by Jeff Adams
After the photos, Kyle signed Tom’s auction program before Tom disappeared back into the crowd with his friends. David took another couple of pictures of just me and Kyle to commemorate my winning bid, and then he left us alone.
“Congratulations, Austin. Wow. I had no idea when you said you’d be at the auction that you’d do that. Thank you for putting so much into the charity. That was incredible.”
“Um…. Well… It’s the least I can do for my favorite player.” Nervous laughter escaped before I could stop it. I tried to turn it into a groan. “I sound like such a fanboy now. I suppose I should pay so they don’t think I tried to run off with you.”
His sweet smile reappeared, even bigger. “I’ll come with you so I can get those matching funds in. I’m guessing you already have game tickets for tomorrow, perhaps better ones than the suite for the auction winners.”
“Yeah.” I could do better than one-word answers. Luckily, I found some quick. “I’m not a fan of the suites. I only use our sponsor access to one if I need to impress clients. I prefer to sit in the crowd, which is where I’ll be tomorrow.”
“I’m the same. The suites are too closed off from the energy.”
“Exactly.”
I didn’t encounter many people who felt the same way I did. Most thought the suite was swanky. Sure there was food and a bar and stuff, but I’d take a good seat in the crowd anytime.
We got in line at the cashier.
I couldn’t remember ever having this kind of feeling over a guy. Being near him got my heart racing, set off some butterflies, and made it more difficult for me to form words than I usually did in social settings. It wasn’t nerves, although I had that too—but the good feelings outweighed everything else.
Since college, Tamara periodically encouraged me to get out and try to find somebody even though it didn’t rank high on my to-do list. Getting all into a guy I’d only see this weekend wasn’t ideal for a number of reasons.
As Kyle handed over his credit card to make his donation, I took the moment to study him up close and once again admired how he looked in the suit. It fit just right everywhere—accentuating his broad shoulders, and the shirt fit close enough, I imagined strong pecs. The coat was at the right level where I could admire the lower half of his ass too. I admit I’d kept up with Kyle’s online pictures to see if he ever showed much skin.
He didn’t.
While some may go shirtless—or guys like Garrett end up the cover guy for ESPN’s body issue—Kyle kept it modest.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Kyle flashed that smile again and stepped aside so I could get to the counter.
I’d zoned out thinking about his body. Not good. Shouldn’t be going there. Especially around him.
I stepped up, handed over my card, and filled out the auction info.
“Hey bro, you had that walk down perfect, and damn what an amazing bid. Super cool of you to match too.”
“Thanks.”
Kyle mentioned his brother yesterday. I turned to say hello as I continued to fill out info on the tablet I’d been given.
“Bobby, this is Austin Murray, the guy who, for some reason, decided I was worth all that money.” Kyle’s bit of self-deprecation added still more to his charm. “He’s also one of the team sponsors and is in town for the game. Austin, this is Bobby.”
I held my hand out to Bobby, and we traded shakes.
“It’s cool you’re from Detroit. If the date goes well, maybe you guys can keep seeing each other.”
Bobby had the same thought I did, so maybe it wasn’t so weird after all. Kyle elbowed his sibling and shot him a death glare. Bobby laughed it off.
“Excuse him, he’s got no filter and no sense.” Kyle sounded mortified. “Dude, this guy’s a sponsor. Don’t piss him off.”
Bobby’s laugh continued, and I joined in, if only to let Kyle know I didn’t mind. “It’s all right. I’m already a fan so…”
Crap. I ran out of words.
“Austin, nice to meet you. Please go do something fun together.” His phone buzzed in his hand, and he stole a look at the screen. “I gotta go. Seb just pulled the car up. See you at the game tomorrow, bro.”
The brothers hugged, Bobby said goodbye to me, and then headed out.
“Family. Sometimes, I swear…” He didn’t finish the thought, but his tone proved that Bobby had amused him more than annoyed him. “So, do you want to get a drink and watch all this lunacy or…”
The crowd hadn’t gotten any quieter as the bachelors continued to take the stage. What did I want to do? I hadn’t expected to need a plan to hang out with Kyle until tomorrow or Sunday.
“I wouldn’t mind staying out of the ballroom for a little longer. All this loudness in a small space is more than I’m used to.”
“Works for me.” Kyle looked beyond me. “How about we go back over to the bar? Looks a lot less crowded there.”
“Great.” We crossed the lobby. “Did you have fun with the speed competition? It was super fun to watch, cheering you on.”
“I don’t really have words. Being here is major. I wanted this since I was a kid—to be an All-Star. Now I can check that off along with a Winter Classic. Hopefully, there’s a Stanley Cup in my future. Just being on the ice this afternoon with those guys was epic. I tried to explain to my mom why I wasn’t disappointed that I didn’t win this afternoon. To compete with those guys—the very fastest in the league—was a win.”
In the bar, Kyle guided us to a table that would be out of view of anyone coming or going from the auction.
“And tomorrow is just gonna be a big game of pickup,” he continued. “Sure, there’s competition, but the All-Star Game is unlike anything else. Winter Classics are cool, but those are serious games that affect stats. Tomorrow is a bunch of guys who don’t usually get to play together having a great time. God, I’m babbling.”
