CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was the wee hours of the morning when Connor finally staggered through his front door with Jesse on his heels.
They’d lost to Calgary that afternoon and Jesse had been quiet on the flight home. He’d taken the back-to-back losses hard and Connor wasn’t sure what to do to help him.
Neither of them had spoken much on the drive home from the airport and all Connor wanted to do was collapse in his bed.
But he hated the look on Jesse’s face, the lack of spark in his eyes.
When they reached the second floor and Jesse stopped in the hallway in front of his bedroom door, Connor settled a hand on his back. “Hey. You wanna sleep upstairs with me?”
Jesse turned, lips parted, surprise written all over his face. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Connor gave him a little shrug. “I mean, I’m too tired to do much of anything right now, but I thought maybe in the morning …”
Hoyt had pushed practice back by a few hours, so they’d have time.
“Sure,” Jesse said, clearly still exhausted but now the corners of his mouth no longer drooped down, which Connor would call a win.
“C’mon. Leave your suitcase in your room and come upstairs with me.” Connor held out a hand.
Jesse wheeled the bag into the room, tossed his carry-on onto the bed, then took Connor’s hand. He trailed after Connor, weirdly quiet and obedient, which only worried Connor more.
In the primary bedroom, Connor turned on the lamp beside the wide bed. Jesse eyeballed it like he was about to faceplant on it, so Connor put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, you gotta get ready for bed.”
Jesse grumbled, but allowed Connor to steer him to the bathroom. He took the spare toothbrush Connor offered, slumping against the vanity as he brushed.
When Connor was done with his own teeth, he hesitated. “Do you wanna shower, or no?”
Jesse shook his head, spat, then raised an arm and sniffed under it. “Nah. I’m not too rank.”
Connor snorted quietly. “Well, that really makes me want you in my bed.”
Jesse managed a half-hearted shrug. “I can always go downstairs if you’ve changed your mind …”
“Nope. You’re sleeping up here tonight.”
When they were done in the bathroom, Connor offered Jesse a T-shirt and boxer briefs. He stripped, leaving his clothing in a pile on the floor.
Connor didn’t even argue, though he did toss them on the small bench below the window, next to his own. He’d worry about them in the morning.
Dressed in Connor’s clothing, Jesse burrowed under the covers, eyes already half-closed.
Connor plugged in his phone, belatedly thought of Jesse’s, found it in his clothes, then located a spare charging cable and plugged that in too.
Jesse muttered a sleepy “thank you” that made Connor smile.
Connor slid in beside him, turned out the light, then hesitated, staring up at the dark ceiling. Did Jesse want comfort or not? They’d slept beside each other a handful of times now, but it had always been after sex. He wasn’t sure what the rules were now.
But Jesse let out a sleepy mumble, rolled over to face Connor, then mashed his head into the crook of Connor’s neck.
Smiling, Connor wrapped an arm around him, closed his eyes, and let the sound of Jesse’s soft breathing lull him to sleep.
Connor awoke to the sound of a door closing.
The sound had come from downstairs and he blinked sleepily, confused.
Jesse was nowhere to be found and he wondered if he’d left for some reason. Weird, but maybe he had a meeting he hadn’t let Connor know about or maybe he’d gone to grab breakfast or something—Connor didn’t have much in the fridge. He hadn’t wanted it to go bad while they were on the road.
With a shrug, Connor got out of bed. A glance at his phone told him he still had time before practice, so he showered quickly, belatedly noticing the damp towel hanging on the bar. Hmm, so Jesse had showered in here.
Too bad he hadn’t woken Connor or they could have done it together. He was quickly getting addicted to the feel of Jesse’s wet, slippery body against his. Hell, he was getting addicted to the feel of having Jesse around, period.
Connor dressed in team sweats, then jogged downstairs. On the second floor, Jesse’s bedroom door was still open, his bags unpacked and put away.
Huh. How long had he been awake?
On the first floor, Connor found Jesse in the kitchen, staring out the window, his breakfast barely touched.
“Uhh, hey,” Connor said. “Did I hear someone at the door a bit ago?”
Jesse blinked, turning to face him. “Yeah. Nolan forgot something for school.”
“Fuck.” Connor ran a hand through his hair. “What did you tell him?”
“That you were asleep?”
“Did he know you stayed up there?”
Jesse laughed. “No. Of course not. Why would I tell him that? Honestly, how stupid do you think I am? Besides, Viv was here and I wasn’t about to?—”
“Jesus.” Connor felt shaky. His son and his ex-wife had been in his house while he’d been asleep. What if they’d gotten here earlier while Jesse was still in his bed? What if they’d needed to speak to Connor? What if there had been an emergency ?
“Dude, chill,” Jesse said. “I can see you freaking out from here but it’s fine .”
