didn’t want him trying to prove me wrong. I told him…”

She drifts off, almost embarrassed to say what I think she’s getting ready to say.

“Told him what?” I urge.

“That I was seeing someone else. That I was very interested in someone else.”

“And just so I’m clear on the matter, you are talking about me, right?”

She laughs merrily into the phone, causing my smile to flare bright again. “Yes, I was talking about you.”

“Can I see you after the game Saturday afternoon?” I ask her, completely changing the subject.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks, her voice slightly husky and I know she’s thinking of something slightly indecent.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you and your family out to dinner after the game. Then maybe we could do something…together.”

“Like what, together?” she presses.

“Hmm. I do have something specific in mind.”

“Define specific,” she says, her voice light and breathy.

“I think it might involve me putting my hands all over you,” I murmur, and I love the intake of her breath that is loud enough that I can hear it through our phone connection.

She clears her throat. “Anything more specific than that?”

A low laugh bubbles up in my throat. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I can’t wait,” she sighs with a bit of frustration that has my man card elevating from gold to platinum status.

We talk for a bit more, a little of this and a little of that. We find we have a mutual love of B-rated horror movies and fried dill pickles. We are widely divergent in our musical tastes— she’s all hearts and sweet pop and I’m heavy metal and grunge. It is an easy agreement we make that whoever’s car we are driving in gets to pick the music. Which implies that we will be riding in each other’s cars in the future, and probably on more than one occasion.

I’m not exactly sure what is happening here, but I suppose an outsider would say I’m developing a relationship with someone.

My first.

Sadly, my only, and I hope I don’t screw it up.

“You seriously want to take the boys out with us?” I ask Alex for what I think may be the third time.

“It’s a little too late to change my mind,” he says, looking in the rearview mirror of his Suburban to check on Glenn and his two friends in the backseat. “I’ve already invited them. I’m pretty sure they’d riot if I canceled.”

Looking over my left shoulder, I can’t help but grin at Glenn and his two neighborhood buddies, Mickey and Tyrone. Glenn is sitting in the middle, wearing the Cold Fury jersey that Alex gave him. They are all three looking at the game programs they got when we arrived at the arena earlier this afternoon to watch Alex play. Alex had given me four tickets and the original idea had been to bring Glenn, Mom and Jim-Dad. However, my parents backed out the minute they realized Glenn would be happier bringing two of his friends, a move that was sure to earn him cool points and bump up his street cred—especially since the tickets were given to him by Alex Crossman himself. Alex suggested that the boys and I take a cab to the game and he would shuttle us around after, an offer I was all too happy to take him up on—and Glenn and his buddies weren’t complaining either.

Glenn glances up and catches me looking at him with what must be a dopey look on my face, because he shoots me back a toothy grin and actually winks at me. Rolling my eyes, I turn around and face forward.

Turning slightly in my seat to face Alex, I take in the surety with which he is driving the huge SUV, his left wrist casually resting across the top of the steering wheel while he leans his elbow on the center console between us. His profile is as stunning as his front view—it’s a view that I don’t ever tire of looking at.

“It was really nice to invite the kids. I hope it didn’t mess up whatever it was you had planned,” I tell him, turning back to look out the window. We had originally made plans to get something to eat with him after the game, but as soon as we were done eating, I figured we’d bring the kids back to Mom and Jim-Dad’s house because Alex had teased me with the prospect of putting his hands all over me. Instead, Alex had leaned across the table and said, “You guys want to hang out with me and Sutton the rest of the day?”

And of course, the boys screamed in excitement that they did.

Yeah, that was the sweetest thing ever and all I could think was,
Just great. How can he put his hands all over me with three kids tagging along?

“It was no biggie. Didn’t change my plans any.”

My head snaps over to his and he doesn’t miss my sudden movement. He glances at me, eyebrows raised in innocence and lips pursed in amusement.

“Where are we going?” I ask with unbearable curiosity. Where is he taking us that the kids can tag along and he can have his way with me? I must admit the suspense is killing me.

He doesn’t answer but turns on his blinker as he slows to make a right-hand turn into the parking lot of the Cold Fury’s practice rink. I had learned during our first lunch date after I watched Alex’s practice session that this is actually a privately owned rink that is open all week for a variety of ice-related activities such as recreational league hockey and figure skating. Alex told me that it closes only when the Cold Fury need it to practice, although most often they practice in the team’s arena.

The parking lot is only about half full and the boys are bouncing in excitement when they see where we are.

“This is where you practice, right?” Mickey asks.

