Chapter 2
TWO
JULIAN
Ifluttered my eyes open to sunshine streaming in from a crack in my blackout shades. An ache pounded in my temples. Fuck, I’d drunk too much yesterday, and I’d forgotten to shut the curtains entirely before—
A warm body stirred next to me and mumbled.
Flicking my gaze to the slender back and rounded ass shifting under my sheets, my heart stopped.
He didn’t leave? Why hadn’t he left? He wasn’t expecting breakfast, was he?
I scoffed and sat up, brushing my bangs off my forehead and smacking my dry lips.
What the hell was his name? “Hey.” I pushed his shoulder.
“Yeah?” The man turned his head of almost black hair to face me and opened a brown eye. “Hey, how are you feeling this morning? Crazy night, huh?” A smile teased his lips.
“Yeah, fantastic.” I took inventory of my body, running my gaze along my abs and arms. My ass was a little sore, and a few bite marks lingered on my shoulder. He’d left his mark. I’d told him not to. I didn’t belong to anyone and never would again. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I lifted a brow.
He pushed onto straight arms and then sat on his legs, his morning wood standing tall between his thighs. “Not really. We could uh—”
“No, I don’t do seconds. I think it’s time to say goodbye.” After hopping out of bed, I strode to my dresser and slipped pajama bottoms up my legs. I disliked being an ass, but sometimes you had to be direct with these guys. “I have shit to do, so.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” He climbed off the bed and dressed in his clothing from last night, a silk shirt and tight jeans.
“So, uh, Julian? I suppose if you don’t do seconds, we won’t exchange numbers?
” Combing his bed-disheveled hair with his fingers, he peered at me.
“Because you were…” He snickered. “Damn, it was good.”
“No, we won’t exchange numbers.” Huffing a sigh, I strode toward the doorway. “Here, I’ll show you out.”
He followed me through the main room of my penthouse, and we stopped at the front door. As he scanned my place, he said, “This place is amazing, Julian. I mean, the view. You can see all the way to Red Mountain. What do you do again?”
“I work for my father.” That’s all he needed to know. “Now, have a nice day.” I swung the door open and placed a hand on my hip. “I, uh, enjoyed myself.”
“Me too.” He leaned in and planted a hard kiss on my mouth. “Maybe you’ll reconsider. I go to the Velvet Spur a lot. I hope to see you there again sometime.”
“Sure.” I pressed my lips together. Great, now I had to find a different gay bar to go to.
But this one was so close, I could walk to it.
What a shame. “Goodbye.” I watched the sway of his ass as he strolled down my hallway.
One and done was way better than having your heart torn to pieces by one of these guys. I’d learned my lesson.
With a long sigh, I shut the door and leaned my back against it. Tomorrow I’d start my new job as Hockey Operations Assistant, and I’d begin following in my father’s footsteps.
After making coffee and a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese and toast, I sat at the kitchen island counter and scrolled through my Instagram feed.
All my friends from Harvard were home and in similar situations to mine, ditching their relaxed college attire for stuffy suits.
Some had even cut their hair. No fucking way.
I’d slick mine back with gel before I’d do that.
As I stuck my fork into my eggs, my phone buzzed with a call from Dad. “Fuck.” I’d wanted to eat my damn breakfast. It would have to wait. I answered the call. “Hi, Dad.” I did my best to sound upbeat and not like I had one of the worst hangovers in history.
“Hello, Julian. Are you ready for tomorrow?” Papers shuffled in the background.
Was he working? On a Sunday? It shouldn’t surprise me. “Of course. I’ll be at the Ice Den bright and early, like you’d asked.” As usual, he was all business. He never started with, hey, how are you? Did you have a good weekend?
“Good. Let’s review some points, so you’re prepared.
” He cleared his throat. “You’ll meet with the head coach when you get there.
His name is Brian Henderson. But make sure you address him as Coach Henderson and not Brian when you’re in front of the players.
In fact, do it all the time. It’ll be easier. ”
“Okay, not Mr. Henderson?” What the fuck? I wasn’t a player. I pushed my eggs around on my plate with my fork. I would be his assistant. His toady, his boy Friday, his—
“No, that’s not how it works in hockey. You need to show respect, especially in front of the players.”
“Okay.” I ate a bite of eggs. I’d be listening a lot on this phone call.
“He’s a good man, and he’ll teach you a lot about player development this week and how we evaluate the rookies coming in and the AHL players vying for a spot.” He paused. “Have you reviewed the current team roster yet, or gone over any of the materials we’ve sent you?”
