Sasquatch to the Moon

32: The One Where Håkon Realizes Miloš is a Huge Flirt

Mature content - not really - kinda. Mom you know the drill, open up the chapter bar and click chapter 33. 

HÅKON

My eyes are on him as he walks me through downtown Washington DC, we're playing the Capitals tomorrow. We're going to get coffee before a team meeting tonight about the game. It's an important one and it's going to be a difficult one.

Now, I could get my game mindset on if it wasn't for this damn guy. He's talking to me about something but I'm not really paying attention. I mean, I am, but I'm paying more attention to him, practically taunting me right here.

Some days are definitely worse than others with him. Some days it's all cute and innocent and some days I'm stuck between real life and a daydream with him. I don't think my body has felt like this since I was probably 17. This feels like the brunt of puberty all over again.

"You're staring off into space again." Rocket nudges my side and then pulls me into a coffee shop.

"Yep." Is all I can manage in response. "You know my order, right?"

"Uh-huh," I hand him my card and he shrugs it off. "I'll get it."

"Fine, but I pay next time."

"Works for me." I find us a seat and try to refocus on my phone, but he's flirting with the barista, so I look up and pay attention.

"Where are you two going in suits at this time of day?" She asks, starting to put together the order.

He lets out a little laugh. "Oh, you know, team meeting the night before a big game against the Capitals."

She just laughs at that. "Oh, you business guys keep getting better at this, did you know, last week I had a guy come in here and joke that he was in the FBI? I know it's DC, but that just doesn't happen."

"And he told you?" Rocket shakes his head, leaning his elbows on the counter to get a little closer. "Gosh, what a bad spy, out there flaunting his titles like that."

"Right?" She sets one cup on the table, a blush toying at her cheeks. "I told him it wasn't a great idea to just tell people that."

"Ah, that's when you act like you're going to feel up his chest, if your hand his shirt and skin, he's a liar, if your hand hits his shirt and then kevlar instead..."

She giggles at this. "And what would I hit if I touched you? Hopefully not kevlar, right?"

Rocket grins. "Oh, no, baby, shirt and then pro hockey."

"You can't convince me you're a hockey player, keep trying though, it's cute."

"What part of it are you not believing?" He wiggles his eyebrows at her. "Am I not handsome enough to be?"

She laughs. "No, you're too cute."

That makes him pout. "Is there a cuteness benchmark for hockey? Am I not allowed to be cute and good at stick and puck?"

She sets the second coffee on the table, giving him a full smile, toying with her hat. "Aren't all hockey players missing teeth? You're giving me quite a big smile for hockey."

"Baby, I'm the goalie," he gives her a smirk. "I don't get into the dirty stuff. I get to lie back and watch."

She thinks about it for a second, then asks him a question. "Does getting hit with pucks hurt?"

"Depends on who's asking," he doesn't break eye contact with her, though he's clearly doing a good job of getting her flustered. "I mean, if I was going to try to impress you, I would say no, not at all, but if I'm being honest, yes, if they catch you in the wrong spot."