Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
JONAH
G lancing behind me, I followed Archer to our room and stepped inside after he opened the door, my heart thrumming in my throat. I’d almost kissed Ryan in the elevator. What would he have done if I had? Would he have kissed me back? He’d been so vulnerable with me in the bar. I needed that, needed him.
Archer twisted around at the foot of his bed and planted his hands on his hips. “What the hell happened?”
“Nothing.” I walked in and flopped down on my back on my bed, placing the heel of my hand on my forehead. “Okay, something.” It was okay if Archer knew. He was my best friend.
Archer climbed onto my bed and hovered over me, propping himself on straight arms on either side of my shoulders. “Spill.” His wavy blond hair flowed down around his face.
Flicking my gaze to his brown eyes, I said, “We talked in the bar, and he told me things about himself that I…” I pressed my lips together. “Fuck, we had a moment, okay?”
“A moment? With my coach?” He scoffed and sat back on his tucked legs. “Jonah, you’re going to get him in trouble.”
“No, I’m not.” I sat up on the bed and bent my legs at the knees. “He’s not my coach. I don’t think it would matter if we started seeing each other.” There, I’d said it.
“Are you crazy?” He dropped his mouth open, staring at me.
“Archer, we almost kissed in the elevator. Probably would have if you hadn’t interrupted us.” I scoffed and hopped off my bed, then paced the room, rubbing my chin. “Think about it. The problem with dating a coach is they have power over you, like if and when you get time in the game and all that. But he’s not technically my coach, so he doesn’t have that sort of power over me.”
“But he’s a hockey coach and we play hockey.” His gaze chased me as I walked back and forth. “You’ve let yourself crush on him for so long that now you can’t think straight.”
I stopped and looked at him. “I think I’m falling for him, Archer.” My chest ached. Yeah, no thinking about it. I was, especially after tonight.
“No, you’re infatuated with him, maybe obsessed.” He threw his legs off my bed and stood up, then strolled to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Jonah, it’s an infatuation. You’re not falling in love. You barely know the guy. And he’s a coach .” He looked me up and down. “Damn, I’ve known you since we were both ten. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I’ve never been more sure of someone in my life. I’ve never met anyone like him.” I rubbed my fingers over my aching chest. I had it bad. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” I’d never been in love before.
Wrinkling his brows, he wrapped his arms around me for a tight embrace. “Hey, you need to tone this down. Focus on the game and playing your best and put all this shit out of your head.”
“How? How do I do that exactly when he’ll be standing right behind me?” I buried my face in his neck, hooking my arms around his waist. My gut clenched. I couldn’t tone my feelings down, not now .
He brushed his hand over the back of my hair. “I don’t know. Maybe pretend he’s not there.”
“If it were Leo, would you be able to pretend he’s not there?” He had to know how impossible it was. I tightened my grip on him. I might be setting myself up for a world of hurt.
“No, guess not.” He kissed the side of my head. “I wish I knew the answer for you. Maybe you need to stay away from him. Don’t go looking for him like you did tonight.”
I pushed him away and gazed into his eyes. “I didn’t?—”
“Yes, you did. I’m not stupid.” He curled the edge of his mouth.
Heat crawled into my cheeks. He had my number. “Yeah, I overheard him telling Coach Patterson he was getting a nightcap in the bar.”
“So, stop doing that. Leave the guy alone. If he’s interested, he’ll come to you. Maybe after the season is over and you’re getting scouted?” He patted my shoulder.
“Yeah, we’ll see.” With a long sigh, I headed toward the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed.” I knew what I had to do. But could I do it?
The next night, we’d beaten Colorado three to zero and Coach had given us a night to ourselves before the long ride home tomorrow. I sat on the bus in a seat next to Archer and a few rows down from Ryan, watching the back of his head. We’d barely made eye contact the whole night. What was he thinking after last night? Ryan had beelined it for a seat next to my coach as soon as the bus had gotten to the rink.
