Third Period
ROWAN WOKE up to an unfamiliar ceiling and had a brief, half-panicked moment of wondering where he was.
Then he registered the muscle aches in his thighs, back, and shoulders, as well as the accompanying tenderness in his backside, and the night before flooded back to him.
So that happened. And it should happen again as soon as possible, or at least as soon as possible once Rowan had recovered enough that he could stand up without wincing.
The part that maybe should not have happened was when Rowan fell asleep in Jordy’s bed afterward. From the sunlight filtering past the curtains, it was still early enough that Kaira probably wasn’t awake, so he had time to get up and sneak out of Jordy’s room. Not that she would know any different, really; if he stole one of Jordy’s T-shirts and started walking around the house, there’d be no reason for her to suspect where he’d slept, and even if she did, it wasn’t like—
He stopped that train of thought. No sense borrowing more trouble than he already had.
So. Last night Jordy had fucked him into incoherence. In his bedroom. While Rowan wore his jersey. While Rowan used his jersey as a gag .
That felt… possessive, in a pleasant way Rowan didn’t want to interrogate but probably should.
It might not mean anything beyond the obvious—that Jordy liked pretending, in the heat of the moment, that the people he fucked belonged to him. Rowan could hardly fault him for that. He’d enjoyed the fantasy too. The evidence of that was all over Jordy’s jersey.
But last night had felt different from their previous encounters in other ways too. For one, it was the first time Jordy had kissed him while they fucked. It was the first time they’d done this in Jordy’s room and not in Rowan’s temporary quarters downstairs, and the first time they’d actually spent the night together. So… maybe it did mean something.
Hadn’t they agreed weeks ago that a physical relationship was all they could have, and a temporary one at that? Rowan was putting down roots in Toronto. Every day he looked forward to his job. His bank balance informed him that he could begin looking for his own place very soon. Not a nasty basement apartment either but a proper one-bedroom, maybe even one with a balcony. A place of his own that he could make his own—choose his furniture, paint his walls. Do his bathroom in a Parisian theme if he wanted.
And Jordy might get traded at any minute. Rowan understood that. That was a risk. But all relationships had risks. The person you loved could get hit by a bus, or turn out to be a serial killer. Or just an asshole. Rowan had dated enough of those.
And he was pretty sure Jordy wasn’t an asshole, and a serial killer wouldn’t have invited Rowan to live in his house and catch him.
Okay, now Rowan was going around his head in meaningless tangents to avoid coming to the conclusion that he had feelings for Jordy and maybe he should just… take the risk. Jordy might get traded—but he might not.
Did Rowan want to give up this life on a maybe?
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. First order of business was hauling himself out of bed.
He took his time stealing a T-shirt. Anything team-branded might inspire a repeat of last night, which normally he’d be in favor of, but if he wanted to have a serious conversation, neutral was better. He picked a plain black shirt and pulled on his jeans from the night before.
Jordy was in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar, hunched over a pad of paper. He had a coffee cup at his elbow, and he didn’t look up when Rowan entered. Lost in thought, apparently. Rowan allowed himself a moment to fantasize that Jordy was making a list of all the reasons they should throw caution to the wind and make their relationship something more than physical.
He stopped on his way to the pour-over set to press a kiss to Jordy’s cheek. “Morning. Kaira still in bed?”
“Mm. It’s a miracle.”
Rowan took down his favorite mug—God, he was an idiot; he had a favorite mug in Jordy’s house and he’d been telling himself he could avoid entanglement—and spent a moment going through the routine of filling it with life-giving caffeine. “Breakfast plans?” he asked. He wanted to get a feel for the morning schedule—Kaira was still in bed now , but that could change anytime. When was the best window for this conversation?
“No, I’m just—” A sigh.
Rowan turned around.
Jordy still had his head down to stare at his piece of paper, but after a moment he looked up. “Distracted.”
Rowan was a light sleeper. He knew for a fact Jordy hadn’t spent last night tossing and turning, because he’d have woken up. So the dark circles under his eyes were not from lack of sleep.
So something else was bothering him. Rowan knocked back half his mug—it looked like he’d need it—and braced himself. “What’s going on?”
“My agent called this morning.”
At ass o’clock on a Sunday? Rowan put down the mug and placed his hands on the counter for support. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “That sounds ominous.”
“Yeah. It’s—it could end up being nothing. But….”
“But,” Rowan repeated.
