Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
RYAN
I shouldn’t have done that. Checking out a player while he was dressing was totally unethical behavior, no matter how much my dick was on board and he’d shown interest. Huffing a sigh, I strolled to the hallway leading to my office. Jonah was getting to me. This was the first time I’d ever considered having an affair with a player. But the discussion I’d had with him after practice had sparked something in me. Interest? No, more than that.
I dropped into my office chair and scanned the room, the head coach desk facing this one, both in dark woods. I was sharing with the head coach for now, but hopefully they’d give me my own space next year. My gaze ran over the whiteboard on the wall. All our best-thought-out plays seemed to have fallen apart tonight.
I sat back in my chair, then tipped my head, gazing at the ceiling. Coach Finley hadn’t been too upset about me talking to Jonah after his hit. He’d been irritated but had kept his mouth shut. I had to watch myself. Jonah wasn’t my player. But he’d looked so dejected after the hit…
Coach Patterson entered the office. “Any plans for tonight?” He hauled his laptop bag off the floor and slid his laptop into it .
“No.” I stood. I should leave too. “Unless you call having a drink to wallow in our loss plans.” I freed a ragged chuckle. I’d already made my excuses not to see Owen tonight. The guy had turned into a pushy bastard, texting and calling all the time, and I was seeing red flags everywhere.
Slipping his laptop bag over his shoulder, he shook his head with a soft snort. “No, and I’ll probably be doing the same.” He headed for the doorway. “Anyhow, have a good night and I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully, we can talk some fire into the guys.”
“Hopefully.” I up-nodded him, then picked up my bag. It was time to go home to my empty apartment and my bottle of Crown Royal.
After settling in on my sofa with Chinese noodles and a two-fingered pour of Canadian whisky, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. Fuck, not again. I set my plate down and hauled my phone to my face.
Owen
What are you doing?
I’d already told him I was busy, but the guy never gave up. I should probably start ignoring him, but I wasn’t built like that. I was too nice. The perfect Canadian gentleman. With a sigh, I tapped on my phone.
Ryan
Working. Going over some game footage from tonight. I told you I’d be busy.
I hadn’t started viewing the game footage yet, but so what. I watched the three dots pop up on my phone. Of course, he wasn’t taking a hint. I’d only given in and met up with him one other time since our hookup on New Year’s Eve, meeting up at his place for a second round of blowjobs. But fuck, he wasn’t doing it for me. Especially now that Jonah had my attention. And it wasn’t healthy to pretend Owen was Jonah when all I could see was his head bobbing over my dick. Speaking of which…
An image of Owen’s hard cock popped up on my phone, obviously taken in his bathroom judging by the white cabinets I’d seen at his place when I’d been there.
Owen
I’m thinking of you.
“Fuck.” I breathed out a sigh. Do I ignore him? Put my phone on Do Not Disturb , maybe? No, he already knew I’d read the message.
Ryan
That’s nice, but I really need to focus on my game footage.
Owen
What about tomorrow night? Can we meet up?
“Jesus, I already told you we could.” Now, I didn’t want to. In fact, I’d be happy if I never saw the guy again. I stabbed out my reply. He’d worn out his welcome.
Ryan
Yes, I’ll text you after the game.
Owen
Maybe we can meet up at The Club on Mill again?
Ryan
Sure .
Then, at least, we’d be someplace public and it wouldn’t be classified as a date. I set my phone on the sofa cushion. Last time we’d been together, he’d been a little rougher than I’d liked too. He was the kind of guy who was into his own pleasure more than his partner’s.
My phone buzzed again.
I scoffed. “No, I am not going to answer anymore tonight.” I set my phone on Do Not Disturb and turned it face-down. Had I really been so desperate to find new people after my move that I’d allowed a weirdo into my life? Yes, yes, I had.
Picking up my plate of noodles, I opened my laptop, resting next to my whisky on the coffee table, and started the game footage.
The illegal hit on Jonah ran across my screen.
I winced. The guy who hit Jonah was a total grinder. Coach Finley had to see that. Hopefully, he’d warned his guys about it the way I had. They’d better not go after Jonah again, or I’d… I tipped my head back. “You’d what, Ryan? Step in again?” I refocused on my screen, watching Jonah scramble to stand but then slap his hands to his knees as he bent over. Heat crept across my chest. The fucker better not go after Jonah again, or I would step right the fuck in.
My phone buzzed and buzzed some more.
“For fuck’s sake.” I stopped the footage and, with a scowl, turned it over. The screen read, Dad . No wonder. He was on my Favorites list, so he’d gotten through. I answered the call and put him on speaker. “Hey, Dad.” It was unusual for him to be calling.