“Hey, you played well tonight.” Archer backhanded my thigh while looking into his phone. “Want to order pizza and get drinks in the lobby bar with everyone?”
“Who’s everyone?” If it was basically the whole team, I might not be up for it. And if Ryan was there…what the hell should I do?
“Just us, the squad. I think the other guys who are of age are going to Uber to some club a few miles away.” He glanced out the window a moment at the darkness and streetlights passing us by. “None of us has any idea if there’s a gay bar around here or what that would be like. So we thought we’d stay in. Then we can be ourselves.”
“Yeah, okay.” I snuck a peek at Ryan. What would he be doing tonight? “Do you think Coach Gibson will be there?”
He cut his gaze to mine. “No idea what the coaches are doing. I’m sure they’ll be going over game footage or relaxing themselves.”
“Yeah?” I chewed my lower lip. “Okay.” I gazed out the window at our hotel, a newer colonial-style building resting between saplings.
The bus pulled up to the front of the building and stopped.
Ryan and Coach Finley stood. Coach Finley looked down all the rows. “All right, boys, have a good night and no one get in trouble.” His gaze found mine, then he turned around and exited the bus with Ryan following.
I wanted to see what Ryan was doing tonight. I hopped from my seat, grabbed my duffel from the overhead bin, and shuffled past the guys.
“Jonah, what are you doing?” Archer called out, stuck behind Coach Patterson and Ace.
“Nothing, I’ll see you in there.” Jumping down the stairs, I jogged to Ryan and Finley, chatting about the game.
Ryan glanced back at me and pursed his lips, his suit hugging his body in all the right places.
“So, uh, what are the coaches doing tonight? You guys going over game footage?” I slung the strap of my duffel over my shoulder. I probably looked desperate, but then, I was.
“Yes, Boehm. We still have work to do.” Coach Finley scoffed and kept walking .
I slowed my pace, hanging my head. There wasn’t going to be a repeat of last night. Except, maybe at some point, would Ryan come down to the lobby bar? I hurried to them again. “We’re hanging out in the lobby bar if you want to come down when you’re done. Maybe you can tell us?—”
“We’ll see.” Coach Finley stopped and turned around, then smirked. “This is a different side of you, Boehm. Usually, your only mission after a win is to go have drinks with your buddies.”
I glanced at Ryan, who was knitting his brows and watching me. “Yeah, well…” I didn’t have a comeback for that.
As they continued on to the hotel, I stopped and waited for Archer and Ace. Ryan knew where I’d be now, and hopefully, he’d come looking for me.
After two hours in the hotel bar, eating pizza and drinking beer with the guys, everyone decided it was time for bed. We were all seated in the same lounge chairs I’d sat in last night with Ryan and we’d pushed some tables together.
While Myles and Tyler stood, Ace downed his last beer and narrowed his eyes at me. “You going to get another one, or are you heading up too?”
“I’m um…” I scanned the lobby outside our tables. There was no sign of Ryan. My heart deflated. Maybe I’d score a seat next to him on the bus ride home? “I guess I’ll head up.”
Archer stood and frowned at me. “Come on.” He tagged my shoulder.
“Okay.” I hopped up and walked with the guys toward the elevator.
Myles hit the call button and it dinged.
We all piled in.
I stood in the back corner, wrangling my hands together. Why hadn’t Ryan come down? Maybe I was way off. Maybe there was and never would be anything between us .
As the elevator dinged for our floor, all the guys stepped out.
I stayed. Maybe Ryan was late, and he was down there now?
Archer held the door open. “Hey, you coming, or what?”
Everyone turned around, Ace furrowing his brows. “Dude, what’s up with you? You’ve been quiet all night.”
Mason chuckled. “Probably because he didn’t have Coach Hot Stuff to sit next to.”
“Jonah…” Archer tsked and shook his head. “Come with us. He’s not down there.”
“I know. I just need to clear my head with a quick walk. I’ll be back up here in no time.” I saluted them.