Jordy dropped the pen. He flexed his fingers a few times and then stretched out his arm toward Rowan, almost like he wanted to take his hand. He pulled it back before he could. “The team asked for my list.”
“Your list.” Rowan sounded like a stunned parrot. He forced his mouth to shape meaningful words this time. “I’m assuming this isn’t a list of groceries or top-ten Toronto nightclubs.”
Jordy didn’t laugh. “It’s a list of teams they can’t trade me to.”
Did that mean what it sounded like? Rowan shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Jordy’s serious, pinched mouth suggested otherwise. “I’m guessing this isn’t a routine thing.”
“It is when you’re looking to trade someone.” He rubbed his brow. “They might be looking at options, and they might be shopping around me and other defensemen hoping to sell one of us for more forwards. So it could all come to nothing. But the rumors aren’t wrong. It makes sense to trade me over most other guys.”
“Do—” Rowan cleared his throat. He just had something caught in it, was all. And not emotions. “Do you think you’ll get traded?”
Jordy sighed. “Honestly? They don’t need me as much as they need kids who can get the puck in the net.”
“But they sent you to New York,” Rowan argued, floundering. How could a team spend so much on a player when they wanted him gone?
“They also sent Brady. And they could have had a million reasons to send me that weren’t about me being a billboard face or a good defenseman.”
“Like?”
“Like proving my capital to other teams.”
Which was an especially mercenary view of things, but also probably not the worst thing sports management had ever done in the name of bettering their team.
“How long?”
That got another unhappy sigh. “Who knows? It could be tomorrow or it could be never. Just because Toronto wants to offload me doesn’t mean other teams will want me.”
Before Rowan could open his mouth and say something totally sincere and epically stupid, like “Who wouldn’t want you?” Kaira walked into the kitchen and saved Rowan from himself.
Jordy flipped over his notepad, shot Rowan a pleading look that managed to convey Please don’t say anything to my child , and brightly asked what she wanted for breakfast.
Rowan stood frozen while Jordy put on a brave face and found food for his daughter, because the idea of the trade wasn’t some unknown specter now but a full-on apparition sitting at the breakfast table, waiting to ruin their cute little domestic scene. Rowan couldn’t confess anything now, couldn’t ask for anything when Jordy might be in Florida by the end of the week. What was the point of asking for more when the shelf life was so brief?
Sure, they could do long distance, but long distance when Jordy was a single parent with a demanding job that had him on the road half the year? Jordy didn’t have time for long distance. In the past couple of weeks, Rowan had gotten a glimpse of what a relationship with a player would be like during the season. Between practices and games, there would be stretches where Rowan and Jordy would only be able to eke out stolen moments here and there. Just yesterday, before they went to bed together, they’d barely seen each other all day beyond quick meetings in the kitchen. If they lived apart, they wouldn’t have those moments, and Jordy probably wouldn’t even have time to chat with Rowan. He’d be too busy being a dad.
No, the ticking time bomb that was Jordy’s trade was a firm reminder that anything more was just a pipe dream.
Shield on the Move? Shaw Trade Rumors Abound
By Krista Eckhart
October 27
Trade whispers are echoing in the hallway outside the Toronto Shield front office.
Nothing is officially confirmed yet, but rumors persist that the Shield are entertaining—or even soliciting—trade offers, and one name keeps coming up: Jordan Shaw. A source within the Shield confirmed that Shaw, who has a limited no-move clause in his contract, was asked to provide his list of teams he cannot be traded to.
Despite being a fan favorite, a Norris Trophy winner, and an Olympian, Shaw is a good candidate for a trade. Shaw is a talented defenseman and a veteran with plenty of experience. He’s also thirty-two years old with steady numbers and two years remaining on his contract—years the Shield, with their 3–4–3 record so far this season, are unlikely to be Cup contenders.
No one wants to give up an All-Star talent, but the Shield aren’t in a position to put him to good use unless it’s a trade for a piece that will be ready when the Shield’s forward core hit the peaks of their careers. And plenty of teams are willing to pay for experienced defensemen, especially when it comes in the form of Jordan Shaw, who is well-known for his amiability and boring off-ice life. Expect several front offices to review Shaw’s résumé and check their AHL stables for anyone who could sweeten the pot for the Shield.
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WHEN THE season started, Jordy’s busy schedule only got busier.
Thankfully, Rowan’s and Kaira’s work/school routines were already established and getting more practiced, which meant that despite Jordy’s chaos, their day-to-day felt almost uninterrupted.
Almost.
