Page 4 of Tough Call

And now he was contacting me?

Well, hell. Now I was curious.

I sent my mom a quick reply, letting her know I was on my way to Prague and that I’d text the Games’ broadcast schedule as soon as I had it. Then I opened Connor’s message.

Hey, not sure you remember me. I’ll be in Prague this week. Would love to meet up and say hi if you have time. Good luck in the Games!

Why did the thought of meeting up with him make my heart flutter like that? I mean, it had been a long time, and I was always thrilled to see an old friend again. But something about seeing Connor had me wishing the pilot would fly a little faster.

Still, I kept my cool when I wrote back.

Of course I remember you! We should get a drink. Are you reffing the Games?

I felt weird asking. But I mean, why else would he be there? And if he was, then maybe we would wait until after the Games. Just to keep things from getting messy.

I bit back a laugh. Ugh. People could be so stupid. We chatted with refs on the ice all the time and fans acted like that led to favoritism. This sport was tiny—we all fucking knew each other. And just running into each other and saying hello didn’t mean I was sucking his dick in exchange for him ignoring penalties against my team or fabricating them against my opponent.

I got it. I really did. Refs had done some shady shit over the years, and especially after some of the recent scandals, people were twitchy about it. Hell, the whole reason Connor had decided to be a ref was the brazenly lopsided officiating that had cost his dad the Cup in his final season. Connor had been eleven, and he’d vowed that day to not only become a ref, but to be the best and most rule-abiding ref the League had ever seen.

I had a feeling he’d succeeded.

So, yeah, he probably wouldn’t want to meet up before the Games if he was officiating. Except… he’d reached out. So, maybe?

While I waited for a response, I went to his profile and thumbed through his photos. Some were on the ice, some were off. I had to smile at the sight of him in black and white stripes with the League logo emblazoned on his chest. He really had made it, hadn’t he?

But also…

He’d grown up.

Like… really grown up.

That charming smile hadn’t changed and neither had his blue-gray eyes or the freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. The rest of him, though? Whoa. Glow-up didn’t even begin to describe it. Back when we were kids, he’d kept his red hair long. Now it was short and neat—almost to the skin on the sides, a little longer on top. I’d always preferred short hair on men, and it looked so damn good on Connor.

When we were kids, he’d officiated youth games, and I’d always thought he was hilariously serious in that role. Of course he needed to take it seriously, but he just always seemed so earnest, it was kind of funny and really endearing.

Adult Connor playing Adult Referee in the top hockey league in the world—oh, fuck me. I wondered if he looked at his partner like that in bed. I wondered how long I’d last if he looked at me like that in bed. Probably not long. Holy shit.

Not that it mattered because we weren’t sleeping together. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Probably a combination of seeing my adolescent sort-of-boyfriend looking this smoking hot while I was in the middle of a dry spell.

Right then, a push notification came through, rescuing me from my own thoughts. It was from Connor, and I couldn’t switch to my DMs fast enough.

I’m officiating the women’s division.

Oh! Cool.

So we could get drinks or dinner or whatever and it won’t be an issue.

Not at all. When do you get in?

On the plane now. We land in like 45 min.

Great! Text me when you’re settled in at your hotel. We’ll figure something out.

Will do.

Looking forward to it.