9. Devon
9
DEVON
Every win felt amazing, but winning at home was always sweeter. I loved the way the crowd roared in the Jetties’ arena. The way they celebrated together.
Finally on the way to my truck, I thought I was able to escape King. I was so close. Feet away from gripping the door handle, but he caught me with his hand on my elbow.
“You’re coming out with us tonight.” It wasn’t a question, though he said it with a smile.
I gently shook him off. “I appreciate the invite, but I want to go home and relax.”
“D, you haven’t been out with us in forever. I let you stay in when we were on the road. I let you duck out with the last few home games. Tonight, you’re going to live a little.”
Leslie came up alongside King, a wide smile on his face. “Come on, D. Enjoy a night in the city.”
I never did get to talk to Leslie like I wanted to. When I called him after dinner at my parents’, he apologized like he always did. Told me he’d do better. It wasn’t enough. I needed to sit down with him. Let him know I was here for him if he wanted to talk. Besides being teammates, Leslie was my friend.
“Fine,” I relented. “But one of you better pick my ass up. I don’t feel like driving.” I didn’t want to go out in my suit and also needed a bit of time to decompress and unwind from the game. The drive home would give me that. Just a little bit of peace and quiet until I got to the club.
King beamed like I had just handed him the Stanley Cup and pulled me in for a hug. “Finally!” Then he turned to look at Hayes, who was waiting by King’s BMW. “You hear that? D is coming so you have to as well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied then got into the car. He sounded as excited as I was.
I glanced at Leslie, silently asking him to be my ride. “I’ll pick you up,” he said. “That way you don’t have to listen to King’s shit music thumping in your ears the whole drive into the city.”
King released me and playfully shoved Leslie. The goalie might be a fighter but never with his own team. “Shut your mouth. You don’t even know what music is.”
Rolling his eyes, Leslie backed toward his Corvette Stingray while giving King the finger. “I’ll see you in an hour, D.”
As King was walking toward Hayes, he shouted back to me, “You’re going to have fun tonight! Just wait and see!” Yeah, I was pretty sure he was going to have fun while Hayes and I wished we were anywhere else, and we tried to keep Leslie from throwing down with someone he didn’t even know.
In my truck, I started the forty-minute drive out of the city to my house. That only gave me twenty to get changed before Leslie got there. He was punctual as hell. Plus, I got the feeling he knew I had to talk with him. It was put off long enough.
At home, I flipped the lights on as I walked through the house and made my way to the bedroom, where I got out of my suit and put on a pair of nice jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that was on the thinner side. It would be hot in the club, even if I wasn’t dancing.
Just like I’d predicted, Leslie pulled up at the hour mark. I was already walking toward the front door when his headlights cast their beams into the house. After two years of the guys bitching that the rocks in my driveway were dinging up their vehicles, which they wouldn’t have been if they slowed the hell down, I finally got the driveway paved. I liked the stones. They always let me know if someone was coming down the drive. I didn’t have that anymore.
My house was a good way back from the road, with trees along the way that were thick enough to block anyone from seeing much when they drove by. I specifically had it built so the driveway had to curve to get to the house. I didn’t want someone turning in and seeing my house right away. If I didn’t play hockey, I was pretty sure I could take up the life of a hermit.
Grabbing my wallet, keys, and phone, I set the alarm, and locked the house. Leslie had turned his car around so he was facing out. I opened the passenger door and slid inside. I hated getting into these sports cars. I felt like I was sitting on the ground. I understood the draw to them, but they weren’t for me.
Leslie set off back toward the city. He lived about ten minutes from me so it wasn’t a hardship for him to pick me up. Hell, King would have driven here if it meant I was going out with them tonight.
“I never understood how you wedge yourself into this car,” I said to him as we turned onto the road. Leslie was six foot five and roughly two hundred and thirty pounds.
He chuckled and rubbed his scruff which matched his shoulder-length blond hair. “Are you kidding me? This car gets me all the guys.”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. “You get the guys for the wrong reasons with this.”
“Once they see me and realize I’m not some executive in a suit, the car doesn’t matter anymore. It’s being with a celebrity.”
“I know you’re not that shallow, Les.”
“Are you calling King names?” He grinned.
I let out a breath, waiting for him to get serious.
“You never let me hide my true self.” His voice was firm now, all joking aside.
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m not going to lie and say the perks of being a goalie in the NHL aren’t great. I have no trouble walking into a club and finding someone to take home.”
“But that’s not what you want.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re not happy. If you were, you wouldn’t be getting into fights all the time and I wouldn’t have to hear about it from everyone. Even my mom heard before I did with this last one.”
Leslie eased the car onto the highway to take us toward Espen. “What do you want me to say? I fucked up.”
“You did and you apologized. Now tell me why.”
The streetlights illuminated just enough of the interior where I could see the firm set of Leslie’s jaw. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Well, too fucking bad, neither did I.
“Out with it,” I told him. “Or I’ll keep you driving until you hit Atlantic City. You’re not getting out of this car until we talk.” He knew I wasn’t going to play games. There was no getting out of this discussion. He couldn’t go on the way he was.
“It’s my ex, all right?”
“Your ex?”
“Yeah, he’s dating someone new.”
“So? You haven’t been together in what? Eight years?”
I wasn’t sure what happened between them, but when Leslie moved up and got a spot on South Carolina’s NHL team, his relationship with his ex ended. He had to move from Pittsburgh, leaving him behind to chase his dream. I didn’t know much about him but with the money Leslie got with his deal, I was sure it would have been enough for them both to live on.
