Page 9 of Scoring a Sweet Thing

See? He’s easily confused. It’s adorable.

“Do you play hockey?” I ask.

“No. Do you?”

“Yeah, I’m a goalie.”

He’s silent for a few moments, and then his eyes widen, pretty pink lips forming an O.

“You said your job is for a sports team. Are you telling me you’re a professional athlete?”

“Yeah, I am. Why? What did you think I did?”

The tops of his cheeks flush. He takes a quick gulp of his coffee before lowering his voice. “I thought you might be a full spicy worker.”

I stare at him for a beat, not really sure what he’s talking about. A full spicy worker? Like a chef? Or does he mean like a … oh, wait…

“What? Like sex work?”

“Not that that’s a bad thing!” he quickly adds. “Just the way you were saying about your work auctioning you off, and I hadn’t heard of it being a certain… age-related demographic being the main audience, I thought it might be a niche thing.”

I snort out a laugh. Okay, so maybe I should have provided some context, but I was cautious about giving away my identity in case there were some rabid hockey fans on there who would have leaked information. If I had mentioned the gala and my job, it could have been easy to figure out who I am and what team I play for.

But before I can respond and explain a bit more about the foundation and the bachelor auction, the waitress comes over with a pot of coffee. She refills Bailey’s mug, then turns to me. “What can I get you?”

“Do you have hot chocolate?”

“Sure do.”

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please,” I say, and then my stomach grumbles again. I forgot I was hungry. “Oh, and a veggie omelet, with a side salad. Oh! And some fries. Maybe a grilled cheese too?”

Her eyes twinkle. “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s all, thanks!” I grin, then turn to Bailey as she walks away. He’s watching me, amusement dancing in his pretty eyes.

“Hungry by any chance?”

“Starving. I didn’t eat before I left practice, and usually, I’m on my second lunch by now.”

“I’m lucky if I have one lunch some days.”

I lean across the table and grab his hand again, giving it a squeeze. “Bailey, you gotta have lunch! Lunch is one of the most important meals of the day, along with breakfast, brunch, twosies, and dinner.”

His smile lights up his entire face. “Twosies?”

“Yeah, you know that post-lunch hunger where you need a little snacky to keep you going until dinner.”

He laughs softly.

Damn, did I mention how pretty he was?

“You’re a lot of fun.”

I beam at the compliment. “Thanks! You’re fun too!”

The waitress returns with my hot chocolate, and I thank her before unzipping my fanny pack and retrieving the Ziploc bag of mini marshmallows. I pick out two, then hold the bag open to Bailey.

“Pick a marshmallow.”