Alexa jumped and he suppressed a smile. He hadn't meant to scare her but he couldn't help but be amused.
"It felt like the world was at our feet," Eric said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Like we could do anything."
"I think I was fifteen at the time," Alexa said. "Luckily, Dan was a Texas boy selected by a Texas team in the draft, so we didn't have to travel very far to watch him play. He made everyone in our family so proud, especially our grandfather."
"Whereas all of my family is in Sweden," Eric told her, "but my mom flew out. She wouldn't have missed it for the world."
"That's why moms are the best," Alexa said with a small smile.
Eric let Alexa put the picture back on the mantel. He watched with curious fascination as she tried to make sure it looked exactly as it had before she grabbed it. When she finished, she stepped back and Eric handed her the clothes.
"Here you are," he said. "You can change into these. They're dry."
Alexa took the offered clothes, nodding her head. Her face was hidden behind a wall of hair. "Thank you," she murmured. "Bathroom?"
"Down that hall, first door on the left," he said, pointing to where she needed to go.
Eric looked at the pictures she had been staring at, wondering why Alexa was here in the first place. If it was an emergency, surely she would have said something about it by now? She wouldn't be waiting to tell him. Unless she couldn't find the words to say. Unless she was trying to buy time.
Eric shook his head, turning from the mantel. Whatever the reason she was here, it wasn't in his best interest to speculate. If anything, he needed to be patient. Alexa wasn't the sort of person who just turned up for no reason. She would be here and she would tell him what was going on. Hopefully, it wasn't anything serious.
The sound of shuffling tickled his ears, and he stepped back to see Alexa step back into the living room, her arms carrying her wet clothing. Somehow, Eric was paralyzed just watching her move in his clothing, the way they swallowed up her petite frame. And yet, he couldn't help but think just how beautiful she truly was. There was something about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that inability to figure her out at first glance made him want her more.
Which was definitely a very bad idea.
"So," he said when she walked in. There was an awkwardness between the two of them. They had never hung out before without Dan, without someone else, and the fact that they were together now made things seem slightly heavy. "Is everything okay, Lexi?"
Alexa opened her mouth to respond, her eyes on the ground, arms crossed over her chest, looking both sad and…ashamed. Ashamed of what, though? Alexa was not the sort of girl who did the wrong thing. If anything, she was the quintessential good girl. An angel, so to speak. So for her to look like this… For her to come to him… Something terrible must have happened.
"Tim broke up with me," she said, finally lifting her eyes to meet him.
He furrowed his brows before he could stop himself. Break-ups were never fun—one of the reasons why he didn't partake in being with someone at all—but that didn't explain why she was here at his place alone. Shouldn't she be crying over a tub of ice cream?
"I know I shouldn't be here," Alexa said, crossing her arms over her chest and crossing back over to the fire place. "But honestly, I felt like I couldn't go anywhere else. Tim broke up with me because I'm a virgin."
Well. That was a surprise. Not the fact that she was a virgin, but that she would share this information with him without hesitation.
"Actually, he said he had been waiting too long for us to have sex and he was over it." She began to fiddle with the hemline of the shirt he lent her. "And maybe he's right. I am inexperienced. And I don't want to be inexperienced anymore. I came to you because you're one of the most experienced guys I know who doesn't already have a girlfriend. And I want your help."
"My help?" Eric asked slowly. He wasn't sure where this was going or if it was a good thing.
"I need you to teach me how to please men," Alexa said. Her voice was firm, not shy like he expected it to be. "I need you to give me that experience. I promise I won't get feelings for you or anything. I just, I want to know how to do these things so this won't happen again. Please, Eric. Will you help me?"
He should say no. His first reaction was to say no.
And yet, as he kept looking at her, he couldn't seem to find that word.
Instead, he took a step towards her and nodded his head. "If that's what you want," he said, "I can help you."
3
Alexa
The fact that Eric agreed to help her was enough to exhilarate her and make her nervous at the same time. Eric had a knack for creating conflicting emotions, especially in her. Alexa had met him three years ago when she was just twenty-one and he was twenty-eight. He reminded her of a Viking in casual clothes—he was tall, definitely six foot four at the least, with muscles on muscles but not in an overwhelming way. If anything, there was a leanness about him, but he wasn't skinny. When he checked someone into the boards or knocked someone down, their bones rattled. More than that, he had sky-blue eyes and sharp facial features, short blond hair that he liked to comb back from his face, and a presence that caused chills to run up and down her spine.
Eric was drop-dead gorgeous, so it made sense that he constantly had the attention of women everywhere. A different woman was on his arm each of the few times Alexa had been invited to go out with them, and each one couldn't stop staring at him.
Alexa couldn't blame them. She couldn't stop staring at him, even being with Tim at times. He had caught her a few times as well, which mortified her to say the least. She always made an effort to avoid him if she could, because the last thing she wanted to do in front of Eric was make herself look like a fool.
Until now.
Now, Eric could help her with her problem.
