Blake walks beside me instead of ahead. Not leading and not hovering. Just there.
“Did I pass?” he asks.
“Pass what?”
“The gentleman test.”
I consider him.
“You opened doors.”
“Yes.”
“You let me choose the wine.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t flirt with anyone else.”
“I was busy.”
“You didn’t disappear halfway through the night.”
“I considered it.”
“You did not.”
“I did not.”
I smile.
“You passed.”
He exhales like that matters more than he expected it to.
“Good.”
We turn the corner toward the street where he parked the car. And that’s when I see him.
At first, I don’t recognize him. I only see a shape near the sidewalk. A familiar stance. Then he steps forward into the light. James. Everything inside me goes cold.
“Well,” he says slowly.“That was fast.”
Blake looks between us.
“You know him?” he asks, surprised.
I can’t answer immediately. James smiles like this is funny.
“Used to,” I sigh.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” James says to me. My hands curl instinctively at my sides. “How have you been, Blake?” he asks him, and though I know the ice hockey world is small, I didn’t think there was a chance they would know each other.
“What are you doing in Chicago?” I ask. His eyes flick to me.
“Business,” he says.“Apparently, I’m not the only one making new friends.”
Blake steps closer beside me. Not touching, closer.
