When Alec Met Evie (Appies, #6)

by Jenny Proctor

I nudge his knee with mine. “Hey. You know you’re more than a hockey player, right?” He looks up sharply, like my words have surprised him. “You’re a brother, a son, a friend, a human. You’ll still be all those things when you stop playing hockey.”

An odd sensation washes over me, something I’ve never really felt before. It isn’t just attraction, though I do feel attracted to Evie. It feels more protective. Like I have extra reason to check the door locks. Or go upstairs and make sure all the windows are securely fastened in her bedroom.

An ache forms deep in my chest that I can't identify at first, but then it shifts and sharpens, and I recognize it for what it is. I want this. I want lazy mornings in bed with my wife, a kid tucked between us. I want to make coffee for someone as easily as I make it for myself. I want to talk about a baby laughing or rolling over for the first time. I want to be a dad.