Page 6

Once I changed back into my street clothes, I went to find Austin. He sat at the corner of the bar, facing the door, making him easy to spot. He studied his phone and had earbuds in. He still waved me over but held up a finger, pointed to the phone, and then held up the finger again.

The focused look as he studied his phone and talked quietly kept my attention. I’d seen three sides of Austin so far, and each sparked my interest. David would kick my ass if I hooked up with a sponsor. Hookups weren’t even my thing, but I kind of wanted to be around this guy.

I ordered a ginger ale and waited. I had nothing else on deck for this evening, and tomorrow was an early brunch, a couple of fan zone activities, and then the skills competition followed by the auction.

Austin’s talk centered around designs of some kind, especially colors and touch areas. Despite talking softly, I picked up a few words depending on his inflection. His expression was super serious as he swiped left and right on his phone.

From the way he talked, it didn’t seem like he planned to get off the phone anytime soon. There were no telltale attempts at trying to wrap things up in terms of how he talked or with glances at me. Rather than pulling out my phone to pass the time, I watched SportsCenter on the TV behind the bar.

“I am so sorry,” Austin finally said twenty minutes later. He took the earbuds out, flipped the phone over, and laid the buds on top. “How did the fitting go?”

“I’m not used to being so fawned over. I’ve dressed myself just fine for some twenty years now, and to have three people circling me is bonkers.”

Austin held up his glass, and the bartender poured bourbon. “I hate suits, and I know you guys have to do that every game. It’d make me crazy.”

“You get used to it. Even my youth coach thought it was important—showing respect for the game and our opponents. So I make sure I’ve got enough dress clothes to get through any road trip.” I leaned closer, and Austin tilted an ear in my direction so I could share a secret. “It doesn’t mean I like it though. Give me comfortable jeans and a T-shirt any day.”

Austin looked intensely at me. His light brown eyes, that I now had a good look at, were gorgeous. He raised his glass. “To casual clothes.” I clinked mine against it, and we took a drink. “So what does All-Star week mean for you? I was thrilled you finally got picked.”

“Thanks, man. I don’t think the full impact of it has hit yet. Having my mom, brother, and his fiancé in the stands tomorrow as I skate in the skills competition is… I don’t know what. Not to mention…”

The phone vibrated against the bar top, and he acted like he’d ignore it, but he ultimately flipped it over. He sighed as he looked between the phone and me. “I should take this. Sorry.”

I nodded. “I should go. I’m meeting up with my fam early. Are you coming to the auction?”

Austin answered the call and said, “Hold on one second.” He tapped the screen, presumably to mute, and fixed me with a disappointed look that crinkled up his face. “For sure, and I’ll be around the events tomorrow too.”

“Cool. We’ll run into each other then.”

“Look forward to it.” A shy smile crossed his lips for a fleeting moment before he tapped the phone screen again. He popped in his ear buds and started talking.

I downed the rest of my ginger ale, left money on the bar, and waved to Austin. He didn’t acknowledge it because his screen had his full attention. Thank God my job didn’t have me tied to a phone. Dragging my work around everywhere would make me insane, especially if I had to pick hanging with friends and family over a phone call.

FOUR

AUSTIN

KYLE PRESSGROVE STUCK in my head—that quirky smile, the broad shoulders, and the fine hairs that dusted the back of his hand and trailed up to his wrist where they disappeared under the sleeve of the Henley he wore.

But we couldn’t even share a full drink without my damn phone interrupting. My reflexes kicked in, and I answered.

Our brief conversation went well, despite my heart thumping away double time because this sexy superstar—my crush for years—sat next to me.

I’d had the chance to make more of a connection before the auction—and I blew it.

Dammit.

The team had needed my attention, and I didn’t have the will power to delay them for even a half hour. They continued to work, and I had to be available. I wouldn’t allow anyone to be stuck waiting for something from me.

Hockey was one of the few things I gave myself—an almost sacred thing. Watching a game, everything else fell away. I didn’t answer the phone in those three hours. I should’ve extended that to being with Kyle—and yet I didn’t. Not even for five minutes.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Arriving at the arena for the skills competition, I flipped the phone to Do Not Disturb. The only people who could get through that barrier were my parents, and they wouldn’t call.

My parents.

Despite how much they worked—and I worked as a teenager—they made time for things they deemed important. There was always a meal a week we’d shared together—usually Sunday breakfast before church. At least one of them had always shown up for school things—conference, science fair, graduation.