“Is it?” Connor asked weakly, dropping onto the kitchen stool next to Jesse. “I don’t know. This is getting … complicated. Graham nearly caught us at the hotel and now this …”
Jesse rolled his eyes and got up. He walked over to a pan on the stove and took off the lid, piling some of the food onto a plate. “Here. You’ll feel better once you eat.”
Annoyingly, Connor did.
But even while they cleaned the kitchen together, Connor couldn’t fully push away the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he wondered if it would be better if they ended this.
They’d gotten away with it this time. But would they be as lucky the next?
“Hey,” Jesse said softly when Connor slipped on shoes and a jacket to go to practice. “Do you want to stop what we’re doing?”
Throat weirdly thick, Connor shook his head. “No,” he managed.
Jesse stepped forward, pressing his forehead to Connor’s. “Good,” he whispered. “Good. I don’t either.”
“Alright,” Darryl Schultz said, raising his voice. The babble of noise died down and Jesse shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. “We’ve got a home game against Dallas tomorrow and we have video to review. I’m gonna need you all to focus.”
Jesse tried to focus while he listened to their video coach review footage from the games in Edmonton and Calgary but thoughts kept circling in his head. He couldn’t help but feel both losses had been his fault.
If he hadn’t let in those goals …
“Webber,” Schultz called.
Jesse straightened in his seat. “Yes?”
“I like what you did here. You were anticipating the shot. Good forethought, good reaction time. You got a piece of it and I like that. Clayton, do you see where you failed your netminder here?”
Tanner, sitting to Jesse’s right, grimaced. “Yes.”
“Break it down for me.”
Schultz was brutal. He didn’t just call out players for their mistakes, he made the guys identify them. It was awful and clever at once, and Jesse was grudgingly appreciative.
“I shouldn’t have gone below the goal line, because it left the shooter uncovered. I was too far back to get to him in time.”
“Exactly!” Schultz said. “And that goes for you too, Crawford. Two D behind the goal leaves it completely open, while Webber’s scrambling to make up for your bad positioning. It’s sloppy defending and it’s giving our opponents way too many scoring chances. Dallas will ruthlessly exploit that in tomorrow’s game unless you clean it up.”
On the other hand, Schultz wasn’t stingy with his praise. Neither was their head coach. If a guy did well, then Hoyt let them know it. He was straightforward too. No mind games like Gilly had enjoyed playing.
A few minutes later, Schultz did call Jesse out for being way too far out of his crease, then followed it up with more feedback for the defensemen who, once again, had been in the wrong position.
But on the whole, Jesse left the video room feeling better about his play than he had when he walked in. There were things he’d done wrong and things he could work on, but it wasn’t all on him like it had felt for a while.
And sure, the guys had told him it wasn’t his fault in the locker room after the games when he’d sat there in his gear, sweat-soaked and defeated. But sometimes it took seeing it on the screen and having it broken down to give him the perspective he needed.
Jesse was going to have to get used to playing for a team with weaker defense. They were working on it, but they didn’t have guys like Jonah Brewer, Felix Hale, Matty Carlson, and Nico Arents playing for them. Tanner would be good someday, but he was still learning.
Boston didn’t have the depth Toronto did and building that would take time.
Jesse had turned toward the workout room when he was stopped in his tracks.
He turned to see Connor, who had grabbed his arm. “Hey. I’ve got a meeting with Racine later this afternoon. You wanna stick around here or find a ride home?”
Jesse glanced at the time on his phone. “I’ve got some work to do with Foley and Crane but I’ll be done in a couple of hours. Do you think you’ll be ready before then?”
Connor grimaced. “Probably not.”
“Then I’ll find a ride home.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah, you’re fine.” Jesse waved it off. “You want me to swing by the grocery store or anything?”
“No, Ma said she’d bring by some groceries when she drops the girls off.”
“Okay. Want me to start dinner once she does?”
Connor got a weird, grateful look on his face. “Would you? That would be a huge help. The recipe’s in the app.”
“Sure.” Jesse shrugged. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
“Aww,” Crawford cooed, draping his arms over both Jesse’s and Connor’s shoulders. “Aren’t you two adorably domestic?”
Annoyed, Jesse ducked out from the heavy weight of Crawford’s arm as Connor pushed him away too.
“Fuck off. Just because you can’t cook to save your fucking life,” Connor grumbled.
Crawford smirked. “Why bother when I can hire people?”
“Yeah, you probably hire them to suck your dick too,” Connor shot back. “It’s not like anyone else wants you.”
Nearby, Tanner cackled. “Sick burn, dude, you might need some aloe for that one.”
“Dude, I don’t have to pay for sex. Not like Jesse’s old teammate there.”