No…I’d been too busy enjoying my last days of freedom. “Of course.” I sipped my coffee. “Looks like a talented group of young men.” With a smirk, I picked up my toast. How tactful and evasive I was. I’d review the materials later today. But there was so much of it.
“They are. As I’ve previously stated, our roster holds the highest number of queer players in the NHL and…” His breath snagged. “They’re all engaged or have boyfriends, so I’m told.” He huffed a laugh.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t get involved with your players.” With a soft scoff, I took a bite of toast. They were damn attractive, yes, but I had no need of a cocky jock in my life.
“We’re helping to change the narrative in hockey. You know, you’ll be a part of that,” Dad said.
“Yes, I know.” One thing my father had been good at was supporting me with my sexuality.
He might be a demanding fucker otherwise, but with that, he was steadfast. Placing some eggs on my toast, I said, “I’m looking forward to the messaging part of this job.
I think I can bring a unique perspective to the staff and the organization.
” Which was why mastering hockey’s details wasn’t important to me.
Did it really matter if I could spot talent? Scouts and coaches filled that role.
“I know you can, son. With your performance at Harvard and the knowledge you gained there, I’m sure you’ll help push the franchise to new levels.
” He inhaled. “Don’t be afraid to bring anything to my attention.
Let me know if you observe any problems that need addressing.
With you coming in blind, you’ll have a unique perspective and might see things we’ve missed. ”
“Yep, I will.” I ate a bite of toast slathered in eggs. Was Dad asking me to be a snitch? Hell, I’d have to tread carefully and not step on toes.
“Okay, what questions do you have for me?” he asked.
Shit, I hadn’t prepared for this. I hadn’t reviewed the materials he’d sent. “Uh, it seems straightforward to me, so I don’t have questions right now. If some come up, I’ll call you.” I drank more coffee, the caffeine buzzing inside me.
“Okay, I’ll wait for your call. I’m sure things will come up.”
A text message popped up on my phone.
Ian
Hey, I know it’s your last day before you start with the Coyotes. Do you have time for lunch?
My heart stuttered. My ex. I could never turn him down. “Hey, I need to go, Dad. I have a lot to work on and want to get started.” Dad would like that.
“Sure. I’ll speak with you later.”
“Bye, Dad. Love you.” I scratched my cheek and flicked my gaze to the clock on my stovetop. It was only ten. Maybe I could grab a later lunch with Ian.
“Love you, too. Bye now.” Dad ended the call.
I tapped a quick message to Ian.
Julian
Of course. How about Olive and Ivy at 1:00?
It was my go-to place, since I could walk there in five minutes or less. I could review some materials before we met and quiz him on his knowledge of hockey. My phone lit.
Ian
See you there.
I strolled along the covered sidewalk beside high-end shops, the buildings all styled in contemporary Tuscan, just like the one I lived in.
I was right next to the Scottsdale Fashion Square mall, so I had walkable access to anything I wanted.
It was like living in a small city, but without the glass high-rises, and it suited me.
Plus, the nightclubs and bars were a few blocks away.
The midday heat permeated the area. I couldn’t wait for October when it would finally cool off.
Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my linen shorts, I spied Ian standing at the glass doors of the establishment, his brown wavy hair falling across his forehead, his stunning blue eyes focused on me.
My heart fluttered against my will. Four years had passed since our breakup.
It was time my damn heart understood that. “Hey. You look amazing.”
“Hey, Julian, same.” Wrapping an arm around my waist, he hugged me to his side and kissed my cheek. “I put our names in for a table. There’s no room at the bar.”
“Oh. Let’s see if I can grease the wheels a bit.
” They knew me here and knew I tipped well—even the hostesses.
Strolling to the hostess stand, I gave the woman my brightest smile.
“Hey.” I glanced at her name tag. “Chelsea. We’re on the waitlist for a table, but…
” I slipped a twenty from my pocket and grabbed her hand, placing it inside her palm.
Her brows ticked up, and she glanced at her hand. “Oh, I’ve got a splendid table by the window. Would that be acceptable?”
“It would.” With a smirk at Ian, I pulled on his arm. “You can give them back the pager.”
“How did I know you’d do this?” He placed the pager the hostess had given him on the stand.
We followed the woman through the restaurant with high ceilings and thick wooden beams, tall windows with long tapestry draperies in a Moroccan print, and tables with marble tops.
“Here you are.” She set the menus down on the table, overlooking the outdoor patio and canal-turned-waterfront walkway.