Page 14 of The Coach

I have a feeling it could be more. I didn’t know what that “more” meant, but I guess I would find out.

“Yeah, exactly.” He clears his throat and thanks Bradley, the bartender, for the drink he sets on the shiny bar top. “I’ve never led an entire team before.”

“That’s not true, you were the captain here at one point, and you were co-captain for the Bandits,” I reply, referencing the pro team he played for before he retired.

I blush when his gaze on me intensifies. “Well, Mick, were you stalking me?”

I take a long pull of my beer, finishing it off before grabbing the new one he ordered for me. “Maybe.”

He chuckles and grabs my thigh, turning me so my knees are tucked between his legs. “And what did you think?”

I sigh, willing my cheeks to cool, “I think you’ve led a very impressive life, Tanner. You won both the Stanley Cup and the Conn Smythe Trophy in the same year. Do you know how many players have done that?” The answer was not many. The Conn Smythe was an honor in and of itself, being that it is given to the most valuable player in the NHL, and of course, the Cup speaks for itself.

Tanner leans closer, and I find myself pulled toward him, “Do you know what a turn-on it is that you not only give a shit, but you know all of this?”

I shrug. “It was just a bit of googling.”

“No,” he disagrees. “You give a shit. Don’t lie.”

I blush again. Man, I don’t remember ever blushing around a man so much in my life. “So what if I do?”

He leans closer, and it’s like I’m drawn to him by force of gravity. I follow his movements until I’m almost touching his lips. I prepare myself to be kissed, but I’m surprised when he says, “Did you know that you have gold in your eyes?”

I let out a surprised chuckle. “What?”

“You do,” he replies, his eyes studying my own. It’s intimate. It’s intimidating. It’s… really nice.

“Is that a good thing?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t even know, do you? You’re absolutely stunning, Mick.” Finally, his lips connect with mine, and for the public setting, he keeps it fairly respectful, only swiping his tongue with mine a couple of times. When he pulls away, he stares into my eyes, his hand still resting on the back of my neck where he moved it while kissing me. “Will you go on another date with me?”

“I don’t know.” I pretend to think. “Will it be in this bar again?”

“I think I have a better idea.”

Not long after that, I declare I need to go home, and Tanner agrees since he has an early practice. I’m almost disappointed that he doesn’t invite me to his place, but with an invitation for another date, and that nagging feeling in my gut about him being special, I decide it’s for the best.

“I’m walking with you,” he announces. He doesn’t ask, he tells me, and it’s another stark contrast between him and anyone else I’ve ever dated. Sometimes men can be so timid and worried about stepping on my toes, that it’s a turn off.

So far, nothing about Tanner is a turn off.

We walk in silence for a moment, the fall breeze blows across my cheeks, and I burrow down further into my coat. I am not one of those people that can handle the cold all that well, which is funny for someone who lives in Colorado.

But I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve barely ever left except for when we took family vacations and leaving now felt silly.

“You cold?” Tanner asks, walking by me. In contrast to my coat, Tanner had thrown on a light knit sweater.

“Always.” I chuckle.

He steps closer and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his warmth. I take a breath and inhale his scent; he smells way too good for someone who worked all night, then sat in a bar with me for the last two hours.

“So.” He clears his throat. “How do we want to go about this?”

I snuggle closer, my head telling me I’m allowing this easiness to guide me a little too much, while my gut tells me to go with the flow. “Go about what?”

“Us,” he replies seriously, his eyes peeking over at me from where he walks. “I know you don’t want your brother to know.”

“You probably don’t want the school to know either,” I reply, thinking that him dating a student—even one who was well into adulthood—probably wasn’t a brilliant look for him.

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