Chapter Eleven #2
Grabbing my wallet and key card, I head downstairs right away to catch some rays on the bench outside the hotel.
For a few minutes, the traffic on the street sounds like white noise, and I’m half asleep, soaking up the sun like a sleepy cat.
Until I get a sense that someone’s nearby and my eyes pop open.
Turning my head, I spot Sel stalking toward me wearing a similar outfit, except his shirt is cut closer to his chest and arms. His hair, unlike mine, is stylishly messy, and while the sunglasses cover his eyes, there’s no hiding that smile.
Sweat slides down my back, and I pull at my shirt. I’m not used to this heat.
The weather, that is.
“You’re already red,” he teases. “Better be careful.”
“I’ll risk it. Besides, the sunburn will cover up the freckles.”
“Not all of them.”
“I’d need a nude beach for that.”
Sel chuckles and I want to smack myself upside the head.
Why did I blurt that out? Am I experiencing sunstroke?
Sel, thank fuck, ignores my comment.
“We should get going, Finn. My stomach isn’t happy with me right now.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
I quickly stand up and we start walking west.
“I hope you don’t mind but I made a reservation at one of my favorite spots. It’s not trendy, but they’ve always got great food and a covered patio that can’t be beat. I try to visit whenever I’m here.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I keep forgetting that Sel’s traveled all over and this is nothing new for him.
But me? I’m glancing around like a stunned tourist, oohing and aahing over every little thing that catches my attention.
Sel doesn’t mind. In fact, if his expression is any indication, he’s enjoying my enthusiasm.
And he’s right about the restaurant: it’s busy, but not overcrowded, and the patio is like an oasis in the city.
We order a pitcher of iced green tea and snack on a plate of homemade focaccia while waiting for our dinner.
“Tell me more about growing up in Santa Barbara,” I ask him.
“We settled there when I was ten. Before that, there was a lot of moving around. My dad was in the military, so we never stayed in one place very long.”
“That must’ve been hard.”
“I wouldn’t say hard, but yeah, it’s difficult to form friendships when you’re uprooted a lot. That’s part of the reason why Karson, Atticus, and I are tight.”
“And your parents?”
“Mom raised us, so we’re close. My dad on the other hand—” Sel clenches his jaw.
“The year I turned nine, something happened to him when he was sent on a job overseas. When he came back, he started drinking heavily, and he was always angry. According to my mom, he refused to tell her what was going on and he refused to go to the doctor. Eight months after he came home, he left us for good. Karson was six and Atticus was four. Mom moved us back to Santa Barbara because she had family there and that’s where we stayed. ”
“Oh, Sel. I can’t even imagine.”
He shakes his head.
“We got through it and we’re stronger for it.
We hear from my father once a year—a phone call.
He works as a ranch hand in South Dakota.
Unfortunately, two decades later, he’s still drinking.
” He sighs. “It was rough on all of us, but in the end, his leaving was for the best. Somehow he knew that he couldn’t get a handle on his addiction, and he didn’t want to hurt us.
At first, all I wanted was for my dad to come home, but as I grew older, I learned to accept why he didn’t.
Or couldn’t. Not that it hurts any less.
If it hadn’t been for Mom helping us through it—”
Sel blinks rapidly and reaches for his drink. I can’t even imagine dealing with a loss like that. Before I know it, I’m reaching across and touching his forearm to comfort him. Sel doesn’t pull away.
“Your mom’s a warrior.”
Sel’s grin makes a comeback.
“Strongest person I know. Fierce and funny too, but in a very dry way. The Dutch way. Not everyone gets her sense of humor. And she takes no bullshit, not from anyone, not even from her sons. She was born in the Netherlands before her parents immigrated here and built a grocery business in Santa Barbara. Mom still runs it. She could retire now, but she loves working.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I get my drive from her.”
“Same. Well, from both my parents and my brother, Will.”
Despite what he’s been through, Sel’s steady and grounded, a lot more than I first assumed. I chatter about my siblings, including my oldest brother, and the accident that I never talk about with anyone, except those in my inner circle.
“Will’s the oldest. He and I are four years apart, but similar in a lot of ways.
He was a star linebacker in high school and we both had dreams of becoming pro athletes.