Because of course Kaira had big feelings about the season starting and her dad being back at hockey. Rowan did his best to hear her and help her process those emotions, but even as he helped her find balance, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being Janice and for knowingly keeping a secret about even bigger changes to come.
Because no matter what, Daddy getting traded and moving them to another city—maybe even another country—and the finding of a new nanny? Well, that would probably inspire feelings that needed more than just a couple of heart-to-hearts.
Not that Jordy was getting any closer to hiring that new nanny, or if he was, he hadn’t told Rowan about it.
When he asked, back at the beginning of September, Jordy had admitted to having trouble finding applicants he wanted to interview. But when Rowan sorted through a stack of candidates and picked out a handful he thought were promising, Jordy had rejected them all.
“Okay, clearly I missed something. Tell me what’s wrong with these two so I can help better.”
“Which two?”
“Uh, let’s start with Allison.”
“She was a volunteer canvasser for Pierre Asshat,” Jordy said and shuddered.
“What?” Rowan flipped through her CV and wow, okay, yeah. She’d listed canvassing for a right-wing extremist. “How did I miss that?” He shook his head, then asked, “Don’t tell me Christine had the same problem.”
“No,” Jordy admitted slowly. “But her first-aid certificate is out of date.”
Rowan flipped through the paperwork. It had expired at the end of July. She probably just hadn’t updated her résumé. But it wasn’t as if he could just ask, That’s it? when this was Kaira’s life that might be at stake, so he accepted the feedback and kept wading through the CVs.
In his weaker moments, Rowan thought maybe Jordy just didn’t want to replace him because he was that amazing and Jordy wanted to keep him around. Of course, in his more realistic moments, he reasoned Jordy was a paranoid single dad who’d been just as ridiculous the first time around. After all, these were nannies through an agency. They’d already been vetted by someone else. It wasn’t like they were going to serve Kaira candy for dinner and let her drive the SUV. Jordy might not like them all, but surely some of them qualified for a conversation.
Whatever. It wasn’t Rowan’s problem. If Jordy wanted to drag his feet, let him. It was his kid. It wasn’t like this was affecting Rowan ’s life at all.
Rowan thought this last bit to himself rather sarcastically as he pulled up to the school’s aftercare program to pick up Kaira. Jordy had left yesterday morning on the first of many road trips. It just so happened that today also happened to be Rowan’s monthly staff meeting, which some arsehole had scheduled for half six on a Wednesday night.
“Hi, Rowan!” Kaira cheerfully kicked her feet as he buckled her into her car seat. “Can we have dino nuggets for dinner?”
Rowan tweaked her nose and reminded himself he was annoyed with Jordy, not her. “Sorry, poppet. We won’t be home for dinner tonight. How do McDonald’s nuggets sound instead?”
Jordy might not like it, but Jordy wasn’t here and Jordy hadn’t hired someone to help out, so Jordy could suck a lemon.
“With french fries ?”
“Of course with french fries.”
“Yay!”
Rowan maybe felt a little spiteful giving the McDonald’s drive-thru attendant Jordy’s credit card.
“Where are we going?” Kaira asked between bites of nugget. “Are we going to the hockey game?”
She hadn’t quite grasped the fact that not all of Jordy’s games happened on home ice. Rowan couldn’t blame her; from what he’d seen on TV, the rinks did all kind of look the same.
“Not tonight. I have to go back to work.” Which Jordy knew about, because Rowan had told him three days ago, when Jordy was stubbornly refusing to interview someone because she didn’t have a passport, as though having a passport would qualify her to work in the States anyway. “But I’ll put the game on my phone and you can watch in the office, okay?” He could rustle up a pair of earbuds so she wouldn’t disturb the rest of the staff.
“Okay.”
They stopped briefly in the family restroom at the library so Rowan could help her wash grease from her face and hands. By that time he was almost late, so he scooped her up and booked it toward the conference room.
It was 6:29 when Marina spotted him in the hallway. “Mr. Chadha.” She raised her eyebrows in surprise to see Kaira. “I didn’t realize you were bringing an assistant to this meeting.”
He couldn’t tell from her tone if she was annoyed or just curious. “Sorry,” he said automatically. “This month’s schedule is a bit chaotic. She won’t be any trouble.” I hope.
“The books here are so big ,” Kaira put in seriously.
Rowan could’ve sworn the corner of Marina’s mouth twitched like she wanted to smile. “That they are, young lady. My name is Marina Chifundo. And you are…?”
