AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hockey guy is bartender guy?
With the broken nose, the ice blue eyes, the buzz cut… and dimples? Both sides.
They changed him from hot in a very menacing kind of way, to hot in a holyshitwhoisthisguy kind of way.
Dimples that filled up both sides of his whole face. They were more than dimples. They were Dimples Grande.
And his mouth… that mouth was completely unfair. A perfect cupid’s bow. Soft full lips.
He stood behind that bar, built like a brick wall, flirting like a rock star and flashing those dimples at me. It was amazing I wasn’t a puddle on that bar stool.
It was amazing I had the strength to leave.
It had been years since my body responded to a guy like this.
Did he really not know who I was?
My car – a beat up old Honda I called Tonya – was a champion. She’d gotten me from Seattle to Maine and, sure, her air conditioner didn’t work so well anymore. And the passenger side door didn’t open, and, it seemed she was getting a little tired of starting. Just a little.
She just needed some convincing.
I turned the key three times. I patted the dashboard. Turned the radio off so she wouldn’t be distracted. Said a quick prayer to her patron saint Kristi Yamaguchi, and finally, with a sputter and then a roar, she started.
Atta Girl, Tonya.
I ran back over the conversation I’d just had with the very handsome and charming bartender…what was his name? Dylan Hart? Something like that.
I guess it was pretty arrogant to think I was still a household name. It was just that for a time there, after the last Olympics, I was everywhere. Or at least that’s how it felt.
One thing for certain, he was totally flirting with me.
As I drove through town, to the little Airbnb I’d rented, I tried to unpack how I felt about that. Which was a testament to how long it had been since a guy had flirted with me. It was nice to be flirted with. Fun, even. It had been years since I’d thought about fun. Since I’d thought about anything more than putting one foot in front of the other.
Getting back on the ice.
Even with the dimples and those lips, he was not my type, that was for sure. I wasn’t into the big and brawny muscle guys. Too many years spent fighting with hockey players for ice time and respect.
He was also naturally competitive, which given my competitive nature, could be an explosive combination. But maybe also fun? I mean, who wanted a guy who didn’t want to compete? Fight? Try hard and win?
That was my whole life.
I should be thinking about my new job. Not distracting myself with men and flirtations. That job was going to be an uphill battle and I knew it. If I even made it past the first few weeks.
So yes, all of those things were true.
However, I was still going to the rink tomorrow morning.
3
The Next Morning
Dillon
I’d forced myself out of bed early just to make sure I was the first one at the rink. Last night while I set my alarm, I decided that if I’d been properly warmed up, I wouldn’t have lost.
Much to my dismay, when I stepped onto the ice Liv was already there. Not going particularly fast. Just gliding effortlessly. She was wearing a one-piece creamy beige leotard that for a second gave the impression she was entirely naked and my dick took notice.
She was fit and trim, but the leotard made the most of her round ass and perky apple shaped breasts.
