Alex flinched slightly, then his face broke out with understanding. Treading a very fine line between encouragement to accept and understanding over Glenn’s sensitivity to money, Alex played it off beautifully. He said, “No way, dude. I’ve had this stuff just sitting around my apartment.”

Which was a lie. The freakin’ stick was signed by Max Fournier, so Alex had taken the time to get this stuff for Glenn. I wanted to launch myself at him with a hug of epic proportions, but to everyone’s surprise, Glenn beat me to it. He stood up from his chair and flung his arms around Alex as he sat on the couch next to me. I couldn’t help but grin when Alex caught him in a bear hug and awkwardly patted Glenn on the back, looking over his shoulder at me with a soft smile.

Dinner was amazing, thanks to the fact my mom is like the best cook in the world. Despite the crusty and surly side of Alex that I had seen on occasion, he was nothing but open and candid with my family. Glenn chattered away at him incessantly with my mom and Jim-Dad popping in questions every now and then. I did notice, however, that he gently steered away from any questions about his childhood or his own parents, instead focusing on the fact that he had left home permanently to live with a foster family while playing in the Quebec Juniors. This was interesting to me because he focused on his early hockey career, when I know for a fact that he doesn’t care too much for said career at all. The counselor side of me knows he’s avoiding something that is more painful than his distaste for the sport.

Regardless, my mom hugged him warmly when we were leaving, and Jim-Dad invited him back over anytime he wanted. Glenn was a bit shy, his prior spontaneous hug clearly related to the excitement of Alex’s gifts, so Alex bent down and held out his fist for Glenn to bump, saying, “See you next week after the game?”

Glenn nodded shyly, but I could see he was about ready to burst from the prospect.

“You’re awful quiet over there,” Alex says as we drive toward my house.

“Just thinking about Glenn. You really spoiled him tonight.”

“No way. You can tell that’s a kid who deserves to be spoiled.”

I smile because that’s so true. “He hasn’t had a lot of nice things in life. Money has always been so tight, but he’s the most appreciative kid you’ll ever meet. So yeah…I guess he deserves it.”

Alex reaches across the seat and takes my hand in his. It’s an intimate move, and I can’t stop the tiny shiver that runs through me from the contact. He squeezes my hand and says, “I think you might deserve to be spoiled too.”

I turn to look at him, the ambient lighting of the car’s stereo system emphasizing the sharp angles of his face. He turns to give me a brief glance and his eyes are serious, intent as they watch for my reaction.

“Alex—” I start to say, then I realize I have no clue what to say. His words are so heartfelt, yet tentative, because I can tell he has never spoken those words before.

Turning his attention back to the road, Alex pulls my hand across the expanse of the vehicle and brings it to his mouth. He grazes his lips across the inside of my wrist then releases his hold on me. That touch…oh, that touch of his lips. So seductive yet full of caring at the same time, I feel practically dizzy from the overwhelming emotions coursing through me.

“Sutton…I don’t know what this is…between us. But I know it’s something. I know it’s pulling me, and trust me when I tell you…nothing has pulled at me in a long time.”

“I feel it too,” I admit in a whisper.

“Then let’s see where this goes,” he says confidently, and I’m nodding my head in agreement even as I say, “Okay.”

But I do wonder…where exactly am I pulling Alex? I’d know if I only knew what direction I’m headed in myself. Does this have the potential to be something serious? Or does someone like Alex even do serious?

For all I know, his words tonight mean nothing more than he wants me to pull him straight into my bed. Maybe this is just sex. After all, that other girl—Cassie—she was just a hookup.

Maybe I’m just a hookup.

I search my feelings to see how I truly feel about that, and of course, I don’t like it. While I thought the other night that maybe my lack of feelings toward Brandon had something to do with the fact that I wanted to sow my wild oats like he had done, the simple truth of the matter is that I just can’t have casual sex.

Looking out the windshield, I see that Alex is pulling into my driveway, and I start to freak out—what if he’s expecting to get laid right now?

“I can’t have sex with you tonight,” I blurt out, because I need to be up-front with him.

His head jerks my way and even in the gloom of the dark car, I can see his lips curve upward. He ignores my statement for a moment. When he cuts the engine off, he turns to me and says, “Who said I want to have sex with you?”

“But…you said…there’s something…and that other woman…I thought that’s what you might want….” I drift off lamely, because now I’m suddenly confused and feeling like I misread the signals.

Alex gives a husky laugh. “I’m teasing you. And I didn’t intend to have sex with you tonight. Now, are you going to invite me in to show me your place, and then maybe we can hang for a little bit? I have to get home before too long to get packed for my trip.”

Thank God it’s dark in the car because my face is flaming over my misconception of the matter. “Okay,” I mumble in response, and jump out of his SUV before he can make it over to my door to open it.