“It’s more than him. Everyone is coupling up. Friends I have back home. Guys on the team. Now my ex. Why isn’t it happening for me?” The pain in his voice had my own emotions rising. I felt bad for him. It was obvious this was something he wanted.
“You need to stay off social media. Nothing good will come from you being on there if this is how you feel afterward.”
Leslie made a fist and rubbed his chest right over his heart. “I’ve tried to find someone. Fuck, I’ve dated enough guys that you’d think Mr. Right would be with me by now, but no luck. I worry I’m always going to be alone.”
I laid my hand on his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles bunched there, and gave him a quick squeeze. I kept my voice soft, gentle. “You’re not. You’re going to find someone. Not that I can speak from personal experience. I’ve never been in that deep, all-consuming love. But what I do know is you can’t go on like this. You’re drinking too much, getting in too many fights. This has to stop. It’s bad publicity for you and the team and you’re never going to find someone this way. How long do you think they’re going to tolerate this shit for?” I hated seeing him hurt, but maybe if I made him focus on hockey it would ease the pain he was feeling a little. He’d be distracted, at least for a bit.
He shook his head. “I’m surprised I haven’t been traded yet, if I’m being honest. The alcohol numbs things. Makes everything seem easier if only for a little while.”
“Stop sabotaging your career. If you need to get your aggression out on something, you have that heavy bag in your basement we both know can take a pounding. Beat the shit out of it, but stop going out drinking and punching assholes in the face.”
He turned to me before looking back at the road again. “How do you know they’re assholes? They could be upstanding citizens.”
“You need a reason to fight. Someone always says something that’s just enough to get under your skin before you throw the first punch.”
“They could start it,” he grumbled.
“They could, but nine times out of ten, you do.”
He didn’t say anything, although his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
I let it go after that. I got my point across and hoped he was listening. I didn’t want to keep talking to him about his behavior. More than that, I didn’t want to see him get into any more trouble. The fights were starting to overpower the good he did when we played. I was sure Katie, our PR person for the Jetties, was tired of trying to clean up the destruction he left in his wake.
We finally made it to the club, but before we stepped inside, I pulled Leslie to a stop next to me on the sidewalk. “I hope you know I’m not here just to do my duties as captain. You’re my friend and I don’t want to see anything happen to you. I care, Les. I want you happy.”
“I know you do.” He pulled me in for a hug. As much as he was a fighter, the man hugged like a giant teddy bear. “Thanks for talking to me.”
I pulled back. “Always.”
Leslie was looking at something over my shoulder with that mean-ass look he got when he was in his zone in front of the net. Turning, I saw a photographer holding a camera.
“Are you two dating?” the guy asked. If I had to put my money on it, I’d bet he worked for that shit paper, The Espen Gazette .
“Can’t friends hug?” Leslie all but growled.
“Sure?”
“Whatever, asshole. He’s my friend, nothing more, but I’m sure you’ll spin that in your article so me and Devon are now lovers.”
The guy looked shocked. His mouth dropped open, he started sputtering. He didn’t even look old enough to legally drink. “I wouldn’t… That’s not what…”
Fuck’s sake.
Normally, I would have walked away. I hated this shit. I should have gone into the club to talk to Leslie. Or better yet, said this stuff while we were still in the privacy of his car. But there was something about this photographer that made me push my need to avoid the media aside and walk over to him. “Who do you work for?”
“No one.” His voice shook now. Leslie really scared him. “I have m-my own blog. I was just asking for it. Not for the Gazette or any of the others. I promise.”
“What’s your name?”
“Orin.”
“Okay, Orin. I’m going to give you an email. Tomorrow I want you to reach out to Katie. She does PR for the Jetties. I want you to set up a time with her to interview me and Leslie. Not on camera. If you’re going to run a story about us, I want it to be factual. And by that, I mean that we are certainly not dating. If you go public and say we are, I can assure you, the Jetties will never have anything to do with you.” I was talking out my ass. No one was going to blacklist him for running a fake news article. It happened all the time. “We’ll talk hockey.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. D’Agostino.”
I gave Orin the email and he went on his way with a big, yet still nervous, smile.
Leslie put his arm over my shoulders. “You did a good thing.”
“I’m not sure about that, but we don’t need a rumor going around that we’re fucking.”
He pulled back with a mock gasp. “You mean, you don’t want to pound my ass?” He turned slightly to show me his backside. “After all this time, I thought that’s why you liked me.”
I shoved his back. “Get in the club before King comes out here then I’ll have to run inside to hide from the attention he’ll draw.”
Leslie’s laugh was loud, and it was a good thing to hear. His earlier mood was gone. In its place was the man I knew he was. The one I wanted the world to think of when they heard his name. Not the guy who like to drink and fight.
As we walked into the club, toward the VIP area where King was holding court with Hayes by his side, I glanced around at the bodies writhing to the music. People were laughing and having a good time. Drinks were being poured behind the bar. Patrons were lined up, waiting their turn. I was hit with the reminder of how I really didn’t want to be here tonight.
But that wasn’t my luck. I had to appease King, so he’d leave me alone for a while.
People stopped and greeted Leslie and me. Asked for autographs. It wasn’t until we were seated by King and Hayes that I let my mind wander to Lincoln. He wouldn’t like this place, not when he didn’t want to go to a hockey game. This wasn’t any better. Not with how loud it was and the way the lights flashed and bounced around the expansive room. It further proved to me how good we could be together. I didn’t like this stuff either, but for different reasons.
I hoped he agreed to dinner with me one day. I’d wait however long it took. I wasn’t interested in anyone else. Not when his gorgeous smile kept popping up in my mind.