Excitement flowed off him—in his voice and the animated way he moved his hands around. It totally charmed me.
“I totally get it. I mean, I always want to win in business, but sometimes it’s just the people you’re around. I imagine it’s like being invited to speak on a panel and the other panelists are people I highly admire, and I’m honored to be in their company.”
“Exactly!”
We paused to give a drink order—same as last night, bourbon for me and ginger ale for him. Then I said, “So, tomorrow. What are you thinking? We could keep it as simple as dinner or something different. How tired will you be after the game?”
“Between the afternoon timing of the game and the postgame adrenaline, I’ll be good into the evening. Plus I’m here on Sunday, and other than brunch with my family mid-morning, I’m free, and I’ll probably spend any free time with Bobby.”
Interesting. I planned to head home Sunday night so I’d be in the office first thing Monday, so something during the day on Sunday. I hadn’t thought of anything particularly creative for our date though—I kept landing back on dinner. I’d had my assistant, Jack, find some good places, so I put forward one of those.
Just as we settled on the place for dinner after the game, Kyle and I both got texts at the same time. Someone decided they needed a picture of all the bachelors and their dates.
At least we had the date scheduled.
Now I could just be nervous about the actual date rather than it’s planning.
Seven
Kyle
What a day!
My first All-Star Game.
My first All-Star Game with a goal.
My first All-Star Game with my brother and mom in the audience.
I got the goal on a sweet two-on-one as me and Kingsbury took off on a breakaway. Despite the fact we’d only played together in this game, we read each other perfectly and we messed that defenseman in front of us relentlessly. Kingsbury pulled the D way out of position, and I slammed the puck home.
I don’t keep many of my highlights, but I’d talk to our press office to get video of this goal fo
r a souvenir. I had the clip of my first NHL goal too, and Mom had a ton of stuff she shot before I got to college.
Mom beamed so much when I saw her and Bobby after the game. She was always so proud of me, and this time out, I was proud I’d been able to do that with her right there in the arena.
Sadness washed over me once they’d left, and thankfully it had waited. I thought of Dad a lot, even though he’d been gone now nearly twenty years. He’d supported my early playing years as much as Mom had, and I had no doubt if he were alive, he’d have been here too. The major career milestones, like today, were always a bittersweet flavor without him here too.
I shook off those thoughts as I checked my watch. Austin was fifteen minutes late and not even a text message.
I’d arrived early at the restaurant he’d picked because things wrapped up at the arena sooner than expected. I’d given myself some buffer in our plans in case I got stuck there longer. I hated being late. Dad always said that one of the measures of a good person was punctuality. Being late equaled disrespect, especially if there was no advanced noticed.
Everything had seemed good earlier. I’d texted him before I’d headed here, and he’d sent a thumbs up back, so it’d seemed like all was good.
“Can I get food here? And take it to the table when my date shows up?” I looked to the bartender who was topping off a drink at one of the taps. I hadn’t grabbed any of the food before I left, and that’d been a mistake. My stomach rumbled, demanding refueling.
“Of course.” He turned to the counter behind him, grabbed a menu, and handed it to me. “Get you anything else to drink while you look that over?”
I’d been chugging water so far to rehydrate, but with no game or practice tomorrow, I could go for something more, especially with food on the way. “I’ll take whatever local beer you recommend.”
“Cool. Back with that in a minute.”
“Kyle, I’m so sorry.” I looked up from the menu and found Austin coming toward me. “I ended up taking a call in the arena parking lot and lost track of time. I should’ve at least been driving this direction while I talked.”
He looked so distraught that I couldn’t be mad. He certainly had a knack for being glued to his phone though. Plenty of people lived on their phones. I certainly got caught up in mine sometimes—especially traveling. But I tried to never let it interfere. I guessed he couldn’t get away from it being a CEO. Still, it kinda sucked.
“Here’s your beer.” The bartender set a tall glass down filled with a dark amber liquid. I had a good idea I’d like that. “I got you an Anti-Hero. It’s a favorite of mine. If you don’t like it, let me know and I can get you something else. Are you ready to order?”
I took a drink.
“This is damn good. Thank you.” I looked to Austin. “I think we’re ready to sit down. I can close this out with you.” I reached for my wallet.
“No worries.” The bartender waved me off. “I’ll find out your server, and it’ll all be on one bill.”
I pulled a ten from my wallet and put it on the bar. “That’s for you. Thanks for putting this great beer in my hand. Have a good night.”
“Thank you, sir.” The bartender smiled, and Austin and I headed back to the host stand.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Austin said. “I left you here so long you got hungry.”
“The hazard of post-game timing; sometimes the hungry comes roaring in faster than I expect.”
He sighed as we approached the host stand. “I lose myself in the work sometimes. It’s terrible. Tamara, my friend and business partner, calls me out on it sometimes.”
The host got us seated quickly. He’d taken my information when I came in, but I hadn’t wanted to sit at a table by myself.
“That sounds like something Bobby would do.” As we talked, we studied the menu. “He makes no bones, despite being younger, telling me exactly what I might be doing wrong in my life.”