With a long exhale, Archer said, “Fine.” He freed the doors and they shut.
I stabbed the button for the first floor. Maybe I’d get lucky. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open again.
Stepping out, my gaze snapped to the lobby bar, and I examined all the chairs, my pulse picking up, then the bar itself. Only a few couples laughed and chatted with each other.
Okay, so maybe he was on his way down. I strode to the tables we’d been sitting at earlier and fell into a chair, then scanned around me. Should I have another beer? Then I wouldn’t look stupid just sitting here. Or obvious.
Our waiter stopped at the table. “Did you forget something?” He eyed me.
“No, uh, I’ll take another beer, please.” I tapped my fingers on the table and watched a couple enter the elevator.
“Sure.” He sauntered off and returned with my beer. He set it down, and I paid him.
Sipping my beer, I fished my phone out of the pocket of my sweats and set it on the table. As I propped my elbow on the table and my cheek in my palm, I tapped open Instagram and found Ryan’s account. A few new photos were there of him on the ice with some of his D-men, including Archer and Tyler. I didn’t remember seeing them take those shots, but whatever.
I scrolled some more, then found a photo of Ryan and Laurent in a park. It had been summertime, judging by the leaves on the trees behind them and the sunshine. Laurent was tagged in the caption, so of course, I had to click on it and stalk him too. I took a few gulps of beer.
A few photos emerged of Laurent at posh-looking parties with an older man. Had Laurent left Ryan for an older guy? Was he looking for someone to take care of him financially? Or maybe he was looking for a daddy? I drank more beer down. Shit, I had no idea what these guys were into.
I scrolled through more photos, finding some of Laurent with Ryan farther down. Shit, how long had I been looking at these? As I downed the rest of my beer, I peered at the time in the corner of my phone. An hour had passed.
“Come on, Jonah. He’s not coming. Let’s go to bed.” Archer stood in front of me, his hands on his hips.
Heat flooded my face. Shit, I was an idiot. With a scoff, I stood and ambled to him.
“I’m sorry, man.” Archer draped an arm over my shoulders and walked me toward the elevator. “I’m sure he’s busy tonight.” He blew out a breath. “Or maybe he’s tired and already in bed.”
“Yeah.” Tightness wound through my chest. Or maybe this was his way of letting me know he wasn’t interested.
The next morning, we’d stowed our gear under the bus, and I waited in line with only my laptop bag to get in behind Ace and Mason. I peeked up at the clouds hanging heavy in the sky. It was probably going to snow here today. Ryan hadn’t come down for breakfast, so I assumed he’d gone out somewhere else or had taken it in his room. Was he seriously avoiding me?
Ryan walked around the front end of the bus with his counterpart, Coach Hammett, and they both cut through the line to board .
Fuck, he never even looked at me. I balled up my cold hands, then held them to my mouth and blew hot hair over them.
“Cold? Aren’t you from Minnesota?” Mason snickered as he twisted around, then nodded his head at the bus. “Hey, you going to kick Coach Hammett out of his seat to sit with Coach Hot Stuff?”
“Leave him alone.” Ace backhanded Mason’s shoulder.
“Ow, fucker.” Rubbing his shoulder, Mason threw Ace a glare. “I’m only teasing, and he knows it.”
Ace’s gaze swung to mine. “Yeah, but it’s not nice to kick someone when he’s down.” He squeezed my forearm.
“What, did Archer talk to you?” I glanced behind me.
Archer was on his cell phone, a wide smile on his face. He was probably talking to Leo. The guy was a lucky fucker.
“Yeah.” Ace lumbered forward in the line and slapped Mason in the ass. “Get a move on. I thought you were quick?”
“Dude, don’t spank me when the other guys are around.” He fluttered his lashes at Ace.
“Moron.” Ace rolled his eyes.
A soft chuckle rumbled in my chest. These two were making me feel better, as usual. I followed them onto the bus and up the stairs and my gaze caught on Ryan in a window seat next to Coach Hammett, their laptops and papers on the seat between them.
