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“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.”