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I swear, he talks to everyone. He smiles at everyone, and all of them smile and laugh back.

Everyone loves him. He might have only been here a few weeks, but he’s been welcomed into this family in a way I’m not sure I ever will.

Eventually, my stomach begins growling and I make my way over to the buffet.

I nod to myself as I survey the impressive spread of food the events’ team has put on and grab a plate, which is nowhere near large enough considering at least half of the people here today are hockey players with appetites the size of whales.

I load up with as much as I can, but before I get to the end of the savory options, I sense someone beside me.

I don’t need to glance over, my body is achingly aware of who it is, but I do anyway.

He looked hot out there in his light denim jeans with rips at the knees and his fitted burgundy hoodie. But it’s nothing compared to how he looks up close.

He’s sporting longer scruff on his jaw than he was that night, his hair is longer too, and I can’t help but think about how the soft strands would feel between my fingers while he was on his knees, sucking me off.

Fuck. This is one of the most inappropriate places to get a boner. There are kids everywhere.

“Hey,” I force out. I fail at every attempt to sound nonchalant; my voice is deeper than it should be and raspy as hell.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Uh…yeah. You know?”

“No, not really. That’s why I’m asking.”

He raises his brows, and I can’t help but smirk.

“I hate these kinds of things,” I confess.

“Mingling with people you don’t know? I’m shocked.”

My teeth grind, and I have to bite back my knee-jerk reaction of “you don’t know me” because out of everyone here right now, he knows me better than anyone.

“Oh, really? Do I give off friendly, I-love-talking-to-people vibes?”

“Oh yeah. It just oozes from you. Especially while you’re sitting alone on the bench looking like you want to murder everyone.”

“That’s not true. I’ve never hurt a kid. And I kinda need my teammates if we want a chance at the cup. I’m good, but I can’t hold down an entire team sport alone.”

He laughs as he starts loading his plate. From behind, this probably looks normal. Just two guys fueling up. But it feels way more loaded than that.

He came over here to talk to me. And I can only hope that means we’re on the same page. Or at least, in the same book.

“So, your murdering hobby aside, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out again?”

I freeze with a cocktail sausage halfway to my mouth.

Garrett’s eyes drop to it, and his smirk grows.

“I promise to offer more than what you’re about to put in your mouth.”

My breath catches, and I splutter with laughter, successfully turning a few heads our way.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” Garrett says.

When I glance at him through tear-filled eyes, I find that he’s desperately trying to hold in his laughter.

It takes me a few more seconds to compose myself. Thankfully, everyone else goes back to their own conversations, and as a few people move over to the buffet, Garrett and I shuffle into a quiet corner.