I couldn’t fault him for getting some work done on the way home. Hammett probably had some players he wanted Ryan to look at. I stepped down the center aisle, fixated on Ryan.
He snapped his gaze to mine for a beat, then shifted and looked out the window, clearing his throat.
Fuck, that wasn’t a good sign. Slumping my shoulders, I passed Ace and Mason, who were arguing over something stupid, and found an empty seat toward the back and slid in. Hopefully, Archer would come sit with me. Though I didn’t want to talk about Ryan anymore. In fact, I should probably get some studying done. I zipped open my bag and tugged out my laptop.
Archer strolled up to my seat. “Want company?”
“Yeah, sure.” I squished back in my seat and let him by, then set my bag under the chair in front of me and opened my laptop.
“Studying?” He tucked his bag by his feet.
“Yeah, for now.” Hopefully it would take my mind off the confusing situation with Ryan.
Almost a whole week had passed, and it was Saturday night. We were enjoying a second hard-fought win against Stonehill, a college in Maryland. Coach Gibson had successfully ignored me all week and at the games and I was pretty sure any spark between us was gone. At least on his end. For me, they were still a burning ember ready to ignite at any moment. I couldn’t just shut off my feelings for the guy.
I followed Ace and Mason up the metal stairs at The Club on Mill. We were the only squad members wanting to either hook up or, in my case, forget somebody. Archer was having his usual date night with Leo.
As I rounded the top of the stairs, I caught my reflection in the glass door to the club. I was looking fine tonight in a sheer white shirt and my most form-fitting jeans. As I showed my ID to the bouncer, I unbuttoned my shirt down to my navel. Yeah, I was showing it all off tonight.
Mason bounced up beside me. “You are hot tonight, Jonah.” He flashed his ID at the bouncer.
“Yeah? Thank you, Mason.” Grabbing his hand, I strutted into the club with him, the thumping music and flashing lights filling the air around us.
Ace followed behind and wedged his way between us, planting a hand on both our shoulders. “You two look like you’re together. Is that the vibe you want to be putting out tonight?” He chortled.
“Fuck no, I’m here to get laid.” Mason tore his hand free from mine.
“It’s easier to find a guy when you’re taken.” I released a sharp laugh. “Just sayin’.” I sauntered up to the bar with Mason on my left and Ace on my right, then perused the shots on the chalkboard behind the bar. “What are we starting off with tonight?”
“I say we go with the Fuck U of A tonight, even though we didn’t play them.” Ace pointed to the shot handwritten in neon green.
“Sounds good to me.” Mason’s smile widened. “Because Fuck U of A !” He lifted his fist in the air and pumped it.
“Dude, don’t get in a fight tonight. Okay?” Patting Mason’s forearm, I looked around us. There could be U of A students up here for the weekend. The university was only about a two-hour drive south of here in Tucson.
“Naw, tonight I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Mason sniggered.
“You’re a moron. Every night, you’re a moron.” Ace grabbed Mason up in a bear hug and lifted him off the floor, then kissed his cheek. “But my favorite moron.”
Shaking my head, I snickered. “Damn, you two.” I flagged down a bare-chested bartender. We needed our drinks and fast.
He sauntered to us, and we ordered our shots along with beers for each of us.
“I’ve got this round.” Mason fished his wallet out of his pocket and slid out a credit card.
“That would mean we’re having more than one shot.” I watched the bartender set our drinks down, then grab Mason’s card. I didn’t want to get too shitfaced tonight. I had studying to do tomorrow.
“That’s exactly what it means.” Mason snatched his shot off the bar and held it up. “To the win and the Frozen Four.”
Ace and I grabbed our shots, tapped them on Mason’s, and we all downed them. Fruity sweetness glided down my throat. I had no idea what was in this thing, but damn. One was enough.