Alexa sucked in a breath and glanced at the clothes in her closet. She had been to hockey games before—so many games that she had lost track of—and yet this one stumped her as to what she should wear. She refused to be those women who were on dates with guys into hockey, wearing shorts or skirts and high heels. The ice rink was freezing and she didn't understand how they even handled being in the freezing cold for three hours. She also refused to be the women that didn't try—sweatpants, loose shirt, no makeup, messy bun. She wanted to impress Eric. She wanted to show him that she could put time and effort into her appearance. That was part of seducing a guy, right? Looking a particular way?
In the end, Alexa settled on a long-sleeved shirt and tight skinny jeans. She straightened her wavy hair and put it back in a ponytail, put a Rangers cap over her head, and high tops on her feet. Her makeup was done, but not overwhelmingly so. She was a sporty woman tonight—a Rangers fan who cared about hockey and looking cute.
Honestly, Alexa didn't care, but at least she was comfortable.
She left her apartment and hopped in her car. Dan always left a ticket for her at will call no matter what. He wanted to let her know she was always welcome to the games—a gesture she greatly appreciated, even if she didn't always make it. Tim wasn't a huge hockey fan unless he had to take clients to games, and he made no secret of his lack of interest in the sport, even when Dan was with them. It was rude and Alexa was always apologizing to him on behalf of him.
"I don't want your apology," Dan would say. "I want his."
As such, Dan always made sure to only leave one ticket unless Alexa specifically requested two, in case she brought her best friend, Jude. Dan liked Jude—probably more than should be allowed considering they all grew up together and Jude was Alexa's best friend—and had no problem going out of his way to get her an extra ticket.
The drive to the arena was quick, but the wait to park was at least twenty minutes. Cars were lined up, curving around the corner. Police had to direct traffic against the lights just to ensure there wasn't an abundance of waiting cars blocking the intersections. She probably should hav
e left earlier, but she didn't mind the wait. Hopefully by the time she did park, the lines to actually get into the arena would be smaller.
Another ten minutes of finding a spot, picking up her ticket, and going through security, and Alexa was finally hit with a sudden burst of cold as she stepped inside the building. Dan always got her the same ticket. It was on the glass, in the lower section in the middle behind the Ranger’s bench. It was one of the best seats in the house. He liked to joke that the only reason he was able to get the seat was because he was an amazing goalie and management didn't want to give him an excuse to be angry. Sometimes, Alexa could see why her brother was still single—he could be a nerd.
By the time she sat down, the national anthem just finished playing and the first line on the ice was skating around their side, warming up their muscles and calming their nerves. Alexa saw Dan standing between the pipes, head down, probably saying a small prayer the same way he did when he was a mite playing goalie at six years old. Eric was on the ice as well, on the right side.
The referee skated to the middle, and as he dropped the puck, the game began.
- - -
Alexa didn't know if it was because she had practically been raised in ice rinks or if it was because as much as she loved her father, she refused to play hockey because Eric always did, but Alexa had no desire to get on the ice herself, even though she'd had ample opportunity to do so. That meant she could barely skate. As she watched the players fly up and down the ice, pushing a rubber puck with a plastic stick, dodging bodies and other sticks, she couldn't help but be in awe of their grace, their balance, and their ability to retain the masculine ferocity of the game. This, she felt, made hockey so compelling. Ice skating was something that tended to reflect more feminine features, and yet, these men were some of the toughest people she knew, fighting, shoving, hitting, checking, and everything else to make sure the other team did not get the puck in the net.
After last night, her eyes could not help but seek out Eric whenever he hopped over the boards and landed on the ice. She did her best to make sure she wasn't staring at him while he was on the bench, since all he had to do was turn back, glance at her, and he'd realize what she was doing. Not that he would actually do that; the players typically forgot they were being watched in the first place because they were already so focused on the game. That didn't mean Alexa was willing to risk it to find out for herself.
Eric had a powerful presence on the ice. He was already tall without skates, but with them, he was three inches taller, pushing up to probably six foot seven. He wasn't the fastest skater, but he constantly pushed himself to get to the puck, to skate back, to do what needed to be done in order to prevent the other team from scoring, even if that meant taking a penalty
Somehow, the Hollywood Stars managed to get a breakaway. The puck hit the boards at an awkward angle, dropping behind the defenseman. One of the Star players—a small guy who didn't have the domineering presence but was fast on his feet—managed to skate between Eric and his defense partner and head straight for Dan.
Eric pushed himself hard. Alexa wouldn't be surprised if his thighs were screaming with pain at this point, simply because he was accelerating at such a fast pace becausee there was no other way to reach the opponent.
Except despite Eric's best efforts, he wouldn't get to him in time.
Dan came out to greet the Star, making the net look smaller. His glove hand was up, his other hand held onto the stick, and from where Alexa sat, she could see her brother's pale green eyes narrowed in concentration on the puck.
There was a very good chance the Star was going to score.
Until Eric hooked him with his stick.
The Star fell and crashed into the boards. The puck trickled safely away. The referee blew the play dead and called a penalty shot. Fans in the audience began to boo, but unfortunately, the referee made the right call. Eric had taken away a scoring opportunity by drawing a penalty; that resulted in an automatic penalty shot.