“Sometimes,” Alex says as he opens the car door and I follow suit. Once we are all standing in front of Alex’s SUV, he asks, “Okay, everyone here know how to ice-skate?”

Glenn, Tyrone and Mickey all nod their heads. I don’t know about the other two boys, but I know Glenn has been ice-skating at a small rink one of the local malls sets up at Christmastime.

Alex turns to me and levels those blue eyes at me with seriousness. “And you?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Sorry. Never been.”

The light that overtakes Alex’s face with his smile almost blinds me, but I can’t contemplate it too long because he grabs my hand. Just before turning to pull me toward the front door of the rink, he leans toward me and murmurs, “That’s a shame. Guess I might have to put my hands on you to keep you from falling.”

Incredulous, I turn to look at him as I nudge him in the ribs and whisper. “So that was your big plan to put your hands on me?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Alex reaches for the front door. He opens it and the kids dart in under his arm, and then he motions me forward. Just before I step past him, he lowers his arm and stops my progress. His other hand reaches up and takes a lock of my hair that’s draping over my shoulder. Rubbing it between his fingers, he looks at my hair as if mesmerized, then slides his gaze to me. “That was my big plan, but trust me when I say I’ve thought of other ways too.”

The tone of his voice is seductive, and a zap of electricity seems to course through my body, straight down to make my fingertips tingle. Alex even takes a step in closer to me, and bends down so we are almost nose-to-nose.

“Have you thought of ways? Ways I would put my hands on you?”

Swallowing hard, I can barely get the word out because my mouth has gone dry. “Yes.”

“Good,” he says as he steps back and raises his arm so I can pass. “We’ll compare notes on that later.”

My legs are so jelly-like from the words that Alex seduces me with, I have a feeling he’s going to have his work cut out trying to hold me upright on the ice. Somehow that doesn’t seem like a losing proposition to me.

I follow Alex up to a large counter where a teenage boy is working. When he sees Alex walking toward him, his eyes get as large as saucers and he swallows hard.

Alex pulls his wallet out of his jeans pocket and opens it up. “Two adults and three kids, and we’re all going to need skates.”

We tell the boy our skate sizes and he about trips over his feet in his haste to get everything as quickly as possible. He rings the total cost and Alex pays him, winking at me as the boys grab their skates and run off to the benches in the lobby area to put them on.

Taking his change, Alex turns away but the boy behind the counter says in a timid voice, “Um…Mr. Crossman? Could I…?”

His voice trails off as his eyes hit the floor. Alex is looking at him with his head cocked to the side curiously. “What’s up, bud?”

The kid’s eyes pop back up over the reassurance in Alex’s voice and widen even farther. “Could I get your autograph?”

“Sure thing,” he says as he steps back up to the counter and rewards the boy with a smile. Pushing paper and a pen to Alex, the kid is practically vibrating with energy as he waits for the autograph. When Alex pushes it back to him, the kid reverently holds it up and says, “Thanks, Mr. Crossman. You’re a lot nicer than a lot of people make you out to be.”

I watch as something flickers across Alex’s face and I think it may be guilt…maybe even a bit of pain. His smile is a little dimmer when he nods at the kid, taking my hand and leading me over to the benches to put our skates on.

Squeezing his hand, I ask, “Did that bother you?”

“Nah,” Alex says, releasing my hand and sitting down on a bench. I plop down beside him. “Kid has it backward. I’m actually a lot meaner than what he just saw.”

My heart tears open a little over the bitterness in Alex’s voice. “Don’t do that.”

He turns to look at me in surprise. “Do what?”

“Don’t fall into the mold that people put you in. You are only what you want to be. If you want to be nice, be nice. If you want to be mean, be mean. But don’t do it because anyone expects it of you. Do it for yourself.”

Alex stares at me a long moment, then his hand comes up to grip me behind my neck. He squeezes gently but with enough effort to get my attention. “You’re seeing a softer side to me, Sutton, and I like that you like it. But don’t make the mistake of ever putting a coat of sugar on me. I’m a whole lot mean too. You’ve seen it once…I know you’ll see it again. I’m built that way.”

Reaching up, my fingers curl around his wrist as he holds me by the neck. I don’t push him away but rather squeeze him to hold him in place. “Tell me, Alex, what exactly is this warning supposed to do? Scare me away? Provide me adequate notice so you don’t have guilt when you hurt me at some point?”

Alex’s hands quickly migrate to grab my face and he pulls me in before I can even protest. He crushes his lips against mine, giving me a hard, quick kiss before pulling back. Resting his forehead against mine, he says, “I don’t want to scare you away. I’d come running after you. So yeah, I’m giving you warning so I can be the first to say ‘I told you so’ and so you know I’m a man who lives up to the expectations placed upon him.”