“Hi. How’s it going, eh?” He chuckled. “You moved down to the States, right?”
“Uh, yeah, I have. I moved right after Christmas Day.” I leaned against the back of my couch and circled my finger over the fabric of my sweats on my thigh. Why did talking to him always make me feel like I was a kid again?
“So, how is it?” he asked .
I scanned my apartment and the darkness outside the patio doors, the only light inside coming from a pair of cream ceramic lamps on the side tables next to my couch. “It’s good so far. I’m living close to campus and the barn.” I wasn’t going to tell him about the gay bar that was within walking distance. He’d think it was the only reason I was living here.
“Good, so you’re all set up?” He took a deep inhale.
“I am. I didn’t have too much stuff, so…” Because most of what I’d had before actually belonged to Laurent. My chest pricked. I was making my own way now, without him. “I’m, uh, sorry I didn’t call. I’ve been pretty busy with the team. We started up practices a few days after I got here, and I coached my first game tonight.” I winced. I knew what was coming.
“Oh? And how’d you do?”
“We, uh, we lost,” I said with a grimace. “But we have a new strategy for tomorrow night. In fact, I was going over game?—”
“Not a great way to start your college coaching career,” he grumbled.
Fuck. “No, but it’s only the first game. Things will get better. This is a good team, Dad, and I’m sure the head coach will be a good mentor.” Tyler and Archer were starting to gel, and with them living in the same house, I knew I could make it work. I should get him off the subject of my new job. “How’s the physical therapy office?”
“Same. Mrs. Finnegan is getting her other knee replaced, so she’s coming in three times a week. Demanding as hell.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, I remember her.” Warmth crept through my chest. I’d helped out sometimes in Dad’s office. It was a little extra experience I could use to help my players. “You know she was mean to some of your therapists, but she liked to bring me cookies.”
“She was always sweet on you.” He sighed, and a high-pitched voice whined through the phone. “Stop it, Sheila. Daddy’s on the phone.” Muffled voices came through the line. “Yes, it’s Ryan,” he said, “No, you need to go to bed now. ”
“Someone’s up late.” I chuckled. My little sister Sheila was part of the reason I didn’t hear from Dad much anymore. He had a new family now. That, and I wasn’t playing hockey anymore. Dad had stopped playing hockey after high school and I was supposed to carry on his dream and go all the way to the NHL. After I was injured, our relationship had never been the same. Right after my injury was when he’d started arguing with Mom too. Then came the divorce?—
“How is your mother?” he asked.
I trailed my finger over the edge of my phone, tilting my head. “She’s sounding well. I spoke to her on New Year’s Eve. She’s, um, cancer-free.” I wasn’t sure if he knew or not.
“Oh, fantastic. I was wondering, I mean, since you left,” he said.
“Yeah, I stayed with her until she got the final test results, then made my plans.” My mind filled with the memories of cleaning up after her, making her meals she could stomach, and just being with her while she’d been miserable. My gut tightened. No one should ever go through cancer alone.
“That was a good thing you did, son. Taking care of her like that. I’m proud of you,” he said.
The corners of my eyes stung and the phone blurred. “Thanks, Dad.” I swiped my nose before I’d have to sniffle. He didn’t need to know he’d made me emotional. But fuck, I hadn’t heard that from him since I’d won my last game. The one before the injury.
“Anyway, I need to get going. I just wanted to check in since I hadn’t heard from you,” he said in a stern tone.
“I know, and I’m sorry. But everything is going well here, so don’t worry about me.” I twisted my lips. Well, everything except for the stalker I’d picked up at the gay bar and the player I was fighting to stay on a professional level with.
“Okay, good to know. Don’t be a stranger, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yep. Bye, Dad. Love you. ”
“Love you too.” The call hung up.
I stared at my phone for a moment. He’d acted more caring than he’d been in a long time. Was it the physical distance, maybe? I didn’t know, and right now, I had footage to watch, noodles to heat, and whisky to drink.
The next evening, I stood at the back of the bench, Coach Finley on one side and Coach Patterson on the other. My other half, Coach Hammett, had gone off to scout for next season. I glanced at the scoreboard at the top of the arena. We had five more minutes to hold on to our lead of two to zero.
I leaned over to Finley, my gaze following Boehm as he powered the puck down the ice and into Michigan’s defensive zone, then shot a pass to Hopkins. “Boehm’s playing well tonight.”
Hopkins slapped the puck at the goal.
With a flick of his arm, the goalie snatched the puck and then set it on the ice.