“Kaira Shaw.”
Marina’s eyebrows ascended to another plane of existence. “Nice to meet you, Miss Shaw. Why don’t you go inside and ask Mr. Iulian—he’s the tall man with the bow tie—where he keeps the coloring books.”
Kaira squirmed out of Rowan’s arms. “Okay.”
Someone should probably teach this kid about stranger danger. Rowan thought sourly it ought to be Jordy, but he wasn’t here.
“Trouble in paradise?” Marina asked mildly as they closed the conference room door behind them. Rowan thought he had to field a lot of questions after those preseason game pictures. Now that he’d brought Kaira to a work meeting, he could only expect the third degree.
“Jordy is dragging his feet hiring a real nanny.” Rowan immediately hated himself for how bitter that sounded. “It’s not like I mind spending time with Kaira, of course,” he added. “She’s great. It’s just….”
“He’s gone and has no appreciation for the amount of work he’s put on you?”
Rowan felt his ears heat. Jordy certainly appreciated some things about Rowan. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t being well compensated, what with a roof over his head and a car to drive and food to eat on top of a salary. And Jordy, er, appreciated him plenty when they were alone together as well.
Although that appreciation felt different since that night in Jordy’s room. They hadn’t had sex there again. Now that a trade was on the horizon, it was like Jordy had changed his mind about what he wanted from Rowan. Which mostly consisted of childcare.
Probably Rowan should stop bottling up this resentment. “Something like that,” he agreed.
Marina clapped him on the shoulder and nudged him toward a seat. Andreu had procured a beanbag chair and an enormous box of crayons from somewhere and had set Kaira up in a corner.
Rowan prayed that would keep her occupied. He had no idea how long this meeting might go.
“All right,” Marina said, clapping her hands. She motioned toward Ravi, who nodded and opened his laptop. “Everyone’s here, so let’s call this meeting to order.”
For the first twenty minutes, everything went smoothly. Rowan almost couldn’t believe his luck.
It obviously couldn’t last.
At five to seven, Kaira had to use the bathroom. Marina kindly suggested they all take a five-minute recess, even though no adult needed a break. Then Kaira wanted to watch the hockey game. Rowan put it on his phone with the volume muted, but she wanted to sit on his lap to watch.
By the time the meeting wrapped up at quarter to eight, Kaira was cranky and listless and had kneed him in the kidney seventeen times. Rowan didn’t know how she managed to do that; weren’t the kidneys supposed to be in the back?
“Can we get ice cream?” Kaira asked as Rowan settled her back in her car seat.
“Not tonight.” She needed a bath and then bed. She was going to be late for bedtime as it was.
Kaira pouted. “But I want—”
“No,” Rowan said firmly. He’d been at work since just before nine that morning. They were not making any stops on the way home. “You had a treat for dinner. It’s time to go home and get ready for bed.”
That cued a pout, but no tears, at least.
She did kick the back of the passenger seat all the way home, but at least she wasn’t behind Rowan.
Bathtime was the usual fight. Kaira splashed water all over the bathroom, and Rowan wasn’t cleaning it up. Let Jordy pay someone to clean the mold off. Then Kaira wanted to stay up to watch the end of the hockey game. She wanted to stay up to talk to her dad once he got off the ice. She wanted a third bedtime story.
Rowan wanted a drink and twelve hours by himself where he didn’t have to talk to anyone.
Finally Kaira fell asleep and Rowan retreated to the den downstairs, just for that extra level of insulation between himself and the nearest human being.
So of course, after only one episode of his favorite library documentary, his phone rang.
JORDY PULLED off his tie and rubbed his temples.
The Shield hadn’t played badly, but they’d lost 3–1 in a lackluster fashion, and he felt vaguely embarrassed that the team hadn’t been able to match Florida’s energy.
Jordy took off his jacket and sat on the edge of his hotel bed. He wished he could tiptoe into his daughter’s room and watch her sleep, maybe kiss her downy head. The older he got, the more he hated road trips. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed the travel and excitement of new cities. Now that he was in his thirties and with a six-year-old at home, each anonymous hotel room blurred into the next, and every missed day with his kid felt like another moment or memory he couldn’t recover. Somehow his baby had grown up into a school-age child, and Jordy didn’t know when that had happened, but he worried it was while he was sitting in hotel rooms across the continent.
And maybe he was being maudlin.
He rubbed his face again and sighed.