“That’s a problem, then,” I tell him softly as I squeeze harder onto his wrist so he understands the urgency of what I’m saying. “Because I don’t have that expectation of you. In fact, I expect you to rise above it and prove yourself wrong.”

Giving me a quick kiss on the forehead, Alex releases me and turns to start pulling on his skates. “You’re like the good little angel that sits on my shoulder telling me positive things and acting as my conscience.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” I ask with a laugh as I kick my tennis shoes off.

“Well, the corrupting little devil is usually dressed in a really sexy outfit and that is so much nicer to imagine.”

Snorting, I pull on the first skate and start to tighten the laces. “I can be corrupting too, you know. I have layers.”

“I look forward to peeling them away, then,” Alex says as he leans over, placing his lips near my ears. Those words come out in a low growl and cause goose bumps to break out all over my skin.

Whether I’m any good at ice-skating or not is irrelevant. I already plan to be clumsy and try to fall as many times as possible just so Alex can put his hands all over me.

Alex pulls into my driveway and kills the engine. It was a quiet ride from my parents’ house where we had just dropped off Glenn and his friends.

Without a word he gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around to my side. My heart is thrumming wildly within my chest because I’m thinking Alex is going to make good on his threat to put his hands all over me some more. He certainly did so at the ice rink, but his touches were gentle and chaste, suitable for public display. It may have been just holding my elbow to guide me around the ice, or swiftly grabbing me around my waist if I started to fall. Once, he even took both my hands in his and skated backward, leading me around the ice. I made the mistake of getting sucked into his cobalt gaze and lost my footing more than once, so he needed to wrap his arms around me to prevent a spill to the ice.

But those touches left me aching and needful because I knew that whatever it was that Alex was showing me now would be only a fraction of what he could show me when we were alone.

My door opens and Alex holds his hand out and I take it. He walks me across my sidewalk and up my porch, where I notice that my light to the right of my door is burned out. It causes the light on the left to cast dark shadows across half the doorway. As I reach the top step, Alex releases my hand and I move in front of him to unlock my door.

I’m so nervous now my hands are shaking, and it’s a miracle I pull my keys out of my purse on the first attempt. Just as I’m about to insert my key into the lock, I feel Alex step up right behind me, and my hand shakes harder. He steps in even closer and places his hands on the door, palms flat and just to either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

We’re not touching anywhere but I’m profoundly aware of everything. Heat radiates off of him and the subtle smell of freshness from his body wash hits my nose. I can practically feel the planes of his chest and abdomen touching my back, even though there is still a void between us. Alex doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, and his stillness causes my pulse to slam harder, my imagination to kick into overdrive.

Will he be soft or demanding of me?

As if sensing my need for some type of answer, he steps in closer until his chest is whispering against my shoulder blades. The contact causes a shiver to run through me, and I know he can feel my reaction because he lets out a gust of breath against the back of my head.

Ever so softly and still so very silently, he drops his right hand from the doorway. With utter assurance and no second-guessing how much I’m willing to give him, he slips his fingers up under the hem of my shirt, skimming over the waistband of my jeans until his palm rests flat and so very hot against my stomach.

Another shiver runs through me, and my breath releases through my teeth in a shaky pant.

Alex gently pushes against my stomach, forcing me backward until my entire backside rests against the front of him. Now I can feel every single detail of his body, from the thick cut of his pectoral muscles, to his iron-hard stomach, all the way down to the erection that is now pressing into my lower back. Alex lets out a soft groan when our bodies touch.

The minute I feel his hardness and I understand just how much this magnificent man wants me, I become completely overwhelmed with lust and desire. My head falls back against his chest and I whisper, “Oh God.”

I wait…poised for Alex to make a sudden move. The sexual tension between us is so thick, it’s almost suffocating. I feel tight like a stretched rubber band, poised to snap at the first movement he makes. It’s a moment when two people might launch themselves at each other in a fury of lust and pulsing need.

But rather than a frenzied attack to release the pressure that seems to have built to straining proportions, Alex leans his head down to the side of my own, placing his lips just near my chin. He then does nothing more than pull backward, running his lips and the stubble of his own chin along my jawline, deliciously scratching my skin.

When his lips reach just below my ear, he presses a light kiss there. Left palm still lying flat against my door, he presses on my stomach lightly with his other hand, pushing me back just a fraction harder onto his erection. Pressing another kiss to my jaw, he moves his lips to my ear and says softly, “Good night, Sutton. I had a great time with you today.”