His jaw stiffens as he stares straight ahead. That’s when it occurs to me that I don’t even know his name. I could have just handed my keys and control of my truck to some out-of-towner with the intention of harvesting my body parts.
As he hesitates, like he’s trying to figure out how to answer my question, I worry that I could be locked in my vehicle with an axe murderer.
I really need to stop watching scary movies.
“Who are you?”
2
Alek
Now, isn’t that the question of the century? I don’t want to lie to this woman. I kind of really like her, but I also like her not knowing who I am. I’ve never had this kind of anonymity before. Normally when I go somewhere, people are clamoring for autographs and pictures. I love my fans, I really do, and I wouldn’t be where I am without them, but this, what’s going on right here, even though she seems to have zero patience for me, it’s kind of…nice.
I steal another glance at her, my gaze going from her dirty coveralls and mud-streaked face, to her mess of curly auburn hair all tied up into a loose ponytail. It’s a gorgeous color, and up until a few minutes ago, I never knew it was my favorite.
I study the dusting of freckles around her nose, a few scattered on her forehead. Could she be any more adorable? Honestly, she’s the antithesis to the women—or as we like to call them, puck bunnies—who travel in our circles. She’s actually a refreshing break and I don’t even know her name.
Nor does she know mine.
I suddenly realize she’s gripping the door handle like she’s ready to tug it and jump from the vehicle. Shit.
“Are you going to tell me?” she asks again.
I take in the worry in her eyes. My God, she’s all hunched up in the corner acting like I might have just escaped an asylum. “My name is Alek Matthews,” I say quickly, wanting to put her at ease, yet hoping that name doesn’t ring any sort of bells. “I’m actually staying at my buddy’s place. He’s out of town and asked me if I wanted to house sit. He has a dog.” I jerk my thumb in the opposite direction. “He lives in that big house, just on
the other side of town.”
Her eyes narrow in on me. “Are you talking about Tyler Phillips?”
I turn back to the road, and slow when the light turns red. “Yeah, you know him?”
“Everyone knows him.” Her freckles bunch when she crinkles her nose, like she’s deep in thought. She waves to the elderly woman crossing the street in front of us and says, “He’s kind of a recluse, though.’
I tap the steering wheel. “Millionaire at the age of twenty-eight, thanks to the app he created.”
“Yeah, but that was some popular app. He changed the dating game for women. Gave us all the control.”
The light turns green and I accelerate. “You use the app?”
She snorts, like that’s the most ridiculous idea in the world. “Nope. I just know about it.”
I consider that for a minute. A girl like her must be taken, which is why she clearly has no need to use the app. Yeah, that has to be it.
“He rarely comes to town. I never see him around much.” She eyes me. “Wait, how do I know you didn’t murder him in his sleep and this is a cover story?”
I grin at her overactive, yet cautious imagination. “Call him if you want.” I pull my phone from my pocket and hold it out to her.
“No, I’m good.” She waves my hand away. “You could have arranged a fake call, and I’m not making it my business. After today, I’ll probably never see you again anyway.”
Not if I have anything to do with it.
I set the phone down beside me. “Suit yourself.”
“Does he get lonely all up in that big house by himself?”
“I think he likes it that way. I guess all the media attention got to him and he just wants to fly under the radar. That’s understandable, don’t you think?” I ask, curious about her answer, because that’s why I’m here in small town Vermont. I need a break from the chaos and cameras, not to mention my parents. I love them, but after my brother got married and gave them a grandchild, they’ve been down my back to do the same. Apparently, they don’t like my lifestyle or my on ice/off ice handle. The Puck Charmer. Jesus, I could kill crazy Cason Callaghan with a mean right hook for starting that one. Although, I do love the guy like a brother. I love all the guys like family.
Her ponytail bounces around her shoulder as she nods. “I guess I never thought of that before.”