Page 33 of One Good Puck
A low chuckle falls from his mouth as he grins down at the plate. His gaze lifts to me. “This looks amazing. Thank you.”
When he bites into a sandwich slice, he moans. “Damn, that’s good. I’ve never had grilled cheese with apple before.”
“It’s my favorite. And my go-to dinner when I’m feeling too lazy to cook.”
“This wasn’t lazy at all. This is honestly pretty fancy for a guy like me.”
He offers me a slice of the sandwich, but I shake my head. “That’s all for you. I’m going to steal some salami, though.”
“Please do. This is a lot of food, I don’t think I can eat it all myself.”
We stand at the kitchen island, leaning against the counter as we eat.
“So I watched the Bashers game tonight,” I say. “Congrats on the win.”
Gavin’s brow lifts. “You watched it?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I just remember you mentioning when we first met that you didn’t pay attention to hockey.”
“I don’t really. But Emma asked what you were doing tonight, and I mentioned that you had to coach the hockey game, and she asked if we could watch it.”
He grins wide. “She did?”
I nod, heartened at how happy he looks.
“She’s such a sweet kid,” he says.
“She really is. She fell asleep after the first period though. Sorry.”
He lets out that low, rough chuckle once more. I shiver.
“It’s preseason. She didn’t miss anything important,” he jokes.
“You did really well, though.”
“Thanks. I’m happy with how hard the guys played.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. But I meant that you did well too.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Really?”
I nod. “I don’t know anything about hockey or coaching, but I was impressed at how focused you are. You look confident and calm. You didn’t freak out or lose your cool. You didn’t seem nervous at all.”
A light pink flush colors his stubbled cheeks. A shy smile pulls at his lips. “You really think that?”
“Yeah.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a sexy half-smile. “I’m used to hearing that I look like an emotionless robot when I coach. It’s nice to hear you don’t feel the same way.”
I lean back, surprised. “That’s not at all what you look like. You look unflappable and cool as a cucumber.”
He smiles like he’s amused. “Can you say nice things to me after every game? It’s a real boost to my ego.”
I chuckle. “I guess I would have thought that winning was enough.”
“It is.” His expression sobers after a second. He glances down at the plate and eats some salami and tomatoes. “It’s just the stuff that happens after the game that can be a downer sometimes.”
