Touching my arm to get my attention, Aaron nods at the man beside Billy. “This is my best friend, Tacker.”
At first glance, the big man by Billy is a little intimidating, especially with the brooding look on his face. But then he smiles, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Clarke.”
“You as well,” I reply.
Aaron leans in, giving Tacker a classic bro hug—hands clasped, pulling into each other slightly with a hard clap on the back.
A look passes between the men and I can read it loud and clear. Tacker is stunned Aaron brought someone to the wedding and I wonder why.
There’s a large table in the foyer where guests deposit their presents and Aaron drops the wine opener from his hold. To my shock, he replaces it with my hand, easily lacing his fingers with mine to lead me through to what can only be labeled as a great room.
It’s massive, despite the dozens of talking people milling about. Aaron leads me through the crowd toward the back of the house where glassed French doors showcase even more people outside.
We stop periodically on the way, seemingly making it no more than a few steps at a time before he’s introducing me to someone new.
People I would ordinarily forget if the men weren’t all so ridiculously good looking with unique names.
Dax, Bishop, Legend.
All the men bro hug it out, clearly very good friends.
When we make it to the backyard, there’s a beautiful arbor set at one end with white roses and lush greenery draping every inch in a gorgeous cascade down the sides. Several rows of white chairs are split with a white carpeted aisle down the center.
As Aaron leads me over to choose where we’ll sit, I can’t help but come to a complete stop by the… well, not sure what the hell it is.
Aaron’s gaze turns to follow mine. “Want to see it up close?”
It’s set on a table covered in white linen. Silver rings stacked on top of each other, about three feet high, with a bowl on top.
“What exactly is it?” I ask hesitantly, but I think I know what it is. I may not be a sports aficionado, but I do watch the news, which unfortunately does come with a few minutes of sports recaps each night.
“Do you watch hockey at all?” Aaron asks. I twist my neck to look up at him. “It’s the Cup. The hockey championship trophy and each player on the winning team gets it for twenty-four hours. Erik chose to have it at his wedding.”
My eyes go round as I realize why his friends Erik and Blue are rich. He’s a professional athlete.
“Erik’s a member of the Vengeance?” I ask.
Like I said, I watch the news so I very well know we have our own hockey team that came to town last year. Not that I’ve ever watched a game, but I know they are an incredible source of pride to our city.
“He is,” Aaron replies, watching me carefully.
Then it starts to dawn on me. “And the other guys you introduced me to?”
“All players on the team,” he replies.
And then I have an aha moment. “And you?”
“First-line defenseman, at your service.”
I don’t know what that means, but my heart immediately sinks. In the few moments since we arrived, I had been moderately charmed by Aaron and had thought this wouldn’t be such a bad date.
But he’s a professional athlete, not a part-time jock as I’d thought.
Famous.
And with that comes a whole slew of complications I have absolutely no desire to be embroiled within.
Whatever expression has just come unbidden to my face, Aaron sees it and immediately frowns. “You have something against hockey players?”
“Not per se,” I reply truthfully. “I mean… I had a vibe you were a jock. I just didn’t realize you were a…”
I struggle to find the right words. Aaron waits patiently.
Shrugging, I say, “A jocky jock.”
“That’s not even a thing,” he scoffs, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“It’s a thing,” I say assuredly.
“But it’s a problem?” he presses, his hand reaching out to take mine again. “Because I can assure you that you’re safe with me.”
I shake my head, plastering on a confident smile to put him at ease because I most certainly don’t want to talk about my anxieties. Internally, I’m incredibly uncomfortable right now, but I’m not about to let him know it. All I have to do is suffer through this evening and one more wedding next weekend, then I can safely put Aaron Wylde and his fame behind me.
“No, it’s fine,” I assure him, but I’m not sure how truthful it sounds. “Just caught me by surprise.”
♦
It’s turned into quite the party—this wedding reception—and while I don’t know much about professional sports teams, I can tell it goes far beyond just being a job for these people.
They’re all legitimately close to each other, which is saying something given there’s twenty-three men on the active roster. Aaron shared that little tidbit with me when I kept meeting player after player and finally asked him how many there were.
He’d laughed—telling me it was adorable how little I knew about the sport. He wasn’t surprised, though, telling me that I was not alone. There were lots of people who didn’t know a damn thing about hockey, but he was more than happy to teach me whatever I wanted to know.
There was enough double-entendre in that statement I knew he was alluding to other things, and, admittedly, I had a brief moment of regret this was going nowhere because—outside of being famous, rich, and most likely egotistical to the core when drilled deep—he was singularly the most attractive man I’d ever been on a date with.
Not just in the looks department, although his are unparalleled, but he’s clearly well-read as we actually spent some of the evening talking books. He’s funny as well, which is something I appreciate—no, require—in the opposite sex. I’ve learned through all kinds of pain and heartbreak that laughter is the key to leading a happy life when all else fails.
So yeah, he’s hot, and interesting, and smart, but I just don’t think I’d ever be able to get past the fame issue. It’s definitely a deal-breaker for me, and I can’t believe my luck. I’m just a small-city girl, who spends her days with her nose stuffed in a book. When I had my one awful, horrendous, humiliating brush with fame—at one point believing it to have fully destroyed me—I never thought it would cross my doorstep again.
What are the chances?
Throughout the evening, I’m also introduced to Aaron’s teammates’ significant others. They’re all sweet and incredibly accepting of me. All are surprised to see Aaron with a date and seem incredibly pleased he brought one. Soon enough, I’d figured out Aaron must be the devoutly single dude everyone wants to find true love, but who is resistant to it. This became patently obvious when Tacker’s girlfriend, Nora, leaned into him as we were all standing around talking and whispered, “I really like her. Good for you.”
I don’t think she meant for me to hear it, or maybe she did, but it was definitely clear I’m an anomaly in Aaron’s life.
Which actually makes me feel a bit better over the fact I’m going to leave him in the dust after next weekend’s wedding.