The past week had been long and stressful, partly because of the impending trade talk and partly because his plans to bring up the possibility of a relationship with Rowan got derailed. As much as he wanted a future with him, it wouldn’t be fair to put his feelings on Rowan—to ask him to make a choice between long distance or giving up his job. That was, of course, if Rowan was even interested in long-term. Telling Rowan about his feelings when he couldn’t offer him stability and when Rowan was still living in his home felt selfish.
Besides, Jordy was a defenseman. He couldn’t leave his own heart unprotected. He knew how much it would hurt to hear Rowan say no after Jordy laid his heart on the line.
All week he’d done his best not to think about it, not to overstep. And if that meant no more scorchingly hot, possessive sex in his bedroom? Well. Pinning Rowan facedown to his own bed and grinding into him so slowly that Rowan was sobbing by the time he came wasn’t terrible. At least he was living up to their no-strings bargain.
Jordy pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had new texts from his parents and sisters, wishing him luck and condolences on the game, but nothing from Rowan.
He glanced at the time—just after ten. Rowan would probably be awake. Jordy could call him, hear his voice, get stories about Kaira’s day. By the time he hung up, he’d be in a much better mood. Besides, he doubted he’d be able to sleep without hearing Rowan’s voice or hearing his baby was safe and sound.
The phone rang three times before Rowan picked up.
“Jordy.” There was something in Rowan’s voice Jordy couldn’t decode, but he felt better hearing it anyway.
“Hey, Rowan.”
“What’s up?” Rowan asked, voice clipped.
Jordy hesitated, not sure what to make of it. “Just checking in, wondering how my peanut is doing.”
A long beat of silence stretched down the line before Rowan said, “She’s fine.”
“Okay. What’d she get to up to today?”
“You want a full recap? You know you’ll be able to get that from in her in the morning.”
Jordy paused, breathed. It might not be heinously late, but clearly it was late enough that Rowan didn’t want to play telephone between father and daughter. That was understandable. “You’re right. I’m just missing her today.”
Rowan hummed.
Jordy thought about his lonely hotel bed with its generic everything that would smell like laundry soap and the bad sleep ahead of him, and missed his kid so much he ached. “Send me a picture of her?”
“You must have a million of those on your phone,” Rowan pointed out.
Which, yes, obviously Jordy did, but none of them were current. “No, I mean—I just really need to see her.” It wouldn’t be a kiss good night, but it would do.
“You want me to sneak into your kid’s room in the middle of the night to take a picture of her sleeping?” When put like that, it did sound a little silly. “Bugger that. I’m not risking her waking up.”
There was an edge to his tone that suggested…. “Hard night?” Jordy tried to say it lightly, inject some sympathetic humor, because he knew those nights.
“Fuck you, Shaw.”
Jordy gaped. What?
“Hard—my whole evening was a humiliating shitshow. I told you I had a staff meeting tonight days ago. But instead of finding alternative care, you left me to deal with it. Showing up with someone else’s kid to a staff meeting isn’t exactly a move that impresses the boss.”
Guilt gnawed at Jordy’s gut. He knew he needed to find someone else, but the threat of a looming trade put another kink the plan. If he was traded south, Jordy would have to do the whole nanny hunt all over again—unless he managed to find someone licensed to work in Canada and the US and willing to move at a moment’s notice. Hell, he would probably have to find someone new even if he got traded to Ottawa, their closest rival. Most nannies weren’t looking to relocate.
“I know I need to find a nanny,” he conceded. “It’s complicated—”
“That and a million dollars will get me an apartment on Yonge,” Rowan snapped, “but it’s not exactly a consolation when I’ve got a cranky kid whining for ice cream and another story because she’s up past nine because you can’t get your head out of your ass.”
Jordy inhaled sharply. “Fuck you too.” He could understand Rowan being tired or stressed, but that wasn’t fair. “Do you think I like having to deal with this? Having to find a nanny on such short notice? Trusting a stranger with your kid isn’t easy. And I might have to start the search all over again—”
“All the more reason to get someone now. Jesus, Jordy, if you might get traded tomorrow and need to start the search over, then someone good enough for the after-school shift shouldn’t be hard to find.” A direct hit with merit, so naturally it stung worse than a baseless accusation. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed your bullshit excuses. You’re dragging your feet on purpose and refusing to hire someone.”
Okay, maybe Jordy was being a little overly critical now that he had Janice and Rowan for the gold standards of nanny care, but—“What do you want me to do? Kaira is the most important person in my life. I’m not going to trust her with just anybody!”