Page 5 of Hockey Halloween
Nolan smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, you know where to find me if your date doesn’t turn out to be what you expected. Enjoy your night, Willa.”
His intense gaze holds mine for a second longer than necessary. Then he lifts his glass in a casual salute and turns to walk away. Staring after him, my heart knocks against my ribs, wishing to stop him. To call out his name, to say, “Wait, I choose you.”
He disappears behind the corner before I can make a move, leaving me frozen in place. I often freeze during confrontations. Always have. Today happens to be the first time in months I hate myself for it.
Next to me, Greg is launching into a story about his office and how hard it is to find good interns these days. It feels more like we’re resuming an old conversation than starting a new one. His voice is smooth and polished. Just as meticulously composed as everything else about him.
Yet, all I can think about is Nolan and the way he looked at me, eyes full of curiosity, as if I were a mystery he wanted to unravel. As if he needed to learn every last detail there’s to know about me and my life.
Too bad I’m a bit late for realizing that.
Shit, I screwed up big time.
Willa
Greg goes on and on about budget proposals, all while sharing his thoughts on how Gen Z has no work ethic—which I strongly disagree with. I try to pay attention, I really do, but after another ten minute monologue, I excuse myself with a fake smile. I can’t take his boring ramble any longer. Our blind date is officially a bust.No surprise there.
“I’m going to use the ladies’,” I lie smoothly, setting my empty glass on a nearby table. “Be right back.”
He nods, barely glancing up from his phone he’s been checking regularly. I weave through partygoers dressed in everything from Playboy bunnies to inflatable T-rexes, the thumping bass of early 2000s pop vibrating through the floor under my heels.
Scanning the room, I search for a tall, broad-shouldered, maddeningly charming man with dimples and eyes that can make me forget how to breathe.
Nolan. My accidental right person.
This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. I was supposed to meet a safe, pre-approved stranger, act politely, maybe swap numbers if there was even a flicker of potential. That was the plan.
Something inside me screams to find Nolan instead. I felt morespark in twenty minutes of conversation with him than I had on years’ worth of dates combined. Too bad I was an idiot who panicked and made the wrong decision in a sudden lapse of judgment.
Pushing past a couple dressed up as a vampire and a werewolf making out near a cobwebbed pillar, I search around the dimly lit room. My heart is hammering, nerves and hope tangled in my throat. What if he left? What if I missed my shot?
I scan the crowd, holding my breath. Please still be here.Please still be here.
I make my way to the garden rooftop the club is known for. Cool air bites at my exposed skin, grounding me. Crossing to the edge, I grip the cold metal railing, letting my breath fog in the air.
“You found me,” a familiar voice brings me back to reality.
Turning around, I spot Nolan. A small, content smile curls his lips as I stare at him. The subtle lighting from the rooftop bar casts a soft glow on his features, making him appear somehow even more unreal.
“Told you I’m good at solving mysteries.”
He laughs under his breath. “You ditched the wannabe Indiana Jones?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s too busy complaining about his job to notice I’m gone,” I share, leaning against the railing next to him. “I needed air…and honestly? I neededyoumore.”
He moves closer, but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “I kept thinking about how you looked when you walked away. How I wanted to call you to come back, but couldn’t get the words out fast enough.”
“I kept hoping you would.” His smile softens into something deeper. “You had me worried for a second. I thought I imagined the whole thing when you didn’t stop me from leaving.”
“As cliché as it sounds, it was me, not you.”
We stand there, looking over the garden where the orange lights dance around, and a fog machine pumps out fake mist.
“I was also worriedI’druined the moment,” he admits quietly.
“You didn’t. You gave me an out, but I was a coward for staying.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should have said anything.”
