Page 20 of The Goalie in Room 1

Holy shit. This man elicited reactions from me I hadn’t experienced since I first met Chelly.

I continued watching him. He worked easily with the others at the bar, but his eyes always returned to mine. Every time they did, he blushed. His lower lip would roll into his mouth, and his teeth would flash bright white as they bit down on the tender flesh I wanted to chew on myself.

Chew on.

Suck on.

Jesus. My body was on fire. As if giving it permission had allowed it to come awake in a way it hadn’t been in far, far too long.

The girl next to him, behind the bar, caught him staring and followed his gaze to me. Her eyes on me received no acknowledgment. They barely pierced my consciousness, so peripheral to where my focus lay. She said something, and the beautiful man blushed even more, shaking his head. As I stared at him, the pink flesh on his face and neck turned on the movie reel of my imagination, making me wonder if he turned that pretty color when aroused. And if so, did it paint the rest of his body, or was it reserved for his face and neck?

Passing glances continued. Each one sent a shot of lust to my dick. I needed to be schmoozing new donors and glad-handing current ones to stroke their egos so they’d stroke their signatures on some checks, but I couldn’t bring myself to give a fuck. The pretty boy in front of me held me enthralled. I’d cut a check myself, as if I hadn’t already, if it meant I got to stand here watching the sexy bartender blush whenever our gazes met.

Minutes or hours, I didn’t know or care, passed before he walked out from behind the bar with a towel over his shoulder and a drink in his hand. A cursed gasp died on my lips. He wasn’t leaving. No, he walked from behind the bar and straight to me, a cocky smirk twitching his lips.

He favored his right leg as he moved, though he hid it well. To anyone else, it most likely wouldn’t have been noticeable. But I wasn’t anyone else. I was a fucking orthopedic surgeon.

Before I could greet him, he held out the glass to me. “You looked a little thirsty.”

I took the glass, lifting it to my mouth. He pulled the towel from his shoulder and held it out to me as he said, “You might want to wipe up the drool first though.”

Astonishment at being called out turned to hilarity and laughter burst from my chest. “Oh, so you’re a brat,” I said between eye-watering guffaws.

His magazine-cover face brightened with an enormous smile, splitting his mouth wide. “I can be,” he said, looking me up and down before continuing. “A very, very sexy, observant brat who knows when a silver fox Daddy likes what he sees.”

His left elbow found a place on the bar-top cocktail table, and he shifted his weight onto the table and off his right leg. A long, soft exhale left him, taking with it the subtle pinched look I hadn’t noticed from a distance. He masked pain suspiciously well. Like he lived with it constantly.

I smiled at him, my eyes locked with his, as I took the towel from him, using it like a napkin to wipe at the corners of my mouth. He slow-blinked, and the smile grew. Damn, I wanted to kiss him. I came here to be Thad, and maybe experiment with living again, not be Dr. Vale. Leave it to me to fixate on a guy who clearly had something medical happening.

“I’ve never seen you at a Halo Hou⁠—”

“There you are, big brother… Oh! Good! You two’ve met.”

5

CASH

Big brother?

Looking over my shoulder without turning, so I could keep my weight off my jacked-up leg, I spotted Aaron Vale on the other side of the table, a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. A smile that… Wait.

Brother.

Vale.

Officer. Vale.

Officer. Aaron. Vale.

I looked between the two of them, puzzle pieces slotting together as I closely scrutinized Aaron’s features, then the features of…

Silver fox Daddy.

Holy…mother…fucking shit balls!

Oh.

Oh fuck.