Chapter 32
thirty-two
. . .
Amelia
Robby has been giving me weird looks all week.
Every time I turn around, he’s watching me, a furrow in his brow.
On our road trip, he made a point to sit beside me on our flights, and in the few days we’ve been home, he’s asked me to lunch each day.
I always have a carefully crafted excuse for why I can’t be alone with him.
In the pit of my stomach, I know he knows. And if he asks me outright, I won’t lie to him. He doesn’t deserve to be deceived. I just have to hope that he’ll agree to keep my secret.
Derek calls me, Zac, and Graham in for our morning staff meeting, checking on our caseloads. I don’t think anything of it until, as he’s closing the meeting, he adds one last remark.
“Don’t forget to do your sexual harassment training by the end of the week.” His eyes linger on me, and I keep my face carefully neutral. “It’s assigned in the learning module for all staff members.”
“You got it, boss,” Graham says, giving him a salute.
“Didn’t we just do it?” Zac asks.
“Management decided it’s time for a refresher,” Derek says. “The training should take less than half an hour. Knock it out, and we can go on with our day.”
I nod, my stomach swirling with nerves.
Someone knows.
Someone high in management knows. What the hell do we do now?
The only good thing about Jason’s injury is that we can’t work together until his cast is removed and he’s cleared for light movement. There’s no chance of fraternizing when he’s banned from travel and isn’t playing.
It’s still shitty, though. I don’t want to spend time outside of work with any of the players, only my boyfriend.
Now that the team is home, there’s a steady stream of visitors at Jason’s place. I haven’t be spent the night since I got back. The guys are constantly at their captain’s door, inviting themselves over for dinner or video games or a chat.
As happy as I am that he has a support network, I selfishly want him all to myself. I don’t want to share him.
But this is part and parcel of being captain. He has to be there to lend an ear and support his teammates. I just wish I could be with him and not relegated to my apartment—or worse, sitting quietly in his bedroom, like his dirty little secret.
I could go to management. I could tell them we’re together.
Except I don’t know if he is ready for that.
There has been no mention of going down to HR.
He didn’t even tell me he talked to Tyler about us; my brother told me, and as glad as I am to know they approve of us, I wish it was something we did together.
No, Jason’s kept everything close to his chest; almost too close.
He won’t talk about what happens next. About what he’ll do after the season’s over. Will he try for another contract?
Jason is on my mind all through my morning patients, and as I walk into the lounge to fill my water bottle, I find him sitting with MacGregor and Easton, the two assistant captains.
Nodding at the guys, I make my way to the water filter, filling the bottle. I can hear the low murmur of voices, the words indistinct.
I head back to my office to input my notes on Sinclair’s wrist when there’s a knock on the open door. Swiveling on the stool, my stomach swoops when Jason crutches his way into the small office, closing the door behind him.
My mouth runs dry. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” he says. “And since I can’t seem to get five minutes alone with you at home…”
“You’ve been busy.” There’s no judgment in my voice, only resignation.
“Yeah.” Jason clears his throat. “I made a decision, and it’s something that impacts you, so I need you to not freak out about it.”
“Okay…” My heart rate ricochets up.
“You’re certain you don’t want kids, right? One hundred percent?” There’s a furrow between his brow. “Because if this is a work thing…”
“I don’t want kids,” I tell him. “Yes, I value my career more than having a child. But I also don’t want a child of my own. I have a niece I adore. That’s enough for me.”
He lets out a gusty breath. “Okay. Then, I need a favor.”
“Oh?”
“You’re off on Thursday. It’s the league mandated day off.”
Carefully, I nod. Where’s he going with this?
“Do you mind…” He swallows. “What I’m trying to say is, I need a ride.”
“A ride? To the doctor?”
“Yeah. I’m seeing a specialist.”
I blink. “Okay, I’m missing something here. Because you’re acting like this is the end of the world. It’s not. Your ankle will heal. You’ll be fine.”
Jason shakes his head. “It’s not for my ankle. I have an appointment with a urologist.”
“Okay?”
“For a vasectomy,” he blurts.
My eyebrows go sky high. “What?”
“I don’t want kids. And you don’t want kids. And I’m out for the season,” he rushes out. “So, why not get it done? Get it over with?”
“You want to have a vasectomy because I don’t want kids?”
“I don’t want them, either,” he says. “If you did… If you did, it’s something I’d consider, but it would probably be the end for us. At the very least, I’d resent you for forcing me into it.”
I flinch.
“But I don’t want them. Neither do you. I’m fine with Ainsley and my nieces and nephews,” he hurries to add. “Kids can still be part of our lives without being our children.”
“So, you’re having a vasectomy,” I say slowly.
He nods. “I know in the grand scheme of things, it’s a minor procedure. A bit of local anesthetic, and I’ll be fine. But I’d like you to be there.”
“To hold your hand?” I tease, trying to get my bearings.
“Yeah, Amelia,” Jason says, with a shy smile. “I’d like you to hold my hand.”
Swallowing my fears, I rise from my stool and approach him. We don’t touch at work; not after what happened in this very room all those months ago.
But I can’t stop myself from fisting his shirt and tugging until he ducks down enough that I can kiss him.
It’s been days since we’ve been alone together. Two weeks since we last had sex on the day of his injury. I miss him. He’s right in front of me. He’s so close, but there’s so much separating us.
Jason groans into the kiss, his tongue slipping past my lips to tangle with mine. I wrench back, meeting his eyes.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” he says.
I go to kiss him again, but before I can, there’s a knock on the door.
Taking a step back, I smooth his shirt from where I gripped the soft cotton, fix my hair, and open the door.
“Ready for me?” Jenkins asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of athletic shorts and slides with socks. His eyes widen at the sight of his captain in my office. “Hey, McKittrick. How’s the ankle?”
“I’m fine,” he says firmly. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, and then closes it again.
Jenkins pushes past him into the office, laying on the bed. “How do you want me?”
Jason’s face contorts in fury.
“Right there is fine,” I say calmly. “Your elbow shouldn’t take me long to deal with.”
“Does that mean your day is almost done?” Jenkins asks, propping his head up on his left arm, the angle making his biceps bulge. His muscles do nothing for me. “Maybe we can hang out after, grab some dinner.”
“I have plans,” I tell him, pulling up his file on my tablet.
Jason lingers just inside the doorway, and I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Maybe another time,” Jenkins says, not dissuaded in the slightest.
“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much,” I say lightly.
Jenkins’ smirk grows wider. “Bring him along.”
Chancing a glance at Jason, he’s clenching his fists, about ten seconds away from barging into my office and punching his teammate in the face.
That’s one way to tell people about us.
“Look, I’m not into sharing or parties.” My kink of showing off for Jason through our windows is one thing. I’m not interested in full-on exhibitionism in either a public or private setting.
The hockey player on my table laughs. “Amelia. I’m asking you to hang out. You’re cool, but if you’re seeing someone, I respect that. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.
“You should. We’re on the road so much, it helps if we like each other and get along.” He shrugs, as best he can while laying on my table. “We’re all a family here. Isn’t that what McKittrick always says? We can all hang out and have fun. It doesn’t have to be more than it is.”
Humming, I start to work on his elbow. My eyes dart toward the doorway, but Jason is gone, the door ajar.
What is he thinking?