6. Zeke

6

ZEKE

A s soon as I skated out onto the ice, I checked the stands, expecting to see my stalker there. He wasn’t watching today. Or maybe he was just running late. He’d probably show up soon.

Fuck. I was acting like I wanted him there. Hopefully, he’d never show up again.

I wasn’t going to look for him again. I was going to focus on my game. I needed to keep my world narrowed to my stick, the puck, and my teammates.

I managed to perform like I actually knew how to play hockey, mostly redeeming myself after our last practice. I kept expecting to feel my stalker’s eyes on me, to know he was there, staring at me intently with that fucking smirk on his face, but when practice wrapped up, he still hadn’t showed.

That funny feeling in my stomach was not disappointment. It absolutely couldn’t be. I’d told him I wanted him to leave me alone. Maybe he’d actually listened.

Johnson caught up to me as the team headed to the locker room. “What are you in such a fucking hurry for?”

I hadn’t even realized I was moving fast, but for once my mind didn’t fail me when I had to think on the fly. “I was hoping Coach wouldn’t catch me. I know he’s still pissed after yesterday.”

Johnson laughed. “Nah, he’s over it. You looked great out there today.”

“Seriously? I was passable. Great would be stretching it.”

He frowned. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”

Was I? “I like to be realistic.”

“Nothing about what we do is realistic. We’re superstars.”

“That’s debatable, and we sure as hell aren’t magic.”

“Are you sure about that? Cause there’s plenty of people up there”—he tilted his chin toward the stands—“who think we are.”

I didn’t think my stalker thought I was magic, but he sure as hell thought he was going to have his way with me. Not that fucking him would be so bad. It would probably be good as hell but dangerous, so fucking dangerous. I had to remember that. I had to keep my focus on the game. I was here to play hockey and save up to pay off my debt.

And then what? Lead a calm, boring life?

“You’re way too serious today,” Johnson said. “Let’s go out after we cool off and get cleaned up.”

“I need to go home and get some rest so I can be fresh for tomorrow’s game.”

“Once we start into the full season schedule, there won’t be many nights when we can afford to get wasted. We should enjoy this now.”

“We should enjoy that in the off-season.”

He snorted. “Mr. Rule Follower.”

“I need to keep my place here. After last year, everything’s on the line for me.”

He bumped shoulders with me. “I know you do but come out to dinner and have a drink or two. I won’t force you to stay up past your bedtime.”

I shoved him into the wall. “Fuck off.”

“Dinner?”

I scowled at him. “You’re not asking me on a date, are you?”

“Fuck no, you’re so not my type.”

“A rule follower?”

“Well, yeah, that’s definitely not my type. But don’t you meet guys and just know when they’re meant to be friends.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been friend zoned. The worst.”

“Shut up and get in there.” He pushed me into the locker room.

We changed into workout wear, did our cool down, then headed for the showers.

I wanted to tell him I was too tired to go out, but I didn’t need the whole team laughing about how pathetic I was any more than I needed them labeling me a gambling addict or a drunk.

“What do y’all want for dinner?” one of the other guys asked as we all got dressed.

“Pizza,” one guy yelled.

“Tony’s,” somebody else said.

“All right,” Vince declared. “Tony’s Pizza it is.”

I was good with that plan. I could have a few beers, eat some pizza, and hang out with the team, then go home early and get some rest. And I wouldn’t think about my stalker at all.

I could do that. At least I thought I could, but as our server was bringing the pizzas we’d ordered, I saw him walking in the door.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Running into him at the bar the other night might have been, but not him turning up where I was a second night in a row.

He raised a hand in greeting before turning the other way to follow the hostess to a table. There didn’t seem to be anybody with him, and he slid into the side of the booth that would allow him to watch me.

I looked away and focused on the food in front of me. Suddenly, I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. I filled my plate as the rest of the guys grabbed slices for themselves.

As I took my first bite, enjoying the long cheese pull, I could feel my stalker’s eyes on me.

Don’t look , I told myself. I tried to lose myself in the conversation at the table. I drained my beer and asked for another one as soon as the waitress returned.

After three beers and a hell of a lot of pizza, I leaned back in the booth and closed my eyes.

“Another round?” our waitress asked.

Most of the guys said yes, but I shook my head and excused myself to the restroom.

I’d been hoping some of the others would want to go home. I hadn’t wanted to be the first to leave again, but I didn’t need to drink any more, and I didn’t need to stay where my stalker could watch me. I glanced his way, and as I’d guessed, he was staring at me. I quickly turned away and hurried to the restroom.

