“I thought it was north of Bad,” Matthew Winters says.
“It was north of Autre,” Lisa Higgins says.
I shake my head. The location of thefirethat my sheltered, grumpy hockey player went to with Josh last night doesn’t really matter. “That means he hardly got any sleep!” I exclaim.
Bruce shrugs. “You know Quinn likes to go out early.”
She does, and getting the manual outdoor work done before it gets oppressively hot makes sense most of the year, and I know Quinn likes to keep her schedule the same, even though this time of year the temps are much more bearable during the day.
“Why is he going to work with all of these people anyway?” I ask, bewildered.
“I’m not sure, but people love it.” Ruth holds out her phone.
I focus on the screen. It’s Alex’s social media account on one of the major platforms. The photo makes my stomach flip. He’s so damned good-looking. And that grin… I actually feel my body tingle a little just looking at how happy he looks.
He’s also holding a kitten.
Oh. My. God.
The smile. The big hands cupped around that sweet, tiny fluffy baby. Just seeing him in a different, “regular” setting, not a hockey stick in sight. It all combines to make me feel a little hot in the clothes I’m wearing. Like I need to take a few of them off.
Yeah, I think this feeling is definitely swooning.
Ruth swipes to another photo. In this one, he’s sitting in a fire truck with a fire hat on, looking like a little boy who got to see a real fire truck for the first time. In the next photo, he’s standing next to Josh, who is in his firefighter’s uniform and has soot on his face. Alex has his arm around Josh’s shoulders, and they’re both grinning.
I take the phone so I can read the caption.
This guy goes to work every day ready to run into burning buildings. I go to work every day ready to slap a puck around on the ice. We are not the same.
I smile at the use of words I said to him that first day.
But I also feel my throat tighten. He’s clearly impressed by and appreciative of Josh off the ice.
I know he went to work with Beckett, helping with deliveries yesterday. Last night I heard a few people in the Rec talking about having him show up with Beckett, and Sutton told me that he’d told Beckett he wanted to do it again.
And now he’s hanging out with Quinn.
He’s getting to know his teammates. Even the players on the Rascals.
The latest photo is of him and Quinn both pushing wheelbarrows of bricks.
This woman doesn’t need a weight room. I have a feeling I’m going to be sore tomorrow!
Ruth takes the phone back and swipes again. “Here’s what he’s doing.” She shows me the screen.
Take Alex To Work.
I laugh. “What?”
“He’s going to work with everyone who’s on the hockey teams,” Ruth says with a grin. She swipes to a new screen and hands the phone over.
This is just a photo of Alex in jeans, a Rebel Revelers T-shirt, and a grin.
My heart flips over in my chest.
I’m a hockey player. That’s all I’ve ever been. And I’ve always been surrounded by hockey players. Guys who were lucky enough to play professional hockey. And trust me, luck plays a huge part in making the pros. But I got lucky again. I now get to play hockey in Rebel, Louisiana, for a whole new league. And I’m playing with a bunch of people who do a hell of a lot more than just hockey. These peoplereallylove this game. How do I know? They have to make time for it. They have to squeeze it in between work, kids, taking care of their houses, cars, families, and communities. They all have a lot more going on than just slapping a puck around the ice. But they still make it happen because they love it that much.
They know what I do for a living. Now I want to know what they do. It’s Take Alex To Work! I’m going to hang out with these awesome people and really see what their lives are like off the ice. I have a feeling I have a lot to learn.