“Hey!” Jesse said, rounding on Crawford, pissed he’d brought up one of many scandals surrounding the Fisher Cats last season. It was one thing to chirp a guy, it was another to actually drag other people into it. “Those were rumors . Are you gonna believe all the bullshit posted on some shitty gossip site?”
Crawford raised an eyebrow. “They were true about you , weren’t they?”
“Uhh, no. Not all of them,” Jesse reminded him. Because there had been some wild stories about him this summer. Everything from the organization parting ways with him because he’d slept with the wife of one of the minority owners—who he’d never even met—to cocaine use—something he’d never tried.
“I’m just sayin’,” Crawford said, holding up his hands. “Sometimes they are true. And I for one happen to believe those.”
If Dom hadn’t retired, Crawford probably would’ve used those rumors against him in a game too. That was how Crawford had always played. A little mean. A little dirty.
He was a big-bodied defenseman, mediocre with actual talent, but plenty hard-working and skilled at getting under his opponents’ skin by any means necessary.
It was an effective approach, but not one Jesse particularly liked. He was still glad to have him on their team though. If the guy was playing in the league, better to have him on their side than go up against him.
“You’re jealous,” Jesse shot back. “In a year , Dominic Olsen earned what you will in your whole career.”
To his surprise, Crawford nodded. “You’re not wrong there. Guess that’s why he could afford the high-end escorts.”
Damn it, Jesse had totally walked into that one. He crossed his arms. “Look, I have better things to do than hang out here arguing about my former teammate’s private life. I know the truth.”
Which was that Dom had met his partner through an escort service.
Jesse honestly didn’t care. He liked Shea Barnett. Liked him for Dom especially and found all the pearl-clutching about his former profession stupid.
“Better things like cooking dinner for your captain and his kids?”
“That’s better than talking to you,” Jesse fired back. “And maybe you should be spending your time on the ice learning how to actually defend the net so I don’t have to save your ass every time.”
Crawford laughed again. “I like you, Webber.”
“Yeah, I like me too. I mean, what’s not to like?”
He turned before Crawford could respond, and disappeared into the workout area for some one-on-one work with the goaltending coach, Danny Foley.
“Dude, what was that about?” Connor asked, frowning at Crawford.
He shrugged. “Nothing, just wanted to see how much it took to wind Webby up.”
“Why are you trying to wind up the only guy on the fucking team who seemed to have his shit together in the past two games?”
“It’s fun?”
Connor rolled his eyes. “You need to get a life, Crawford.”
“Hey, I have a life.”
“Hockey, Harleys, and … women aren’t a life.”
Crawford laughed. “Yeah, like whatever you’ve got going on is so fucking great.”
Connor shrugged. “I’ve got my kids, I’ve got a great sex life … things are looking pretty good for me, actually. And if you could learn how to defend the fucking net, Jesse might actually get this goddamn team somewhere this season.”
Crawford made a scoffing noise, but Connor slapped him on the back. “C’mon, man. Let’s get our workouts in.”
Twenty minutes later, as Connor sweated on the stationary bike, he wished he could say regular sex with Jesse helped make him immune to Jesse’s presence while he was working out, but that would be a lie.
Jesse was doing hand-eye coordination drills with Danny Foley on the far side of the room.
Jesse stood with his back to Connor, in an upright, bent-knee position, ass stuck out and on display in his skintight leggings and shirt. He was about ten feet away from the wall and Danny was about the same distance behind him. Danny threw a reaction ball—a weird, bumpy ball designed to bounce erratically in weird directions—past him at the wall and Jesse had to catch it.
Connor could see why it was a challenge and why it was good training for Jesse. The ball’s trajectory was nearly impossible to predict when it shot off the wall and back toward him. Jesse had to shuffle side to side or lunge to catch it sometimes.
They’d only been going at it for a little while and his back was already drenched in sweat.
The dark fabric clung to his body, especially along his upper back, and Connor could see every flex of his muscles, every shift and bend and dip. But it wasn’t just the appeal of looking at a fit man in tight clothing that appealed.
It was the athleticism, the skill.
It was his sheer stubborn determination to keep going, even when Connor could see him growing more and more frustrated with every bad bounce. With every catch he missed.
It was the way he’d sometimes take a break, walking around for a moment to shake it off before returning, a fierce scowl on his face as he dialed in his focus once again.
Connor liked that about him.
He liked that Jesse never seemed to throw in the towel and give up. That was what they needed, what the team had been lacking. That tenacity.
And maybe Connor felt like Jesse was what he needed. What he’d been lacking in his life.
“Yo, you planning to train for the Tour de France there, Lance Armstrong?”
Connor blinked when Bobby Tucker’s face came into focus. “Huh?”
“You’re cycling like you’re training for a fucking marathon, dude.”