As I set my empty shot glass on the bar, my gaze hit a dark head of hair at the corner of it. The dude looked like that Owen guy from behind. I narrowed my eyes at him. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to be back here. The guy was probably here cruising every weekend if he were queer. I mean, why wouldn’t he?
“What are you looking at?” Ace edged in beside me and looked toward the corner of the bar, sipping his beer.
The guy at the corner turned around, his gaze finding mine, then looked away.
Ticking my chin at him, I said, “That’s the guy Coach Gibson had a problem with.” I clenched my jaw as heat swirled my chest.
“Problem?” Ace cocked his head. “Shit, that’s the guy we both confronted the last time Coach was in here.”
“What’s going on?” Standing on his tip-toes, Mason glanced around the corner of the bar. “Is there someone who needs to be taught a lesson?” With a chortle, he peeked at me.
“No, no one is getting taught a lesson.” I huffed a laugh. We didn’t need Mason getting kicked out of the gay bar. Not so soon after getting here, anyway.
Ace faced me. “Did the guy do something fucked up to our coach?” He eyed me. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“What?” Mason stared at me, his mouth dropping open. “Who?”
Jesus, I hadn’t told these guys about my lunch with Coach Gibson. “Yeah, that guy down there, Owen, he sort of stalked Coach and he finally had to block him.” I scoffed. “Coach didn’t want to date him, and he wouldn’t listen. The dude even told me they were boyfriends when they weren’t.”
Both Ace and Mason swung their gazes to the corner of the bar .
Owen glanced at us, scowled, and then stomped off into the men milling about on the other side of the bar.
“Well, he knows we’re here.” I turned to the bar, planting my forearms on it and hanging my head. I was supposed to be forgetting about Gibson, not talking about him. I slugged down half my beer, then slapped Ace on the back. “Come on, let’s have that second shot.” I wagged my brows at Mason. I knew he’d be in.
“Oh, hell yes.” Mason bellied up to the bar.
An hour or so later, I stood at the bar, nursing my second beer while Ace and Mason were out grinding on guys on the dancefloor. None of the many hot men in this place had sparked my interest, not a single one. And it wasn’t like multiple men hadn’t come around looking for my attention. No, I was a sorry-ass motherfucker.
I tapped my fingers on my glass, then pursed my lips. Maybe I should go home. As I glanced at the door, a head of messy brown curls caught my attention. I peered at the man standing in front of the bouncer. A black crop top showed off his rippled abs and tight jeans formed around his perfect ass and muscled thighs. As my heart faltered, my eyes widened. “Holy shit. Ryan.” My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard.
He stepped into the bar, his gaze sweeping across it and stopping on me. He dropped his jaw open, then pursed his lips, his chest expanding as if taking a deep inhale.
What the fuck do I do? We have to at least acknowledge each other. I held up my palm and gave him a weak wave, then faced the bar. What an imbecile I was. Now that he knew I was here, he’d probably turn around and leave. Which is probably what I should do too. This night was a bust.
“Hey, Jonah.” A warm hand landed on my shoulder.
I twisted toward his voice. “Hi, uh, Coach Gibson.” Pressing my lips together, I snuck a peek at his gorgeous light-blue eyes. He totally did not look like a hockey coach right now. Jock, yes, but not the hockey coach I’d just seen at our game tonight.
“Who are you here with?” He looked around the bar.
“Ace and Mason.” I pointed toward the dancefloor. “They’re out there with some guys they’re probably going to hook up with tonight.” And here I was…alone. My gut clenched.
“Oh, okay. Well, see you around, eh?” He patted my back, then strolled off to the other side of the bar.
I watched his tight ass swaying in his jeans as he left, my heart aching in my chest.
With a grimace, I hung my head. Fuck, this was stupid. I couldn’t stay here knowing Ryan was here, knowing some guy was going to have him when I couldn’t. He made it very clear there was nothing between us. I lifted my head.
Owen strode across the bar and grabbed Ryan by the elbow. Leaning in, he tugged on him.
Ryan wriggled his arm, his back stiffening.
