Alex
Page 25

 Sawyer Bennett

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Yeah, right.
When I hit the lobby door, my heart feels like it’s about to explode out of my chest at the prospect of seeing Alex. I’m nervous as all get-out, because last night I clearly stepped over a line with him, and I do believe I may have hurt his feelings. But I’m also excited at the prospect of just being in his presence. I remember the feel of him pressed up against me in the booth at Hoolihan’s, and I’m ashamed at how much I liked that feeling.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to see him without feeling a small punch to my gut. As I step into the lobby, I realize Minnie was right—tall, dark, handsome. His hair looks stylishly windblown, his blue eyes so bright they hold me captivated from across the room. He’s dressed in a pair of faded jeans, running shoes and a long-sleeved Cold Fury black T-shirt that fits his chest and torso just a little too well.
Walking up to him, I say, “I understand we have a lunch appointment.”
He offers me a smile, the largest and warmest one I’ve seen on his face yet, and I feel my bones liquefy. “Yeah—hope you don’t mind. I enlisted Minnie this morning so I could have some time with you.”
How could I mind? The way he says he wants to spend some time with me causes my brain to go fuzzy, and for a split second I forget completely that we actually have some business to discuss.
Shaking my head to clear it, I look down at my watch. “Well, I have about an hour and a half until my next appointment. Where do you want to go?”
“I’m not a picky eater. You choose.”
“I have just the place,” I tell him with a smile and turn toward the door.
***
“It’s a damn good hot dog, right?” I ask Alex after I swallow my last bite.
Alex chews with a smile on his face and nods his head. When he swallows, he swipes his lips with a napkin and I can practically hear the paper scrape against the stubble. “I never thought you’d want to eat lunch from a hot dog street vendor.”
“Well, it’s too nice a day to pass up eating outside,” I remark, looking around the shaded park that sits in the middle of downtown Raleigh, just across the street from the capitol building.
“It’s one of the things I love about North Carolina,” Alex muses. “Warm weather in late October.”
“I know. It’s great, right?”
Alex nods and takes a bite of his third hot dog, so I use the opportunity while his mouth is full to alleviate my guilt. “I’m really sorry about last night,” I tell him quietly. “I had no business saying what I did. You’re absolutely right—there’s nothing wrong with having a hangover and I shouldn’t have judged you that way.”
His blue eyes widen slightly and he swallows his food, wiping at his mouth again. “Funny. I came to take you to lunch so I could apologize to you. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. You had a right to be concerned.”
“No, I didn’t,” I assure him. “I think I was more pissed that you were blowing me off.”
Alex’s eyes go dark, but not in an angry way. No, it’s like pure intensity instead. He leans forward, slinging his arm over the back of the park bench we’re sitting on. He’s so close to me now that I can smell his cologne, which is very light and subtle, but woodsy-smelling. It makes me want to lean my nose into his chest and sniff…hard.
“I wasn’t blowing you off, trust me.”
“Okay,” I murmur, while his eyes pin me in place. We stare at each other for what is, in my opinion, an inappropriate amount of time. We’re having a moment—a weird moment, but a moment nonetheless. I now have an insane urge to lean in toward him, to stick my face against his neck and rub up against him.
The thought is so shocking to me, I scoot a few inches away, right out of the zone of his magnetic pull. He blinks his eyes at me, as if clearing the haze away, and then he pushes back a few inches as well.
A tiny giggle escapes my lips and I put my fingertips to my mouth to quash it. My eyes rise to meet his, and they are sparkling at me in amusement. “Um…so, now that apologies are out of the way…” I say, trailing off because I have no clue why else Alex is here.
“I actually wanted to get that binder from you. The one with the California outreach program.”
“Really?” I ask, pleased and skeptical all at once.
“Really,” he says with a grin. “I’m leaving tonight, as our next three games are on the road. I figured I could read it on the plane.”
“Wow, Alex Crossman is actually going to do his homework,” I tease. “And without being a jackass about it?”
Alex takes his index finger and swipes an imaginary X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“Okay,” I tell him, flashing my best megawatt smile—and is that my imagination, or does his breath hitch just a little while he stares at my lips?
Not going to lie—if that’s the case, it makes me feel good as a woman and I’m starting to understand that I’m just not going to be able to banish these feelings that seem to surface around Alex. As a counselor, I know the best thing to do is explore them, and then address them…at some point.
“When do you want to get together again? I’ll have the binder read by the time I get back on Sunday.”
“I’m pretty good next week. A few appointments, but I’m flexible.”
“Want to come watch our Sunday afternoon practice? Then we can go grab something to eat and start plotting how we’re going to save at-risk kids around the world?”