CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Life had been a hell of a lot simpler when Connor was sure he was straight and he wasn’t fucking a guy on the team. Now everything felt all muddy and confusing and he was trying to be sure his team didn’t treat Jesse and Tanner like shit while also trying not to give in to his urge to get jealous.
It didn’t help that Jesse looked fucking great tonight.
Connor wasn’t even sure what it was that looked so good. Sure, his custom-fit jeans made his legs and ass look as fantastic as they felt, he had on a black shirt that made his eyes stand out, and he also had a piece of hair that kept falling over his forehead in a way that made Connor want to brush it out of the way.
But none of that should have made Connor feel this keyed up tonight. And then there was that stunt with the shot that had made Connor choke on his drink.
Because Jesse had to know how that looked. He had to know how it had made Connor think of the blowjob from the other day. And now Connor couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle Jesse or kiss him. Or, more likely both. Because that was just what Jesse did to him.
But neither were a good idea. Ugh, what was Connor thinking, fucking someone on the team?
Frankly, Connor wished he had a good reason to head home now instead of buying shots for a bunch of idiot hockey players in the name of team bonding. He didn’t usually go quite so hard with the liquor, but they had a day off tomorrow and half of the guys there wouldn’t be playing in the first few pre-season games. Connor certainly wasn’t.
He couldn’t wait to watch Jesse in net on Sunday though. He was going to be fucking good for the franchise.
Watching him at training camp had been electric .
“What do you think, Connor?” Jesse asked, settling a hand on his thigh under the table.
“Uhh, what?” he said, suddenly aware that he’d been paying zero attention to the guys for a few minutes.
“About some other team stuff we should do during the pre-season. I was thinking we’d do an escape room and maybe finding somewhere to do some zip lining.”
“Um, yeah, we could do that. I was planning to do some golf?—”
“Golf is boring.” Jesse made a face. “No, we can do better than that .”
Jesse squeezed Connor’s thigh and Connor had a sudden, horrible flashback to the drive home the other day when he’d nearly crashed his SUV several times. At least he was sitting down at the moment, but that didn’t mean it was safe.
Their teammates were right there for fuck’s sake!
Connor shifted forward, intending to push Jesse’s hand off, but unfortunately, that only pushed Jesse’s hand higher on his thigh.
Jesse squeezed again, pinkie teasing against his inseam, and Connor had to breathe shallowly through his nose.
Oh, he’d made a terrible decision.
The conversation flowed around him—Graham giving Jesse shit about hating golf, Jesse protesting that he didn’t hate it, he just got bored doing the same thing all the time, then coming up with increasingly wild-sounding team activities—before Connor finally had enough.
“Hey, I’m gonna …” he muttered, lurching out of the booth.
Jesse shot him a weird look but didn’t comment. Connor fled for the bar again, this time, making a beeline for the white-haired bartender pulling a pint.
“Hey there. What can I get you, O’Shea?” Liam O’Neill asked, his Irish accent not softened a bit by the decades he’d lived in America.
“Uh, just a water at the moment.”
Liam arched an eyebrow but nodded, filling the glass and sliding it across the scarred wooden bartop without a word.
Connor gulped it down and tried to act casual while he chatted with Liam. “How’s business been?”
“Oh, good. Can’t complain.” Liam resumed pulling pints, sliding them down the bar toward a couple of older guys parked there.
Connor sipped his water.
“So, what are our chances this season?” Liam asked in a jovial tone. He reached for a towel, mopping up some spilled liquid.
“Uhh, of what?” Connor asked.
Liam snorted. “Of winning the Triple Crown. What do you fuckin’ think? The Stanley Cup, my man.”
Connor grimaced. “Well, we’re working on it.”
“That’s what you’ve been saying since the last one.”
“Yeah, well …” Connor sighed.
Liam had left Ireland and settled in Boston long before Connor’s father had been captain, so he’d lived through the team’s heyday and its current slow, painful decline.
“Your new goaltender sounds like he might know what he’s doing.” He nodded toward the table.
“He does,” Connor agreed, assuming Liam was talking about Jesse, although Arkady was new as well.
He’d been in the AHL last season but he’d had a stellar season with them last year and a promising training camp. Not as good as Jesse, of course, but it was nice to see that they’d have a solid backup.
Connor rapped his knuckles on the bar, just to be safe.
“Bit of a hellion though,” Liam said in a conversational tone.
“We’re working on that too,” Connor said grimly.
Liam threw his head back and laughed. “Somehow, I get the feeling that’s going to be your biggest challenge.”
“Somehow, I get the feeling you’re right.”
