Page 35 of Off the Post

God, I am horrible at reading men.

It’s almost like he’s shut down. I need to find a way back in to salvage this date.

As I watch the signs of his discomfort, I consider the things I now know about Soren.

He’s a starting goaltender for the Vikings, having been in the league for over four seasons. He must be close to his family from Austria since they were just here. And I’m no doctor, but Soren exhibits some signs of high anxiety or maybe even a touch of OCD.

I decide to tread carefully into his personal life and go with an innocuous question.

“How did the visit with your family go? Did they enjoy themselves while they were here?”

Soren glances up from the condiments he’s reorganized for the second time, and his gaze turns thoughtful. There’s softness around the edges of his eyes.

“Ja.” He returns his attention back to the bottles.

Okay, maybe I should go with an open-ended question instead. My bad. I might need to try a different approach to get this gorgeous man out of his shell.

I know he appears to be rather guarded in public and rarely does interviews. He keeps his private life off the table and shares very little with his fanbase. But this is a date that he asked me on. He must realize conversation is required to get to know each other. Is he having misgivings now that he’s out with me?

Damn it. I shouldn’t have kissed him.

My thoughts are interrupted by a light thump against my foot under the table, and Soren clears his throat. A small gasp of surprise breaks free from my mouth.

“Ali,” he begins, voice laced with hesitancy. He reaches across the table and offers his palm to me. Worry lines form between his brows.

“I’m not—” He looks from side to side and then motions between us with his free hand. “You know. Good with this.”

I respond with a squeeze of his hand and raise my eyebrows skyward. “You’re not good with lunch?”

His laughter fills me with a warm glow. Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Soren sighs, the movement causing his shoulders to rise and fall, the tension visibly releasing.

“Nein. This.” He gestures between us. “One-on-one talk, being open with another person. Dating.”

I nod in understanding and twist my lips into a smile. “Well, how about we try this? You can ask me the questions, if you’d like. Pop culture is my specialty. Ask me anything about Ryan Gosling and I can give you a full Wiki talk.” I add a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

A smile forms at the corners of his mouth, and it’s a thing of beauty. He has such an attractive face. A long, slightly bent nose and strong, chiseled cheekbones with a shadow of a beard give him a Viking warrior-like presence.

And his hands. My God, his long, tapered fingers are both strong and gentle as they firmly twine around mine with just the right amount of grip. He’s got ropey veins that curl over the thick ridges of his knuckles. Large wrists peek out from the arms of his hoodie, covered in light blond hair that is devastatingly virile.

This man is dangerously handsome, and he does crazy things to my body, but he’s locked down as tight as a bank vault.

Which leads me to wonder…

A man this intense, who clearly holds a lot of himself back, might be explosive in the bedroom.

A shiver overtakes me and I clench my thighs together, sliding my foot back and forth against his.

“I don’t want to know about Gosling. I want to know about you.” He spears me with a heated look.

I lift my shoulder. “Okay, you asked. Here goes, in no particular order. I love a good homemade biscuit. I am a water sign but I’m a horrible swimmer. And I have a guilty pleasure.” I bat my eyelashes.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” I look back and forth around the restaurant, then lean in and drop my voice to a whisper. “I enjoy anime.”

Sporting a surprised grin, he leans forward. “Really? Which ones?”