CHAPTER SEVEN
“Huh?” Jesse slurred when he was hit with a sudden wave of cold air. “The fuck?”
He curled in on himself, groping for the blankets, but couldn’t reach them. He cracked his eyes open, blinking when he saw a glowering Connor O’Shea staring down at him.
“It’s eight-fifteen. Get your ass up.”
“Noooo. Too early,” Jesse protested, grabbing weakly for the blankets that were out of reach. “I got no sleeeep.”
“Too damn bad. This is called the consequences of your actions.”
“Fuck the consequences of my actions.” He mashed his face into the pillow.
“Do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and dump you in the shower?”
Jesse cracked one eye open again. “I mean, that does sound kinda hot.”
Connor pursed his lips. “It’ll be ice-cold water and you’ll be soaping off alone .”
“That’s no fun then.” Jesse shifted fully onto his stomach, presenting his bare ass to Connor. “No thanks.”
Connor let out a strangled noise. “Webber, so help me God …”
“Night-night.” Jesse made an exaggerated snoring noise.
He shrieked, flailing when he was rolled onto his back then went flying through the air, the breath leaving his body in a noisy rush when he was flung over Connor’s shoulder in a fireman carry.
Fully awake now, he pounded on Connor’s back. “Fuck! Put me down! Not the cold water. Pleaaase!”
Connor’s shoulder dug into Jesse’s stomach as he marched them across the bedroom. He stopped abruptly, then let go of Jesse, who slid down Connor’s body, nearly sprawling on the floor from the unexpected change in position.
He clutched at Connor’s shoulders to steady himself and looked Connor in the eye.
God, he was hot. In this light, Jesse could see the dark blue shade of Connor’s eyes with a little ring of brownish gold around the pupil. Pretty . And damn, the dude could toss him around.
“Mmm. Now this is more like what I’m talking about …” Despite the earlier scare, Jesse still had a nice case of morning wood going, so he pressed against Connor’s hip. “C’mon, let me blow you,” he wheedled. “You’ll be sooo much less tense after.”
“No.” Connor’s face was beet colored and he pushed Jesse away. “Not a fucking chance. Shower. And hurry . We leave in forty.”
Jesse scowled, quite certain that Connor would make good on his threat to throw him in a cold shower, so he sighed and walked over to his suitcase. “Fine. I’m going, I’m going.”
Connor didn’t move, just crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m staying here to make sure you don’t go back to bed.”
“God, I feel sorry for your children having to deal with you,” he muttered, pawing through his clothes for something appropriate to wear for the PR shit. They might give him some team gear to put on but he wanted a pair of jeans that would make his ass look good.
Who was he kidding? His ass always looked good.
He expected a snarky retort from Connor so when none came, he glanced over his shoulder. Connor was staring out the window, jaw clenched.
Ahh shit. Talk about a joke not landing right.
“Dude, I was kidding,” Jesse said, because he could tell he’d touched a raw nerve he hadn’t meant to poke at. “I bet you’re a great dad.”
Connor didn’t glance in Jesse’s direction. “Shower. Now.”
“Fine …”
Leaving the clothes behind, Jesse disappeared into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door. Hopefully Connor would be curious enough to take a peek.
Jesse flipped on the water, then looked around. It was a nice bathroom. He’d been too tired to care what it looked like last night, just stumbled into a hot shower, then stood under the running water with his eyes closed. But in the light of day, the space was long and narrow, with a marble vanity and marble-walled shower. Clean and bright and stylish.
Gorgeous, but something about it didn’t quite feel like Connor.
Jesse felt slightly more alive by the time he got out of the hot shower. After a quick brush of his teeth, some skincare, then putting a little product in his hair and blow-drying, he was done.
He was surprised to come out into the bedroom to see Connor gone.
With a shrug, Jesse looked around the room. He hadn’t had time to inspect it last night either, too tired to give a shit about anything but sleep. But it was also beautiful, bright and open with white walls and tons of natural light. A bay window overlooked Monument Street and two chairs and a little table were tucked underneath.
The bed was massive and even if Jesse hadn’t been so tired last night, he was pretty sure he’d have found it incredibly comfortable.
Honestly, it wouldn’t be a bad place to live for the season. As soon as he convinced Connor to chill the fuck out and agree to hook up occasionally, this would be perfect .
Jesse dressed in jeans, a tee, and a hoodie, then jogged down the stairs, assuming he’d probably find Connor there. He glanced around the open-plan living/dining/kitchen area, which was as clean, bright, and stylish as his bedroom suite had been—and equally not quite Connor.
Jesse found Connor standing by the island, eating. Mouth full, he pointed to a plate and mug of coffee.
Jesse took them, then settled on a leather swivel stool at the counter. “Thanks. This looks good,” he said, staring at the plate of food. There was a breakfast burrito—homemade from the look of the pan and cutting board sitting beside the sink—fresh fruit, and, best of all, coffee .
Jesse pulled the mug toward him. Oh yeah, come to momma.
