Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and the sounds around me fade to white noise.
Fuck.
I’ve spent months shoving down thoughts like this, convincing myself they don’t mean anything. That the way I sometimes notice other guys is just curiosity. Normal shit.
But the way my body reacts to this stranger’s heated gaze,the flush crawling up my neck, the sudden tightness in my jeans, makes me a fucking liar.
“You okay, man?” Carter asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I tear my gaze away from the bar, my heart pounding behind my ribs. “Yeah, just tired. Long game.”
Jaren drains his beer and stands up. “All right, boys, I’m hitting the casino. Who’s coming?”
“Count me in,” Masterson says, pulling out his wallet. He tosses cash on the table and points at Bryce, one of the rookies. “You got next, kid.”
Bryce smirks and downs the rest of his beer. “You got it, boss.”
Chairs scrape against the floor as the guys all stand up, making plans for their next stop. This is my chance to escape, to go back to my room and pretend this feeling isn’t clawing at my chest.
“You coming, Tate?” Cam asks.
I glance back toward the bar. He’s still there. Still watching me with those intense eyes.
“Actually, I think I’m going to finish my beer first,” I say, holding up my half-full glass. “Rex called before I came down.Told me I need to think through some contract stuff so I’m gonna hang.”
It’s not a lie. The call from my agent weighs on me even if it’s not the real reason I want to stay.
“All right. Don’t overthink it,” Carter says, clapping me on the back. “You played great tonight.”
I nod and watch them go, the group of guys who’ve become like brothers to me. A thought gnaws at me.
Wonder what they’d think if they knew the truth about what’s going through my head right now.
When they finally disappear around the corner, I take a shaky breath and glance back toward the bar.
Shit. He’s gone.
Disappointment hits me like a junk punch, which is fucking crazy. I don’t know anything about the guy except that looking at him made me feel more alive than I have in months.
I raise the glass to my lips and finish my beer while the conversation with Rex loops through my head, interrupted only by my mom’s hopeful voice asking about grandchildren she’s afraid she’ll never get from me.
Jesus. Now I definitely need another drink.
I walk toward the bar and sink onto a stool. Seconds later, I catch a whiff of spicy cologne. I turn. My breath hitches.
Fuck me.
“What can I get for you?” the brunette bartender asks me.
I whip my head around. “Another Stella, please.”
Swallowing hard, I turn back to the gorgeous man sitting to my left. Electricity crackles in the air. His gaze is intense but curious, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking.
Shit, if he only knew…
“You’re with the hockey team,” he says. His voice is low, gravelly, and makes my entire body hum.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Up close, he’s even more devastating. Sharp jaw, eyes such a pale blue edging toward gray, and the kind of mouth that makes me think things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking.