I did my business and washed up, then stood there staring at myself in the mirror. I looked tired, and my eyes were bloodshot. I’d had too little sleep and too much stress.

You’re fucking up again.

I turned and reached for the door handle, determined to say goodbye when I reached my friends’ table.

My stalker was standing in the hall across from the door.

He smiled at me, and damn it, I couldn’t resist giving him a full once-over.

“You’re following me.”

He shrugged. “What if I am?”

“Stop.”

He shook his head.

I sighed. “Fine.”

Just because he was following me didn’t mean I had to pay attention to him. I turned to leave, and he grabbed my arm. Shockwaves raced through me, and my knees weakened for a moment. His grip was tight but not hard enough to actually hurt. Was his hand really that warm? Had he rested it against a heater or something?

I tugged, trying to free myself, but he held on. I could probably take him in a fight, but I didn’t want it to come to that. “Let go.”

“Do you promise to stay still if I do?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll have to hold on.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What if I told you I’m a fan, that I’ve been following your career since the beginning?”

“That’s called stalking.”

“Do you say that to all your fans?”

“Seriously, why are you following me?”

“Because I want you.” His smile was sexier than the devil’s. I bet he could seduce most guys with nothing more than a look. I had to get out of here.

“Tonight, I’ll settle for your signature.” He held out a jersey, one with my number and name on it. “Sign the back for me.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a command he clearly expected me to follow.

I hesitated. Would it be easier to just sign it for him or was it worth fighting him to tell him no? Would he cause a scene if I did? I glanced down, a gun was clearly visible where his suit jacket had slid to the side. How much trouble was I in? He wouldn’t shoot me right here in the bar, would he?

“If I sign it, will you leave me alone?”

“For now.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. He just held out the jersey and let go of me so he could pull a marker from his jacket pocket.

I took it and turned to put the jersey against the wall. I worked slowly, making sure my signature was legible, then realized there was no reason for me to care. I didn’t want to be doing this. The guy really was fucking stalking me.

I felt his eyes on me as I finished the signature, the marker scraping across the rough fabric.

I turned to look as if he could control my every movement, the careful signature, my need to look at him, all of it. Our eyes met, and my breath caught. He was way too fucking hot. His eyes were ridiculously dark and his lashes obscenely long.

My cock was responding to the heat of his stare and the way he assessed me. My tongue skated out and wet my lips as we held each other’s gaze.

He smiled. “We’ll be good together.”

“No.” The word was barely audible, my voice too scratchy and rough.

“Yes.” He didn’t look away. I told myself to, but I couldn’t. I held out the jersey and the marker. He took them and brought the jersey to his face, pressing his nose to where I’d held it and breathing deeply.

I swallowed hard, and my cock went from interested to fully ready.

“Delicious,” he said as he tucked the marker back into his pocket.

“I…You….”

“Yes. You want me too. I know you do.”

I shook my head and forced myself to take a step back, but he moved forward, coming closer and closer until we were only inches apart.

My gaze dropped to his lips. They were full and bitable, and a desperate need to taste him almost had me closing the last of the distance between us.

He smiled. Did he know he was right, that I did want him? Want didn’t matter, though. I was done following my wants. I needed to learn how to focus on needs only. I had to get myself together.

I didn’t move. I just stood there, frozen, watching him.

He lifted his hand and reached for me. I started to step back, but he clasped my upper arm with his other hand as he rubbed his thumb over my lips. I sucked in a breath. Fuck. He might as well have touched my dick. How could something so simple feel so good?

He brought his thumb to his own mouth and licked it, closing his eyes like he was savoring the echo of my taste.

“That’s enough for tonight.”

“I don’t even know your name.” The words were out before I remembered I shouldn’t care what his name was.

“My name is Vito.”

I nodded. When he let go of me, I ran a hand over my face and pushed back my hair. This was wrong. I needed to take a firm stand. I needed to let him know this wasn’t going to happen again.

“You’ve got my signature, and I can’t stop you from watching me play, but quit following me. And don’t text me again.”

You didn’t have to respond.

That was true. Why did I feel compelled to text him, look at him, touch him?

“I’m not going away, and you don’t really want me to.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He raised his brows. “I know more than you think.”

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Go back to your friends.”

Walk away . I really needed to ignore him from now on. Getting close to him was way too dangerous.

I gave him one more glance, which hopefully didn’t show the longing I felt, then walked back to my friends.