“I mean, look at him now.”
Oh fuck. Connor’d had his back turned for three minutes … what had Jesse gotten up to now?
Connor swiveled on the stool to see Jesse up and dancing. This wasn’t a dancing sort of place. Some nights, there was a live band playing but even then, people mostly sat at tables and watched.
At the moment, the ancient jukebox was doing the hard work.
The song playing wasn’t made for dancing either, but somehow, Jesse had found a way. He danced alone, like he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, swaying and dipping and shimmying to the tune.
“Fucking goalies,” Connor muttered under his breath.
Behind him, Liam laughed. “Told ya.”
Connor stewed while he watched Jesse dance for a few more songs, gritting his teeth when a woman sidled up to him and joined in. They weren’t even dancing together, mostly swaying in unison, but it still made Connor want to stalk over and shove her out of the way.
And Connor could tell himself all he wanted that he was looking out for Jesse’s public reputation. That he didn’t want anyone to think Jesse was misbehaving. But that wasn’t all of it. Not even close.
After a song or two, when it became clear Jesse wasn’t taking the bait, the woman walked away, making a beeline for her friends.
Jesse kept dancing, clearly lost in his own little world.
It wasn’t until the music stopped, and a cheer went up from the bar, that Jesse glanced around, grinning.
“Let’s give it up for the dancing man!” Liam shouted.
Jesse bowed with a flourish, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses.
Everyone in the bar hooted and hollered and clapped, clearly appreciating his showmanship. Connor gritted his teeth, irritated by the whole thing.
Still beaming, Jesse wove through the tables, heading toward the back of the bar and the bathroom area.
Connor was on his feet and following before he could stop himself.
He caught up to Jesse inside the men’s room. It was nicer than the ones in most bars, with stalls that had solid walls without gaps. They had little signs indicating if they were occupied or not, and Connor quickly scanned them.
They were all empty at the moment, so he grabbed Jesse’s arm and tugged him into the stall farthest from the door, locking it behind them.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Connor hissed.
“Me? You’re the one who pushed me into a men’s bathroom stall,” Jesse said with a laugh, apparently still in a great mood.
“You’ve been driving me fucking insane for the past half hour!” Connor said with a scowl.
Jesse shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re easy to wind up.”
That was, unfortunately, true, Connor thought with a tinge of despair.
“What the fuck were you doing dancing anyway?” Connor asked instead of admitting that aloud.
Jesse shrugged. “I like dancing. Why do you care?”
“I think you need to tone shit down. You’re attracting all sorts of attention and?—”
Jesse’s mouth covered his, swallowing the words he’d been about to say.
Connor groaned, intending to pull away and yell at Jesse for trying to distract him but Jesse kissed him harder, fingers digging into his shoulders. It finally occurred to Connor why , when he heard the sound of someone whistling tunelessly and the splash of liquid, like they were emptying their bladder.
He stilled, figuring Jesse would too, but instead, he flicked his tongue against the seam of Connor’s lips.
Connor felt a weird, guilty thrill shoot through him. He’d never done anything like this, never imagined he’d find himself kissing a teammate in a bathroom stall while someone stood a handful of feet away. He was growing hard against Jesse’s hip and he bit back a groan, threading his hand into Jesse’s hair and tugging.
Jesse responded by sliding his leg between Connor’s.
A rush of heat went through Connor and he used his free hand to grasp Jesse’s ass, pressing him even closer, until there was no space between them at all, until Connor could barely tell where his body ended and Jesse’s began.
But a moment later, Connor dimly heard the bang of the door and they were alone again.
Jesse pulled back. “I’m getting tired of this, Connor.”
Connor’s heart dropped to his toes. “What? No, I thought we were having fun.”
Jesse blinked. “Dude, we are. But I’m getting tired of the jealousy.”
“Oh.” Connor released a breath, relieved. For a moment, he’d thought Jesse was tired of being with him. Tired of what they were doing together. He could handle Jesse being annoyed. He didn’t like the thought of Jesse wanting to end what they were doing. “I’m sorry?”
Jesse scowled. “It’s getting really old, really fast. I’m fucking you . What more do you need me to say? You’re acting like you want to own me!”
“It’s not that !” Connor snapped, because Jesse had it all wrong. “I don’t wanna own you, I swear.”
“Then what is it? Because you keep getting all tense and scowly when someone else gets close to me and you act like you want to take someone’s head off.”
“I am maybe a little bit jealous,” Connor admitted. “You’re so … you have all this experience and everyone wants you and I guess a part of me wonders what you’re doing with me.”