At least this time, Dan was ready for it.
The Star skated with the puck down the half-sheet of ice after the referee blew his whistle. Alexa steepled her fingers over her nose, hoping her brother would do what he normally did, and save the shot.
Which he did.
Alexa let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her heart pounded against her chest. She, along with everyone surrounding her, jumped up to their feet, threw their hands in the air, and started to scream with joy. Alexa had been to plenty of games before, and there were times that she found herself getting swept up in the excitement. But never before had she been this emotionally invested.
In her defense, Alexa had practically been raised in an ice rink. Because she refused to put on ice skates until she was seven, she got bored easily. Even now, she wasn't a huge hockey fan and tended to only watch the games in support of her brother. While Dan excelled as a goalie competitively, Alexa quietly played soccer and water polo and managed to acquire scholarships to different colleges for those sports.
Now, watching the game—watching Eric, more specifically—she could understand the fascination and obsession with it. These men were brute forces who didn't appear to be scared of anything. This, of course, made them reckless. She heard of players who had their teeth knocked out and returned their next shift, no problem. On the other hand, soccer players were falling to the ground because they were being breathed on and basketball players were carried out on stretchers when they pulled their muscle. Hockey was unlike any other sport she knew of.
The game progressed in the same way. It was an evenly matched game and both goalies were having great nights. Alexa's mother would call this game a "heart attack game" because there was no settling down. Besides the scheduled television timeouts and the seventeen-minute intermissions, there was no real chance at catching breath.
With three minutes and twenty-seven seconds left of the third period, Alexa was hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looking to the left, where the Rangers was shooting and trying to get a puck in the back of the net, but they couldn't buy a goal.
Eric was at point—at the blue line—and he ripped a slapshot to the net. He wasn't expected to score, but someone might tip it in—whether on purpose or inadvertently.
Alexa stood up, trying to see where the puck landed. Everyone else in her section did the same.
There was a loud clang and the audience made a collective ooh! Eric had hit the post.
There was a scramble in front of the net. The Stars were trying to clear. The Rangers were trying to score.
"Come on, come on, come." Alexa bit her knuckle, trying to ignore how hard her heart was pounding to the point where it actually hurt.
The goal buzzer sounded. Somehow, the puck wound up in the back of the net. Alexa whooped. She didn't see what had happened. She didn't see who scored. This was when watching at home came in handy.
But the Rangers scored.
The final score was one to zero.
They won, and Dan had a shutout.
Alexa was more exhilarated than she thought was possible.
4
Eric
Eric tried to take off as quickly as he could. After the game's hit, the media liked to make him recount what was going through his head and whether he thought the penalty he took was worth it. Since the Stars didn't score, he always said yes. Of course, the penalty was worth it. Preventing someone from scoring was necessary to ensure that his team had a better chance of winning. Just because it was the beginning of the season and there were lots of games to win and lots of points to accumulate, Eric always made sure he left it all out on the ice. He never knew when his last game would be, and he never knew who the general manager was looking at to potentially trade and make the team even better.
When he stepped into the nearly empty parking lot, he glanced up at the dark sky. There was a heavy charcoal color to the clouds—the sky wasn't clear—but there wasn't any rain just yet. He knew A
lexa was probably at his place, waiting in her car, no doubt reading on her Kindle app. He smiled at the thought and shook his head. He had no idea why this girl cared about being sexy or seducing men. He was sure it had to do with the fact that her boyfriend dumped her, but she didn't really explain and Eric wasn't going to ask.
He got home ten minutes later, and sure enough, she was sitting in the dark, her eyes intent on her phone. When she saw him pull into the driveway, she clicked off her phone. Eric parked the car in the garage and waited for Alexa to come inside before he closed it. She seemed nervous—she kept curling and uncurling her fingers into fists—but she was here and she had yet to run away.
Eric led her through the garage down a hallway and back into the living room.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked. "Coffee, maybe? Tea?" He thought he remembered Dan saying something about her liking tea, but he couldn't be sure.
"Um." Alexa bit her bottom lip and Eric narrowed her eyes at the simple gesture. He felt his body stiffen at the sight of it, which caused him to frown. Alexa wasn't trying to get a response out of him, and he most definitely had no intention of reacting to her. At least, not yet. And then she did something like that, something she wasn't aware of doing in the first place, and he couldn't help himself. "Sure. Tea would be great. Thanks."
Eric was glad for the chance to disappear into the kitchen and get his head on straight. He went to his cabinet and pulled out a box of green tea he kept around because it was his mother's tea of choice, and placed it in a glass before filling that glass up with water and sticking it in the microwave. If his mother was here to see him make tea like this, she would have lectured him profusely about the proper way to make tea—especially since he was making it for someone. However, considering he wasn't thinking straight at all and he wanted to get her the tea as quickly as possible, he didn't mind so much making it this way.
The Defenseman: Book 4 of The Bad Boys of the NHL Series Page 2
