Page 16 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 2

Avery nodded. “Okay, then.”

I laughed out loud because I couldn’t contain it. “Excellent. When? Are you playing on Friday? I need time to figure out the details. And don’t think I’ll stop with those cards until you show up to our big date.”

The skepticism on his face was precious. “Ah, alright. Friday’s fine. After practice. I can meet you around eight.”

I didn’t want to show him that I was ecstatic. The whole dare thing paled in comparison with the excitement I felt about this. Just the two of us, romance in the air, and a bit of razzle-dazzle. “I have a better idea. I’ll pick you up after practice.” I shot him a grin and waited for him to chew on that. He sighed like an exhausted rabbit who accepted his fate.

“I guess that works, too,” he said. He tipped his head, held my gaze a moment longer, then pulled back from me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The smooth fade of the sides of his head and the clean, soft skin of his neck held my attention. I watched his broad shoulders swing, the earring in his left ear dangle subtly, and I noticed a slender line of ink extending from behind his ear down his neck. It was sexy as hell. It made me wonder where else he was tattooed.

He wouldn’t show me such things on Friday. I was sure Avery wasn’t a liar. He was probably incapable of a lie. And he wasn’t into a quickie. Not that it was part of that damned dare, but I was growing more and more interested in what Avery had to offer.

I knew there was something insatiable deep inside of me. I knew I had a perpetually simmering lust within me. And Avery was fanning those embers better than anyone I’d ever met before. Maybe it was the very fact that he wasn’t willing to give in so easily. Maybe it was just the calm and composed presence that he was.

I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but there had to be a reason why I couldn’t get Avery Collins out of my head.

Chapter Six

AVERY

I didn’t realize it until the last moment, but this crazy thing I had agreed to had been hanging over my head for the entire week. True to his word, Grayson continued sending the postcards. On Friday morning, the day of our dreaded date, the courier brought a card and a box of chocolate. “Increasing firepower,” he explained with a casual laugh. He couldn’t have been much older than me, if at all. He looked like a college student with a part-time gig.

“He’s driving your sales off the charts, huh?” I accepted the gifts for the day.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.

I eyed the courier and wondered if he was part of Grayson’s elaborate plan. Was he supposed to sweet-talk me into liking Grayson? I wouldn’t admit it to a stranger, but Grayson’s effort was wasted. I already liked him despite my best efforts not to. “Do you do this a lot?” I asked, chatting idly.

“It’s my mom’s shop,” the guy said. “I practically grew up there. I’m telling you, guys like him don’t come that often. We get two, maybe three, consecutive orders before they give up. Or win their sweetheart over.” He had a dreamy way of speaking, and his big, blue eyes shone like he was being swept off his feet by Grayson’s efforts.

I exhaled through my nose, holding the heart-shaped box of chocolate, and shook my head. “Thanks,” I said.

That day, I felt the anticipation stronger than ever. He was on my mind during the lectures, while I conditioned, and at the drills. I couldn’t put him out of my head without feeling the absence, which in turn led me back to thinking about him.

Why me? I didn’t get it. It was too quick, too abrupt, too out-of-nowhere.

Even as I managed to keep my focus on the puck and do the hard drills with my teammates, part of me had to wonder. What did he expect? Nobody put so much effort into a one-night-stand. And if that were what he was doing, he would be disappointed. I had decided, once and for all, I was done chasing the high of a hookup. It was unattainable. I didn’t like it. And I wouldn’t force myself to try it again.

I wasn’t sure about anything else. That was the only line I had drawn in the sand.

“You have to do what feels right for you,” Sawyer had said a couple of days ago. We had talked again and his position hadn’t changed. “But I’m glad you’re giving him a shot.”

I wasn’t sure if I was glad. The risks were high and there were too many unknowns. And the worst of all, I liked him. I liked him just enough for it to suck if it all fell through. But it wouldn’t kill me.

I told that to myself as I got ready after practice. Text messages kept my phone awake for the final hour before our agreed time.

Sixty minutes, Collins. Counting down…

The bow tie is locked and loaded.

I changed it to a regular slim tie. Can’t decide.

[View attachment.] Can you help me pick one out?

When I opened the last text to check out the photos he had attached, my heart hammered rapidly in my chest. Two bathroom selfies greeted me. Grayson wore a towel securely around his waist, but that was it. Around his neck, he had a striped white and blue bowtie in one photo and a cornflower blue tie reaching to his belly button in the other. He wore a fake frown of indecision and a ghost of a cheeky smirk on his lips.

Let me see what you are wearing so I can make sure we don’t look the same. I’m leaving that level of codependence for the second date.