Jesse’s expression softened a little. “Connor …”
He sighed. “It’s dumb. I know. But I’ll try to chill out about it, okay?”
“That would be nice. Because I’m tired of it.”
“I’ll do better,” Connor promised. Because he wasn’t a perfect man but if there was one thing he could say about himself, it was that he knew how to work hard. He knew how to focus on improvement. On making progress.
“I’d appreciate that.”
“That’s not all though,” Connor said with a sigh. “It’s … I’m also fucking envious of how much fun you have at everything!”
He hadn’t even realized that was true until the words left his mouth. For a moment after, they both gaped at each other.
“What?” Jesse said, blinking. “You …”
Connor sighed, slumping against the wall. “I … don’t know. Forget I said anything.”
“No. What do you mean?”
“I mean … I mean I’ve spent my whole fucking life doing what I’m supposed to,” Connor said slowly, frowning at the button on Jesse’s shirt. “I’ve been the good son and good husband and good player and captain and father and everything everyone else needed. I’ve never … I’ve never just been able to … enjoy things.”
“Connor.”
Connor glanced up to see a soft look on Jesse’s face. That soft look was fine, but what he hated was the pity in his gaze. Jesse felt sorry for Connor.
And Connor didn’t want Jesse to feel sorry for him. He wanted him to want him. He wanted him to think he was fun and exciting and not well, exactly what he was. A thirty-five-year-old divorced father with baggage and no life outside of hockey.
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Connor said, reaching out again and trying to pull Jesse closer. “We should?—”
But Jesse resisted, bracing his arms on Connor’s chest, his gaze studying his face. “No, why do you feel that way?”
Connor laughed, a little bitterly. “Because it’s true? I mean, when I was a kid, my dad was playing pro hockey and Finn and Pat were gone all the time with their hockey, so it was mostly Kelly and me and my mom at home. And Kelly was little enough that I was the one who always looked after him. And everyone told me what a good brother I was, watching out for him, so I just kept doing it.”
“Okay,” Jesse said slowly.
“And like …” Connor fucking wished he was more sober right now because it was hard to pull together his thoughts with this much whiskey swimming in his brain. “Then I got serious about my hockey and I got drafted and I met Viv and there was Nolan and fuck ”—he squeezed his eyes tightly shut—”I love my son but I was practically a kid still when I had him and I was suddenly an NHL player and a father and a husband and I never … I never got to … figure out who I was.”
“Sure, that makes sense,” Jesse said. He still had his hands on Connor’s chest and they were warm and heavy and he looked so good and Connor had to swallow through the thickness of his throat.
“I don’t know who I am,” Connor admitted. “You know? Like, even my little brother has his shit figured out. I’m not saying what Kelly went through was easy either, not at all, but at least he knew who he was. And now he’s married and has the man of his dreams and I’m … hooking up with my fuckboy goaltender.”
That came out sounding a little more bitter than he intended.
Jesse gave him a lopsided grin. “Well, I’d put the last part in the win column, but …”
Connor managed a half-hearted smile back. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. And you—God, the sex is good , Jesse. I’m not sayin’ otherwise. I just feel … I feel lost right now, I guess. And like everyone else has their shit figured out when I don’t.”
“Uhh, well, you’re not the only one, Connor.” Jesse looked away, glancing over Connor’s shoulder, his face twisting with a frown. “I’m in Boston because I had too much fun . Because … everyone thinks I’m an irresponsible fuckup.”
“You’re not an irresponsible fuckup!” Connor protested.
Jesse snorted, looking him in the eye. “Tell me you didn’t think that about me this summer.”
Connor winced. “Okay, I did. But now that I know you, I know you’re great.”
“Well, that was never in question.”
“I’m just saying I don’t think you’re irresponsible,” Connor continued. “You don’t always make good choices but I can see you’re trying to and you have a good heart.”
“I don’t know that anyone has ever said that about me,” Jesse said with a soft laugh.
“Well, you do . Chaos follows you wherever you go but I can see you care about people. About your teammates. You’re good with my kids and I—I like you, Jesse.”
Connor swallowed hard because that felt a little more honest than he meant to be.
But Jesse merely grinned. “You’re pretty okay too, Captain Growly. You might think you’re boring but I dunno, I think it might be part of your charm.”
Connor laughed, tipping his head forward so it was pressed against Jesse’s, their noses brushing. “Well, now that we’ve established that , what do you say we do something a little wild?”
He slid his hands lower, letting them rest at the curve of Jesse’s waist, just above the swell of his ass, pulling Jesse more tightly against his body.
“Yeah?” Jesse asked, slipping his knee between Connor’s thighs once again. “Like what?”