“It’s good we’ve got people looking out for us.”
He wasn’t wrong about that.
“I guess everybody needs that sometimes.” I set the menu aside so I could focus on Austin. “Do you really have to be that close to the phone all the time? It seems… exhausting.”
“For better or worse, I try to be available anytime someone wants to talk to me. I used to expect the same out of everybody else, but Tamara got me to see that just because I wanted to work every hour did not mean that everybody else did or should be expected to. But I never want to be a bottleneck, you know? I don’t want someone stuck because I wasn’t available.”
He talked very softly, and a sadness filled his eyes. I hadn’t meant to take us there with the question—instead it was to find out more about him. We didn’t have to get into heavy topics. This was supposed to be fun.
The waiter came and we ordered. Despite the fact that my stomach wanted the entire menu, I kept things fairly reasonable with a pasta dish and salad. I had snacks in the room if I needed them later. Austin ordered salmon.
“For what it’s worth”—Austin picked up again— “my phone is off. It will not bother us the rest of the evening.”
“Cool.” Our eyes met, and it was like looking into a kaleidoscope. I hadn’t realized before how much energy and attentiveness there was there. He smiled as I looked at him, and his gaze made my heart speed up a notch. Yeah, I knew he was cute, but suddenly, directly across the table from him, I felt a spark I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
What did that even mean?
Eight
Austin
Kyle had slicked-back hair in almost any image I’d ever seen of him. He’d worn his hair that way last night too. Tonight, his bangs fell just the smallest bit over his forehead, and sometimes he’d push them back. No one had asked my opinion—and I didn’t verbalize it—but I wanted to see him like this more because it raised his sexy factor several notches more than usual.
His gaze pierced me, scrutinized me, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable. Instead, warm tingles spread from my chest, and it felt good.
If this wasn’t the first moments of our first date, I’d try to kiss that smile because it was just that perfect.
I should not be thinking that way!
I restrained from shaking it out of my head because it would look weird to randomly shake my head for no reason. But the desire to kiss him was strong.
My beer came, and I finally had something to do with my hands. I took a drink and a deep breath.
No more thoughts of kissing!
“What turned you into a hockey fan?”
I don’t think anyone had ever asked me that. Maybe it’s because hockey is such a passion in Michigan, everyone’s expected to be into it.
I remembered exactly what it was though.
“When I was six, I saw a bunch of older kids playing on a pond. I only caught a glimpse as we were in the car, but I remember it so well. I was in the backseat, and we drove by a park that had a frozen pond. Those kids zipping back and forth playing looked like they were having so much fun.” I smiled at the memory. “After that, I started watching on TV when I could. Neither of my parents liked sports, so I only got to watch when my uncle would take care of me on weekend afternoons while my parents worked. He was a big Arsenal fan.”
Kyle’s full attention was fixed on me. I needed this skill, even now I struggled to not look elsewhere. The intimacy of this quiet, personal dinner conversation thrilled and scared me in equal measures. I didn’t usually interact with people this way.
“Did you ever play?”
“No.” I sighed. “I stood on skates once at a birthday party. Some kid I sorta knew from my sixth-grade class invited everybody to a skate party. My coordination was not great, and I ended up traumatized by my klutziness. Even if I’d managed to skate, there’s no way my parents could’ve afforded the gear.”
Kyle nodded. “Yeah, I always got an earful when I grew so much that I had to get new gear more than once a season. It was good-natured, and
my parents totally supported me, but hockey is so expensive. I tried to soften the blow by reminding them that at least I wasn’t a goalie.”
More laughter. I enjoyed the warm, bass timbre from him. It reverberated through me.
The server placed the appetizer on the table, and Kyle immediately nabbed half of the chicken skewers. He bit off some chicken and then shot me a sheepish look as he realized that he looked like a crazed man who hadn’t seen food in weeks.
“No worries. I kept you waiting after all, so get that postgame hunger fed.” I grabbed one of the skewers and got my first bite in the time that he nearly devoured his first stick. “You know, we went to the same high school. I saw you play a lot. Even then, I thought it was obvious you’d make it to the pros. It’s been so cool following you all these years.”
Even in the subdued light of the restaurant, I could see his cheeks pink up.
“What?” I asked, wondering what could’ve embarrassed him about his high school career.
“Oh wow. We went to school together. Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday?”
I shrugged.
“This is gonna sound so, I don’t know, conceded or something.” Kyle pushed his bangs back again. Could I maneuver the date so we get to the point where I can run my hand through his hair? I doubt I have the skills for that. “My mom has a lot of footage of me from high school. I had to look at it a couple years ago to find some footage for the Arsenal’s social media team. I looked so gangly. I seemed on the verge of losing control and falling over. I’m so much more confident now. I don’t know. Kinda silly, right?”
Good humor danced around his face and shown in his eyes. He had to have been replaying the footage in his head.
“I never thought you looked anything but perfect.” Perfect? Really? I had to pick that word? “But of course you skate different and better now.” I pushed on, hoping to not sound too obsessed. “You’ve been coached for years, and you certainly have filled out and got stronger since your Fincher High days.”