“He is. Last night, he was…off. I’m not sure why.” Finley rubbed his chin, laser-focused on the players. “In fact, it seemed like he might have been distracted by something.” His gaze dragged to mine, and he hooked a brow.
“Huh.” My heart stuttered. Had Finley noticed something between us? I’d caught Jonah looking my way so many times it was obvious to me anyway. “I wonder what.”
He scoffed a laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, I wonder.” Looking around for a beat, he leaned in close. “It’s common for players to crush on coaches. It happens all the time on the women’s hockey team.” He looked me up and down. “He knows you’re gay, right?”
“Yeah, I told him.” I glanced at my shiny black shoes, then focused on Hodge, going after the Michigan winger who took out Jonah last night. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted, “That’s right, go for it, Hodge. You got this!”
“Anyway, let me know if you need any advice.” Pursing his lips, he signaled Hopkins.
Hopkins up-nodded him and skated toward us.
“Yeah, sure.” An ache teased my heart. That was a warning if I’d ever heard one. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t doing anything unethical and would not be doing so in the future.
A few hours later, after holding our lead and taking a win, I strolled down Mill Avenue toward The Club on Mill. Owen was already there. I’d gotten at least five text messages from him asking me where I was. I had a feeling tonight would be the last time I’d meet up with him. He was a stage-five clinger, for sure.
I hopped up the metal steps, showed the bouncer my ID, then strolled inside the club. The dance music was thumping through the crowd and lights flashed overhead. The place was packed tonight.
Owen strode to me, a thin-lipped grin on his face. “Took you long enough.” He wound an arm around my waist and led me to the bar.
“I told you. I was working.” I planted an elbow on the bar and wriggled out of his hold, then signaled to the bare-chested bartender.
The bartender sauntered down to me, and I ordered a beer. No shots tonight. I wanted to keep my head clear with the way Owen was behaving.
“But the game ended what, two hours ago?” His grin faded and his gaze grew hard. “What the hell were you doing for the last two hours?”
I stared at him a moment. Was he serious right now? “Well, there are things a coach has to take care of. We talk to the players after and?— ”
Jonah and his buddies on the team waltzed in through the door of the bar, all of them dressed to kill. A sheer black cropped shirt stretched over Jonah’s wide chest and his ab muscles flexed over his form-fitting jeans. His black bangs fell to his cheekbones on either side of his blue eyes.
Good God, the guy was an adonis. Desire flared in my gut, and I parted my lips.
“Hey, who are you looking at?” Owen grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to meet his. “I’m right here, not over there.” He glanced behind him, then scowled.
I stepped backward, my chest heating. “Dude, don’t manhandle me.” It was time to start standing my ground, nice guy or not.
“What?” Owen raised his brows. “Oh shit, sorry.” With a sharp chuckle, he lifted his beer glass to his lips and stopped. “Just remember you’re with me. Okay?”
I took a deep inhale. What the fuck? But he had apologized. “Those guys are on my team. Two of them are guys I coach directly.” As I drank my beer, my gaze snagged on Jonah’s.
With an instant grin, Jonah tagged Archer’s shoulder and tilted his head my way.
Archer focused on me and stopped, then he lifted a glass to me.
After the two of them had some quick words, Jonah made his way through the men in the bar toward me.
Shit, this was awkward, especially with Owen being such a loose cannon. I wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth. Plus, it didn’t look good for a coach to be with a guy like Owen. I was supposed to be setting a good example, be a mentor.
“You have gay players on your team?” Owen furrowed his brows and shifted, throwing an arm around my shoulders and tugging me into his side.
“I do.” Shrugging his arm off, my pulse quickened. “Stop it.” I glared at him .
“Coach Gibson. Nice to see you outside of the barn.” Narrowing his eyes, Jonah looked Owen up and down.
Owen swung his arm around my waist like he was laying claim to me. Ticking his head at Jonah, he asked, “Who are you?”
Flicking his gaze to me, then to Owen, Jonah puffed out his chest and took a step forward. “I’m a hockey player, left winger for the Devils. Who are you?”
“I’m Ryan’s boyfriend.” Flashing a smile, he held out his hand to Jonah.
“B-boyfriend?” While shaking Owen’s hand, Jonah twisted his lips and peered at me.
I dipped my head and shifted away from Owen. He wasn’t trying to lay claim, he was laying claim. “He’s not, uh?—”
“We’ve been going out since New Year’s Eve.” Owen gave me a knowing grin. “Haven’t we?”