Jesse glanced around and, still chewing, Connor pointed to sugar and cream. Smiling, Jesse stirred in some cream, forgoing the sugar.
The coffee was great and so was the breakfast. By the time it was all in his stomach, Jesse was still exhausted but at least he didn’t feel like death anymore.
“Thanks,” he said quietly. “That was nice of you to make me breakfast.”
“Well, I didn’t want any more cracks about my shitty hospitality,” Connor said gruffly, reaching for Jesse’s plate.
“Honestly, I am sorry I got in so late and had to wake you up,” Jesse said. “I didn’t … I didn’t mean to.”
Connor softened, just a fraction, but it was enough for Jesse to see a hint of a smile behind his beard. “I know. And I should have told you about the weird street names. I know it’s confusing and it isn’t the first time this has happened.”
“But I made it in one piece!” Jesse said.
“That’s good. We do need a goaltender.” Connor sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. “But we need to get going now. Do you wanna carpool?”
“I can drive!” Jesse protested. “I want to get a feel for the city, you know? It was pretty in the dark but I want to see it in the daytime.”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time for that,” Connor said with another faint smile. “But if I can trust you to actually get there on time … sure, you can drive.”
“Hey!” Jesse protested. “Unless I cross a border or get behind another lube spill, I should be fine.”
“And I’ll make sure you have the right address this time,” Connor said drily. “Give me your phone so I can pull up the Harrier Community Ice Arena on your navigation app. Otherwise you’ll probably end up at the arena instead of HCI or something.”
Jesse couldn’t even argue with that, so he pulled the device out, unlocked it, then passed it over. “Go for it.”
When Connor was done, he handed it back and they walked toward the front door. “Do you still have the key from yesterday?” Connor asked.
“Yeah. Is it a temporary spare, or …”
“No. You can keep it,” Connor said.
“Okay, I’ll put it on my keychain.”
“Shit, you need the security system code too,” Connor said.
They went through all that and then Connor shrugged on a light jacket. “You want me to walk you to your car?”
“I know you think I’m totally inept but I can find my car,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Walk straight toward the monument, turn left at Tremont, then right, and keep the monument on my right.”
“You got it,” Connor said, looking relieved. “See you at the practice facility?”
He still seemed hesitant, but Jesse shooed him. “Yes. Go! I’m going to run upstairs, brush my teeth, and get my wallet and key. I’ll be out the door in like five minutes.”
Connor’s look was skeptical but he nodded, pulling the front door open. “I’m trusting you to get there on time, Webber.”
“I’ve got this, O’Shea,” Jesse said, practically pushing him out the door. “You can trust me.”
“I shouldn’t have fucking trusted him!” Connor bellowed as he paced in Gavin Racine’s office. It overlooked one of the rinks at HCI and he wondered if the people skating down there could hear him.
Probably.
Gavin winced. “Well, no, it appears not.”
“I swear to God I am gonna kill him,” Connor muttered. “Really and truly.”
“We need goaltending,” Gavin reminded him, sitting back in his chair with a sigh.
“Do we? C’mon, are you sure none of the tendies in our development program are ready?” Connor asked.
“Not a fucking chance. They’d be lucky to hold it together for a couple of wins at this level. They need a lot more time to develop. Arkady Romaschenko is, at best, backup caliber.”
“Fuck!” Connor dialed Jesse’s number again. “Where the fuck is he?”
But there was no answer. Connor had been at the practice arena for over an hour and there was no sign from Webber. No call or text or, hell, carrier pigeon arriving. Nothing.
“Well, Boston can be a confusing city to drive in for the first time,” Gavin said in a philosophical tone. “The traffic is a bit … daunting and there are a lot of one-way streets. And your giant-ass traffic circles.”
Connor winced. That was true. “We call them rotaries here, thank you,” he reminded Gavin. And they were bigger and designed to be navigated at higher speeds than a traditional roundabout, like in Pennsylvania where Gavin was from. They could be a pain in the ass to navigate for someone unfamiliar with them.
Shit, Connor hoped Jesse hadn’t gotten into an accident.
“I should have made him ride with me,” Connor said grimly.
“Yes, you should have.”
“Fuck!” Connor rolled his shoulders. One had been feeling tight since he tossed Jesse over it. Unlike firemen, he didn’t exactly train for that shit. “I’m gonna go work out. I’m fucking stressed and I need to get some cardio and weights in or something.”
Gavin sighed. “I suppose there’s no reason not to. Even if Webber arrives soon, it’ll take a little while for the camera crew to get set up. Want a spotter on weights?”
“Sure. I’d appreciate that.”
They walked downstairs, splitting off to head for the players’ locker room and the one that the coaches and GMs used.
Connor sighed tiredly, stripping off his street clothing.
There weren’t many GMs who worked out with players but Gavin liked to be a little more involved in the day-to-day stuff than most. Frankly, Connor didn’t mind. He’d had some GMs who were so hands off they felt like they were operating in a different world. They treated players like they were commodities, no different from the facilities or the gear or any other inanimate object.
Gavin liked to get to know the guys.
