32. Luca
LUCA
Dear Diary,
Lynx refuses to be an asshole. I find this personally offensive.
Lynx high-fived the players as they slouched out of the locker room door after an early morning training session.
His positivity was at complete odds with the vibe my father and uncle had left behind for them last week when they’d delivered their big “gift,” then showed up again at training yesterday to make sure everyone was reminded of their expectations.
Lynx apparently wasn’t bothered by any of that.
Or by the fact the mood out on the ice this morning had been about as low as it could get, my father’s presence still lingering, even though he hadn’t shown his face today.
Lynx was all big smiles and encouraging words.
Reassurances that nobody needed to worry about getting cut, and they were all training so well and the wins would come.
He patted them on their backs and called each one by name, telling them to have a good day and that he’d see them again for practice later in the week.
He waited ’til they’d all left.
And then picked up a hockey puck and hurled it into the wall.
I barely flinched as it cracked against the concrete and bounced off, skittering across the floor and finding a home somewhere beneath one of the benches.
He whirled on me. “What the fuck was that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I believe that was you blowing smoke up your players’ asses, then crashing out when you realized you were full of shit?”
He glared at me. “I meant your fucking father. You see the change in them this week, just from him being around, with his constant fucking negativity and demands? I thought this was your team?”
“Funny, I thought it was ours.” I pointed between him and me.
Lynx blinked at that, and then sat heavily on the bench, some of the fight going out of him. “Now it’s you blowing smoke up my skirt.”
I sat beside him. “You’d look hot in a skirt. As long as it wasn’t too short. Your dick would hang below the hem in a mini.”
He snorted on my bad attempt at humor. “You shouldn’t be saying shit like that. What if your uncle is hanging around like he was yesterday?” He walked over to pick up the puck. “I heard what he said to you. About French. And me.”
I stiffened. “Did anyone else?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I was closer than they were. And I was paying more attention.” He cleared his throat. “We never talked about that night at the party…”
I swallowed thickly. That night when I’d been drunk and so stupidly turned on by Nyah walking around in a dress that had just made me want to take it off her, and Lynx smelling too good by my side that I’d lost sense of my head and gotten on my knees for him in a place that was way too public.
And now my uncle knew things I really wish he didn’t. I was a fucking idiot.
“What the hell are we going to do with this team?” I asked Lynx, ignoring his attempt at discussing what had happened between us, and the result of getting caught doing it. “They’re terrible.”
Lynx’s gaze turned fiery. “We aren’t cutting any of them.”
“We might have no choice if we actually want to win. This team is a business. It needs to make money. Attract sponsorships. If we can’t do that at this level, we’ll have no hope of owning bigger and better, more professional teams. I don’t know why my father is suddenly interested in sports, but then I didn’t understand when he wanted to get into restaurants either.
This is what he does. He finds niches in markets that can make him money, and then he exploits the hell out of them until they do.
And right now, this team is bleeding money.
The biggest-value asset we have is X in his fucking viper costume that looks like a slightly deformed dick.
The kids love him, and the adults think he’s hilarious. ”
Lynx smiled a little. “They think he’s faking not being able to skate.”
I laughed. “I know. He’s actually pretty entertaining. And he’s free. So he stays. But everyone else…”
“They’re good guys, Luca. Some of them have been dreaming of playing on this team since they were little kids.
A couple of them have wives and babies they’re supporting.
So they’re sacrificing a lot to come here before and after their day jobs.
They’re just hoping for a shot at making it big.
I can’t fucking take that away from them. ”
I stared at him.
The moment drew out so long, Lynx shifted in his seat. “What? Do I have food on my face or something?”
I shook my head. “No. I just realized you’re an actual nice person.”
He screwed up his face. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. I think I had you pegged wrong. I saw biker. Ex-con. Bodyguard for a Mafia don. But actually, you’re the boy next door.”
Lynx’s eyes turned squinty. “I spent almost a third of my life so far behind the bars of a prison cell. I was only the boy next door to the murderer in the cell beside mine.”
I chuckled. “What did you go to jail for?”
His expression turned cold. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“You know I could find out in about three seconds with an internet search.”
“Yeah, or you could call one of your contacts at the cop shop. I bet you have at least half of them on payroll, don’t you?”
“We do,” I admitted. “Police pay isn’t exactly making anyone rich. They’re easily bribed.”
He nodded. “Like I thought. So why not just ask one of them what I did? Why not just google it if you’re so interested?”
I wondered the same thing. I’d thought about it. I was definitely curious. But something had stopped me each time I’d considered opening a laptop and doing a search or picking up the phone to call one of the cops we had on the take.
“It’s your story to tell,” I finally said to him. “Not mine to demand.”
He glanced over at me. “Now who’s being a nice guy?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’m not, Lynx. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I am. Ask anyone in this town. They’ll tell you all the bad shit I’ve done and they probably only know the tip of it.”
Lynx shrugged. “Maybe I like a bad boy.”
I groaned. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“Why not?”
“Makes me want to do things I can’t be fucking doing in public places.” At least not again. I’d learned my lesson the hard way there.
“That the only thing stopping you?” he asked quietly. “That someone might walk in and catch me fucking you?”
Heat flushed my body. “Presumptuous of you to assume I’m a bottom.”
“Presumptuous of you to assume I meant fucking your ass. You been thinking about that?”
I groaned. “Fucking hell, Lynx. Stop it.”
He didn’t make a move to touch me. “We’re just talking.”
“We’re doing a whole lot more than that, and you know it. Don’t make this fucking harder for me.”
“There’s no one here, Luca.”
I breathed out and stood, putting space between us.
Because all I could see was my uncle catching me with my lips wrapped around Lynx’s cock. All I could hear was his reminder that my family didn’t tolerate anyone who wasn’t straight. Letting this thing with Lynx go any further than it had was not only dangerous, it was dumb.
I shifted my weight uncomfortably. “We should go. You probably need to sleep before you’re back on duty guarding Nyah’s door.”
Lynx didn’t check his watch. I could practically see the way the words wanted to fall off his lips, the questions he wanted to demand answers to.
And then I watched him push them away. “I’ll see you tonight then. Boss.”
I nodded; grateful he wasn’t going to pursue it any further.
And yet when he walked out of the room, leaving me behind, all I felt was disappointment.