“We met on New Year’s Eve, but…” Hanging my head, I planted my hands on my hips. Shit, did it really matter? I could probably correct this whole thing later. Better to not make a scene in the bar in front of them all. I faced Jonah. “Anyway, what are you all doing here? Do you come here after every win?” Maybe it was a superstition thing with them.
“Naw, just sometimes.” Jonah scratched the back of his head and then glanced behind him.
I stole a peek at his friends. Mason beamed back at me, a shit-eating grin on his face, then flapped his fingers our way. What was that about?
Rolling his eyes, Jonah dragged his gaze to mine. “Don’t mind them. Mason’s an idiot.”
“I see.” I chuckled. Clearly, Mason knew about Jonah’s interest in me.
“Why don’t you both come and join us?” Jonah peered at Owen, the hint of a snarl curling one corner of his lip. “We can have a little late celly.”
“Oh no, we couldn’t intrude on your…” Owen eyed Jonah up and down. “Little soiree. ”
“Why don’t you let him decide?” Jonah stepped closer to Owen, until their chests almost touched, Jonah standing a few inches taller than Owen.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I slid my hand between them and pushed on Jonah’s chest. “You guys go and enjoy yourselves tonight. You deserve it.” This was exactly what I didn’t want to happen.
Clenching his jaw, Jonah narrowed his eyes at me. “You sure?” He brushed his fingers over mine, resting at my side.
Tingling played up my arm. He was giving me a sign. He was concerned about me. I met his gaze head-on. “Yeah, I’ll be fine here.”
Jonah’s gaze stayed glued to mine for a beat, then he stepped backward and smiled. “Okay, but we’ll be right over there if you change your mind.” As he twisted to leave, he tossed a quick glare at Owen.
Owen lifted his chin, offering a satisfied smile back at him.
I huffed and faced the bar, planting both my elbows on it, then scrubbed my face. I didn’t normally mind having two guys fighting over me, but this was awkward as fuck.
A warm hand rested on my shoulder and Owen came in close. “You came here to be with me. You’ve already spent all night with those guys.”
Keeping my gaze affixed to the blackboard behind the bar, I said, “But those guys are my players.” I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. It wasn’t fun. I wasn’t letting off steam like I needed to.
I snuck a glance toward the players, some laughing, others making obvious eyes at some of the men cruising the bar. Would Jonah find a hookup tonight? My gut clenched. Looking like that, he certainly would. My attention shifted to Jonah.
He stared back at me, his lips pressed into a thin line, then he sipped from a beer bottle.
Owen scoffed. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.” Grabbing my elbow, he hauled me from the bar and across the dancefloor, winding through gyrating men to the other side of the room .
Was Jonah planning on watching me all night? He’d obviously sensed something was off with Owen. Or had he sensed my unease with the situation?
Owen dropped onto the end of a black velvet sofa backed up against a wall, then pulled me down next to him.
The men across from us on a matching sofa kissed and fondled each other under their open zippers.
I watched them for a moment. Normally, I’d find it hot. But not tonight, not when Owen was next to me and Jonah wasn’t. Fuck, I was a mess.
“Come on.” Grabbing my cheeks, Owen twisted my face to his. “Kiss me.” He leaned in, pressing his mouth to mine.
I forced my tongue between his lips, the taste of stale beer assaulting me. Leaning against him, I cupped his cheek in my hand and shoved all thoughts from my mind.
As his kisses grew heated, he slid his hand down my shirt and rubbed over my flaccid dick through my jeans.
“Stop.” As an unpleasant shiver wound up my spine, I flung his hand off me. I didn’t want him touching me. I couldn’t do this. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.” I hopped up, my knee twinging. Fuck, not now.
Owen rose up. “What’s wrong?” He lowered his brows. “Your players can’t see you from here if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I shot a glance toward the dancefloor. Could I still see Jonah?
Jonah danced with a man in the middle of the floor, his hands on the man’s hips as they ground on each other. He cut his gaze from the man’s face to me and pushed him away, then stalked toward me.
“Fuck, I’m out.” I couldn’t do this anymore. I had no idea what to say to either of them, and I damn well didn’t want to watch Jonah pick up some guy. I strode toward the door, pushing men aside as I went.
Owen shouted at my back, “Where are you going? You can’t leave. I won’t let you leave! ”
If Owen caught up to me, I might slug him. I glanced behind me. Jonah was almost reaching Owen. If Jonah got into it with either of us, fuck, I’d certainly blur the lines between player and coach. I wasn’t strong enough for this shit. After reaching the door, I raced down the stairs, two at a time. My fucking knee better not fail me now.
I took off running as soon as I hit the ground. I’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.