Besides, anything Connor could do to get Gavin on his side was a positive thing. Connor had fumbled this one.
Only, he’d started to feel bad for Jesse. Started to think that maybe the kid really did have terrible luck and that he’d meant it when he said he’d be right there. Yeah, that had wound up being bullshit.
Connor changed into workout clothes, then went into the gym. Gavin was already there, dressed in shorts and a tee, cycling.
Connor hopped on a treadmill and did a quick warmup, jogging until sweat began to bead up on his forehead and his muscles felt loose.
He got off the treadmill, nodding at Gavin who slowed and stopped.
“Gonna do some bench presses,” he said. “It’s either that or I strangle the kid when he finally arrives.”
Gavin used his shirt to mop at his sweaty face, showing off his six-pack. Or was that an eight-pack? “I’m definitely starting to see why.”
Connor glanced away. He didn’t wanna find his GM attractive—and he certainly hadn’t had that issue with any of the previous ones—but Gavin’s body put Connor’s to shame.
Connor wasn’t into him into him, but he could see the appeal.
He fiddled with the weights until he was sure they were right, then settled on the bench on his back. He’d just positioned his hands on the bar when he heard a cheerful voice.
“Well, damn, two hot guys working out. This is a nice welcome to the team.”
Gavin let out a surprised laugh and Connor closed his eyes, counting to ten before he sat up to stare at Jesse. No, he wasn’t injured. In fact, he looked exactly the way Connor had left him over an hour ago.
“Nice of you to join us,” Connor said tightly. “And for the record, that’s your captain and General Manager you’re talking about.”
Jesse’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch like he hadn’t gotten a clear look at Gavin and realized who he was, before his expression smoothed out. “Well, it’s true. I mean, c’mon.” He gestured between Connor and Gavin.
Gavin chuckled, holding out a hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Webber. We’re going to need to have a talk about your punctuality, but we are glad to have you here in Boston.”
“Thanks! I’m excited to be here.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “Do you care to explain why you’re so fucking late?”
“Uhh, about that.” Jesse grimaced. “My baby was gone.”
“Your baby?” Connor frowned.
“My Jag! I have an F-type and she got towed.” His face contorted into a tragic expression.
Connor stifled the urge to roll his eyes. The kid desperately needed to get into the real world and figure out that there were far more serious things than an inconvenient tow.
Connor took another deep breath. “Then why didn’t you get a ride share here or something?”
“I did! But at first, I thought it got stolen and it took a while for the cops to get there and they, uh, weren’t very nice about it when they pointed out the tow zone sign.”
Yeah, Connor could imagine them getting a laugh out of that one.
“Haven’t you had enough fun with law enforcement in the past twenty-four hours?” Connor asked, because he was pissed but there was something humorous about the whole situation.
Jesse glared. “This isn’t funny, Connor .”
“It’s hilarious, Webber ,” Connor said. “But what isn’t funny is you not texting or calling. You should have let me know why you were running late.”
“I knew you’d yell at me,” Jesse muttered. “It was too early for that shit.”
Gavin’s lips tightened into a narrow line. “Webber, I understand that you’ve had a lot of leeway in the past but one of the expectations I have for everyone on this team is communication. There is no excuse for you not letting O’Shea or myself know why you were running late.”
“Sir, I?—”
“You can call me Gavin. However”—an edge of steel appeared in Gavin’s voice—”what I won’t tolerate is disrespect by continuing to make excuses. You are allowed to make mistakes. What you aren’t allowed to do is avoid taking ownership of them. Your behavior got you traded from Toronto. We are willing to give you a second chance here, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to be able to continue acting like an immature brat.”
Jesse’s face was sober now, and Connor could see the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. “Yes, sir-uhh, Gavin.”
“So, I expect you to be glued to Connor for the foreseeable future.” He settled a hand on Connor’s shoulder and Connor felt the weight of the entire franchise behind it. “You do what he says, without question.”
Jesse’s gaze shot over to Connor and he raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile lurking in his eyes now. The little shit, he was enjoying this, Connor thought, disgusted.
Gavin pursed his lips. “I understand you’ve had a rather easy go of things, Webber. You dominated in Juniors, you had a stellar run with the Black Bears in the AHL where you took home the Memorial Cup, and you were in net for some crucial playoff wins during Toronto’s Stanley Cup run last season. But none of that matters now. None of that is enough .”
“Sir, uh, Gavin, I?—”
Gavin held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Webber. Let me finish. You may be talented but being the backup goaltender in a tandem isn’t the same as being our starter. That will require far more discipline. And while I understand that’s never been expected of you before, it will be now. You will be on time for team events, practices, and games. You will carpool with Connor whenever he deems it necessary. And you will not inconvenience your team or any member of the Harriers’ staff. Do you understand?”
Jesse nodded. “I do.”
“And,” Gavin continued. “There will be no more excuses for your behavior. If you screw up, you will apologize. It’s as simple as that.”
“Understood, uh, Gavin.”
Gavin smiled. “Now, what do you say we get this filming started?”