Page 20 of Yule Know It When You See It
“Do they have popcorn?” Both knees bounce now, and I look away, hating myself for letting him win this one.
“Yes, they do. Several flavors, in fact.” He stands and steps back. “You can come with me and carry your own food back to your seat. Deal?”
I give a curt nod and hop to my feet, following him up the stairs and to the food stands in the atrium. We order, he pays with his corporate card,ugh, and he goes to grab the popcorn to hand to me but pauses with his hand splayed. Smiling, I take the popcorn with both hands and continue to stuff my face with it as we return to the seats.
The game has already started when we return. I make it through the entirety of the first period without asking a single question. The stern concentration on Axel’s face, his eyes following the puck’s every move, has me grinning. It’s not until the middle of the second period that the home team is scrambling with the puck, struggling to keep it out of enemy hands, before one player lands their stick on it and, backward, launches the puck into the net.
It's the first goal of the game and I’m on my feet, spilling some popcorn and whooping with joy. But no one around me is joining in on the festivities. They are, however, peering at me like a partridge very far from the pear tree. Axel clears his throat and motions with his finger for me to sit.
With the slow descent of an escalator, I find my seat and lean toward him. “What happened? I thought we scored a goal.”
“Oh, we did. But we scored against ourselves. The defenseman accidentally shot it intoourgoal.” He points to the ice, the home team chastising the player who fudged up.
“But I don’t understand. That’s our goal, isn’t it?”
Axel’s shoulder presses to mine, his cologne—musky and vanilla-y—doing obscene things to my stomach. “They switch sides every period. Didn’t get to that part in your research?”
“I—” I let my face fall in my hands. “—how embarrassing.”
He pats my shoulder and sits back. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you do that for the Hawks game. Even though I quite enjoy seeing you make an ass of yourself.”
My head shoots up, annoyance striking,blazing,as I give him my best death-stare. He does that dopey grin before holding my popcorn, what’s left of it, out to me. I snatch it from his grasp, slunk in my chair, and don’t make a peep for the rest of the game. Unfortunately, the only score made by Chicago would be the one they made for the enemy team, and they finish at four to zip. We don’t talk much on the train ride back, but I fall asleep with my head against the window, blissfully helping me avoid making small talk.
The voice announcing our stop jolts me awake, and I wipe the back of my hand at the corner of my mouth.
“No drool,” Axel says. “But you snore like a damn freighter.”
I gasp. “I do not.” My hand is swatting his arm before I can stop myself, and even through the thickness of my leather glove and his jacket, I can feel the bulging hard muscle hidden beneath.
A lump of coal forms in my throat, and I snap my hand to my chest as if his jacket was booby-trapped and rigged with spikes that would strike any moment. Axel’s gaze falls to the spot my hand had been, a crinkle forming beneath his eye before he rises, and we exit the train to the empty platform.
“Listen. I know you don’t ‘need a man’s protection,’ but it’s late. It’s Chicago. And as one human to another, I can’t in good conscience part ways knowing you’re walking home by yourself.” Axel shoves his hands in his pockets after flipping the sherpa-lined lapels around his face and zipping the jacket up.
At least Mother Nature gives me a win by becoming cold enough to make Axel Nord chilly.
“I’m not walking.” I remove my phone and wiggle the screen at him. “Already called an Uber.”
He smirks. “I’ll wait with you until it gets here then.”
“You honestly don’t have to—”
He places a single finger on the tip of my nose. “I don’t have to do anything, Theodora.”
As innocent and miniscule as it is, the skin-to-skin contact has my chest, neck, and face on fire.
The Uber arrives several minutes later, and before I climb in the backseat, pausing with the door open, I glance at him over my shoulder. “What about you? Rules don’t apply toyouwaiting on the platform by yourself?”
Axel waves his phone at me. “My Lyft is a minute away. But I’m flattered by your worries.”
His words have my hand wringing the car door frame—worrying over someone leads to other emotions and feelings I’m not ready to have. My writing career is at full tilt, and the last thing I need is a distraction that’d inevitably lead to heartbreak. And a co-worker? Even worse news.
“Worry?” I let out a single “ha” to the sky. “More like looking out for my interests. Given this was for work, you’re a liability.”
He frowns for a split second as if disappointed by my response before displaying a smile. “You’re letting all the cold air into that poor driver’s car, Theo.”
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” is the last thing I say before flopping into the seat and shutting the door.
As the driver pulls away, I spy in the mirror a giant Norwegian man standing alone with his hands in his pockets, head tilted downward, watching the car until we disappear from view.
