Page 73 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

I burst out laughing. “I mean, I’m kind of open.”

“Depending on what?”

“Depending on if he acts like a jackass tonight.”

“Oh, I have a feeling he’s going to be very much a gentleman.”

“You think so?”

“You never know,” she says. “Hearing him on the phone—that was a man who’s ecstatic that he got a second chance. And trust me, he’s not going to blow it.”

I sit at the bar, feeling slightly uncomfortable. I’m drinking a scotch on the rocks, and I’m not really sure why—because I hate scotch. But it makes me feel older and cooler.

I hear the door to the bar open, and I look toward the front again. This time, it’s him. He stands there, looks around, goes quiet for a second, then continues looking. I blink for a couple of seconds, feeling embarrassed.

Why didn’t he wave? Didn’t he know me? Why didn’t he come talk?

But I don’t have time to think because I see him approach the bar.

“May I have this seat?” he asks me.

“What?” I stare at him, confused.

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were waiting on anyone.”

“Kind of. You.”

“I… what?”

He stares at me in his white shirt, with his dark eyes, silky brown hair, his muscular arms, thick thighs, and I nod slowly—because right now I’m so turned on, I’ll do anything.

“Welcome to New York City. I hope you enjoy it here.”

I nod slightly. “I’m just visiting from a small town myself. Came for a Broadway show.”

“A Broadway show? You can meet some crazy people in those lines.”

“Yeah, you can say that.” I laugh. “Some real crazy people.”

“So… Broadway, huh? What’s your favorite play?”

“I would say…” I stare at him for a couple of seconds. “Wicked.”

“That’s a good one,” he says. “A real good one. What aboutPhantom of the Opera?”

I smile. I’m glad we’re doing this pretend motion—not knowing who each other is—because the last thing I want is forus to have a conversation about why I left that morning. Why I haven’t called. Why we haven’t…

I’m not ready. I just want to be around him, too. I just want to enjoy the night and my drink.

He looks down at my glass. “What are you drinking?”

“Scotch on the rocks.”

“Scotch on the rocks?” He sounds surprised, and I laugh.

“I thought I’d try something new.”

“And you like it?”