Connor leaned in, brushing his nose against the side of Jesse’s jaw, liking the way their bodies fit together. “Like … maybe I could blow you.”
He’d never done it before, but he could learn. He could learn anything he put his mind to.
“Fuck yes.” Jesse shifted back, looking him in the eye. “But not here .”
“Oh, c’mon,” Connor protested. “Isn’t that half the fun?”
“For me? Definitely. For you? Probably not.”
“No, I don’t have to be boring,” Connor protested. “I can be fun and exciting and all that.”
“Of course you can,” Jesse said with a little shrug. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea now.”
“Why?” Connor protested. “C’mon?—”
But the sound of the door swinging open and Graham Pennington calling out, “Hey, Captain. You in here?” made Connor freeze.
Oh shit , he mouthed and Jesse shot him an ‘I told you so’ look.
Connor cleared his throat. “Yeah. Right here.”
“Just checking to be sure you didn’t fall in,” Pennington said, chuckling. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
“Nope, I’m good,” Connor managed. “Be out in a sec.”
He shot Jesse a wild-eyed look but he merely smoothed Connor’s hair, then flushed the toilet. He turned Connor, facing him toward the door, then gently tapped his ass as if to say, “go”.
Connor went, grateful when the door swung tightly shut behind him.
He found Graham leaning against the wall near the exit, doing something on his phone.
“Hey, thanks for checking on me,” Connor said, making a beeline for the sink. “But really, I’m fine.”
He washed his hands, aware his face was very red. Thankfully, drinking always made him flush, so Graham probably wouldn’t think twice about it.
“Yeah, I saw you go after Webber and I wanted to be sure you didn’t kill him. I thought I might need to come help you dispose of the body.”
Connor laughed. Graham was a great alternate captain. Young, but very promising.
“Appreciate it,” Connor said, drying his hands. “But you don’t need to help me cover up a crime. We had a few words but it didn’t come to blows.”
“Good. Because I was going to tell you that you shouldn’t be so hard on him.”
“Yeah?” Connor asked, surprised.
Graham was straitlaced too. Quiet, polite, hard-working. He never over-indulged or was late.
Graham shrugged. “He seems like a good guy. I know you’ve gotta keep him in line, but don’t put out his spark.”
If only Graham knew that Jesse was the one who was behaving tonight and Connor was the one threatening to get them in trouble.
“I won’t,” Connor promised, walking toward the door. “I just don’t want a repeat of Toronto.”
Graham shrugged, pushing the door open. “Well, I do. I’d fucking love to win the Cup and go on a total bender after.”
Laughing, Connor slapped his shoulder and followed him back into the bar. Well, apparently Graham wasn’t completely buttoned up.
While Connor was otherwise occupied, half the guys had left. Tanner and the woman playing pool were gone. Tucker was still here though, talking to Liam at the bar. To Connor’s surprise, Arkady was making out with a woman in a booth nearby. Well, perhaps some things didn’t require two people to speak the same language.
Connor slid into the team’s booth, taking in the guys who were still left. They looked buzzed and relaxed. Happy.
“So, is everyone set for a ride home?” Connor asked, because he didn’t want anyone driving drunk.
Graham made a face. “I’m Kady’s ride so that’s gonna be interesting.”
“Kady?” Connor asked.
“Yeah, that’s Webber’s nickname for him,” Crawford said. “Seems to be sticking so far. Hey, speaking of the devil, where the fuck have you been, Webber?”
Jesse slid into the booth on the opposite side of the table. “Oh, just wanted some fresh air. The patio in the back looks like it must be nice in good weather. It’s starting to sprinkle now though.”
Connor frowned but he could see little droplets of water on Jesse’s shoulders. Apparently, he’d gone out in the rain just to make sure he had a good cover story.
A surge of gratitude went through Connor. He had been too risky tonight but Jesse had covered his ass. He sighed with relief. Maybe Jesse was right. Maybe he did need to be more careful.
“Yeah. I like this place,” Graham said, glancing around.
“Did you know this team has been coming to the bar since Declan O’Shea played?” Crawford said, nodding to the brick wall. There were framed photos there, signed by notable people in Boston.
A fair chunk of them were either related to Connor or guys he’d grown up with who he still thought of as uncles.
Connor felt the weight of that legacy bear down on him again and he took a deep breath, reminding himself what was at stake.
There was a reason he didn’t get wild. A reason he was always careful about the choices he made.
Connor liked this group, had high hopes for them. They had a tough season ahead of them and they needed a clear-headed, steady leader. He couldn’t do anything to risk that.