What the fuck? I glanced toward Ace. He’d see me if I went over there and needed him. The guy had the eyesight of a fucking hawk. Slamming down the rest of my beer, I left the bar, trudging across the floor toward Ryan and Owen.
Ryan slumped his shoulders, glanced around him, then nodded at Owen.
Dragging Ryan by the arm toward the restrooms in the hallway, a snide smile swept over Owen’s lips.
“That fucker.” Heat swarmed my chest. I was not going to let this happen, whatever it was. As I weaved through men, bumping a few of them and apologizing along the way, fixating on the entrance to the hallway.
I stomped around the corner.
Ryan’s chest was pinned against the wall, his legs spread, yelling, “Stop!”
“No one ditches me like that,” Owen snarled. With his arm across the back of Ryan’s neck, he fell in close and ripped at Ryan’s fly.
I growled, “Get the fuck off him.” Seeing red, I tore Owen from Ryan and threw him.
Owen’s back slammed against the far wall and his head hit with a crack. “Fuck.” As he grabbed the back of his head and his glare locked on mine, he said, “Get the fuck out of here, asshole.”
“Oh, hell no.” I swung back with my fist and landed it square on Owen’s jaw. “You don’t pick fights with hockey players.”
Owen’s head jerked to the side, and he dropped to his knees. “Fuck!” He rubbed his jaw, then looked up at me, blood dripping from his lip.
“You want some more?” I held up my fist and jumped on my toes. Should I hit him again or kick the fucker?
“No, no, man.” He held up his palm to me, then slowly stood. “You can have him.” Shaking his head, he stumbled into the bar.
My gaze swept to Ryan, who was leaning his back against the wall, his head hanging.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, pulling his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them.
Jesus, he looked bad. What the fuck did Owen think he was doing? I crouched down beside him. “I’m fucking glad I was here.” I hooked my arms around him and hauled him into my chest, breathing in his fragrant shampoo, flowery and spicy at the same time. God, he smelled good, felt so fucking good in my arms. I brushed my hand over the soft curls of his hair, my whole body tingling with sparks.
He nuzzled my neck. “Thank you.” Inching closer into my side, he lifted his head, then grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine.
An explosion of emotion unleashed inside me, and I parted my lips, thrusting my tongue inside his mouth, tasting him fully, my cock hardening in an instant. I cupped his cheek and slanted my mouth over his, our kisses growing needy.
A soft moan rumbled out of him, and he shifted on the floor, dropping his knees to the side, clutching the back of my hair, the hunger in his kisses matching mine.
After a few moments, he broke the kisses and pressed his forehead to mine, panting, his fingers still threaded in my hair. “Holy shit, I needed that.”
My chest heaved with deep breaths. “Yeah?” I wetted my lips. Had I been wrong this whole time? Had he been struggling the same way I had? “Ryan…”
He lifted his head and gazed deeply into my eyes. “Yeah?” His gaze dipped to my mouth, then snapped back up. “I want to kiss you again.” He adjusted himself.
Peeking down, heat sparked low in my belly. His hard, brief-covered dick poked out of the open fly on his jeans.
Oh, sweet Jesus, he had a nice fucking cock. Even outlined in fabric, it was thick and mouthwatering. “Then do it. Kiss me again.” I pressed my lips to his and claimed him, then slid my hand down his shirt, over the ripples of his abs and under his briefs, wrapping my hand around his solid shaft and stroking.
With a whimper, he shuddered in my arms and tipped his head back, his brows tensing and mouth dropping open. “Fuck, not here.” He slapped his hand over mine, stopping it.
“Then where?” My balls ached. There was no way in hell this was ending now. He wanted me, and I…I more than wanted him.
“My place?” His throat dipped with a hard swallow and his gaze darted between my eyes. “It’s only a few blocks?—”
“Fuck yes.” I stood, hefting him up with me. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to think about it. I’d text Ace and Mason later, though I doubt they’d be worried about me if they saw me leaving with Ryan.