“Oh.” Connor glanced down, realizing he was cycling a lot harder and faster than he’d intended. He slowed a little, feeling the screaming agony in his thighs from the lactic acid buildup. “Fuck.”
“You okay there?”
“Ask me tomorrow,” Connor said grimly. He kept cycling for a few minutes, trying to slowly bring himself down. He staggered off the bike with a groan, then forced himself to take a few laps, rather than collapse on the mats like he wanted.
He found Leah Frye, one of the strength and conditioning coaches, who was working with one of the rookies lifting weights.
“Hey,” Connor said, shaking out one leg, then the other. “So I might have overdone it on the bike.”
Leah smirked. “I noticed. That’s why I asked Bobby to come over and snap you out of it. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I spaced out, I guess.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “That’s not like you. You sure you’re not trying to work out something that happened on the ice or at home?”
“Well, I wasn’t happy about our last couple of games,” Connor said slowly as he considered the idea, “but that’s not exactly anything unusual for this team lately.”
“And at home?”
“Everything’s pretty good actually. I’ll see the kids tonight. Things haven’t been too bad with my ex lately, Jesse’s settled into the household fine …”
“Yeah,” Crawford drawled as he walked by. “Jesse’s gonna be on the family Christmas card this year. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Love, Connor, Jesse, Nolan, Evie, and Maura O’Shea.”
“Fuck off,” Connor snapped back. “I don’t ever see you billeting rookies.”
Crawford gave him a skeptical look. “Do you really want rookies living with me?”
“No, definitely not,” Connor conceded before he turned back to face Leah, who had an amused smile lurking on her face. “Anyway, stuff at home is good.”
Jesse was settling in and the sex was great and Connor liked him. Hell, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, apparently.
Connor sucked in a breath. Oh . Oh shit .
He hadn’t acted like this about anyone since … since Viv.
He’d been in college the last time someone had consumed every thought that wasn’t about hockey. The last time he’d carried a happy, glowing feeling wherever he went, high on that person.
He’d chalked it up to the great sex but what if it wasn’t that?
What if it was more? What if he … what if he was falling for Jesse?
He glanced over at Jesse, who was laughing at something Danny said, eyes bright, skin pink and sweaty from his workout and … fuck .
This wasn’t what Connor wanted at all.
Jesse Fucking Webber. Sarcastic, smart-mouthed Jesse. Jesse the flirt. Jesse, who’d fucked half of Toronto and probably a good portion of North America.
Sure, he’d agreed to exclusivity, but probably only to appease Connor and because the head office had been concerned about his behavior. As soon as the season was up, as soon as they went their separate ways for the summer, what would happen then?
How did Connor really think this would go? That Jesse would decide he wanted to deal with Connor’s difficult relationship with his ex and his kids and everything that came with it?
That Jesse was gonna settle down? That was nuts!
Sure, he got along with Connor’s family. He fit in well with the kids and his parents and siblings and all of their craziness.
But so had Kip Smith.
Their former fourth line center had stayed with Connor for a few months after he joined the team last season. The kids loved him. They’d talked about Kippy all the time and had missed him terribly once he’d been traded away.
Yet he’d been nothing but a teammate and a friend to Connor.
Connor’s children liking Jesse didn’t mean a damn thing.
Connor liking Jesse didn’t mean a damn thing. It certainly didn’t mean he and Jesse had a romantic future.
In fact, Connor’s feelings were hellishly inconvenient and gonna cause him all sorts of problems he didn’t need.
“Connor,” Leah said, pulling his attention back. “I had a circuit training planned for you this afternoon but I want to modify it. I need you to get your head back in the game and focus for me, okay? I don’t want you to injure yourself because you’re off somewhere thinking about something else.”
Connor nodded, clearing his throat. “Got it, Coach. Head in the game.”
“Good.”
She ran through the specific moves she wanted him to do, giving him slightly longer recovery times than usual and going a little lighter on the squats.
Through sheer force of will, Connor kept his thoughts firmly planted on the workout. It helped that Jesse had left—probably heading into the other room to do some yoga and Pilates with Dakota.
After Connor was done with his workout and left the gym, Jesse walked out of the yoga studio. They passed in the hallway and Jesse gave him a friendly tap on the thigh when he passed.
“See you later,” he said with a bright grin, clearly unaware of the turmoil in Connor’s head.
“Later,” Connor echoed hoarsely.
Jesse shot him a funny look but kept walking, disappearing out the door.
Connor walked into the studio and over to Dakota, who was supervising a couple of guys’ workouts and said, “So, I, uh, might have overdone it on the bike and my thighs are screaming at me. You think we can focus more on upper body and core work today?”
Dakota grinned. “Yes, but you may regret you said that.”
Connor stifled a groan. So, he was gonna be hurting everywhere by the time he was done. Fantastic. He was too old for this shit.
ALL of this shit.