” I pause and reach for my glass, needing a drink to ease the constriction in my throat.
“Just after he turned eighteen, on the Thanksgiving Sunday, Will and a group of his buddies drove to Fremont to watch a football game. A snowstorm turned into freezing rain and the friend who was driving lost control of the truck. Everyone survived, mostly minor injuries, but my brother ruptured his spinal cord. He lost the use of his legs and his football dreams. It took a lot of time, healing and redefining what his new life would look like, but he kept working, and he wouldn’t give up.
Now he runs his own social media business helping colleges market their athletic programs, and he’s doing great. ”
Sel’s eyes lock on mine. The sunset casts a glow over his features and I can’t look away.
“You’re close,” he finally says.
“Yes,” I admit. “He’s one of the reasons I push so hard when it comes to hockey. I refuse to give up. That, and what happened with my mom and her cancer. I feel I owe it to them.”
Sel stares at me.
“You don’t owe them; you love them.”
I nod, a tightness gripping my chest, leaving me at a loss for what to say.
Luckily, I don’t have to say anything because the server returns with our meals. We pivot back to talking about food and the upcoming games.
Two hours, two braised beef ribs with polenta, and four desserts later, we head back to the hotel.
I’m so involved in our conversation that I don’t realize Sel’s escorted me to my floor until I hear the elevator ping.
The doors slide open, and the hallway’s empty and quiet.
I step out and turn to say good night, only, something makes me pause as Sel and I stand facing each other.
There’s a tension, an undercurrent that I can’t explain. It’s probably all in my imagination.
“Thanks for the workout today,” Sel offers. “And the company at dinner.”
“Anytime.”
With a final nod, the doors close.
After that epic meal and lots of walking, I should be relaxed and sleepy, ready for bed.
Instead, my heart’s thrumming wildly, so I speed walk to my room.
Swiping my card, I open the door, and jolt when I hear Kuznetsov’s twin-engine snoring.
My teammates are right: he’s louder than a jet plane.
Fuck me, it’s going to be an interesting week.
For many reasons.
I throw my key card on the dresser, shove in my earplugs, and throw myself down on the mattress.
But sleep doesn’t come. My mind’s too busy replaying dinner.
The more I talk to Sel, the more I want to know.
Not just that, but I want to hang out with him, all the fucking time.
And what’s worse? My body catches up to my brain, and when I think about him here, now, lying in the dark, it happens again.
I’m hard.
For most guys it’s no big deal, happens all the time. But for me? It’s telling. And I can’t pretend anymore that I don't understand what it means.
Sel
Do it already.
I pick up my phone, determined to send Taylor a text about our plans for the next date. On paper, we’re a perfect couple. In real life, I couldn’t care less. But things will be easier if I follow Hugo’s advice.
Only, there’s someone else I can’t stop thinking about: an auburn-haired, talkative rookie with a crooked nose and the cutest twin dimples I’ve ever seen.
Stop it.
I remind myself that Finn’s straight. Straight and out of bounds.
And yet, my dick doesn’t care. Neither does my brain, or my heart, which picks up speed the moment I think about Finn.
Tonight was different from our other conversations.
We talked for hours and joked around but it was more than that; I couldn’t stop staring at him.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this close to any friend.
No matter where we are or what we’re doing, when I’m with Finn, I’m totally myself.
And it doesn’t help that dinner felt more like a date than a meal between friends.
When he touched my arm, I almost put my hand over his.
Fuck, I wanted to lean over and taste his smile, and those dimples that should be illegal.
I wanted to kiss the pink flush on his cheeks, not to mention every freckle on his vivid face.
It was all I could do tonight to hold myself back from reaching for him.
It’s just you, and you’re acting a fool.
Which is why, at ten at night, I’m taking the coldest shower in the history of ever. Anything to calm my dick down. I’m too old to be crushing on someone. Especially someone I work with. I need to fight this attraction and put a stop to it.
Only, fantasy me has another agenda, and he decides to play this out with fantasy Finn.
Cock in hand, eyes closed, I jerk off under the spray, my body overheating despite the chill of the water.
In my dream, Finn’s leaning against the tiles, naked, wet, and every inch of him is all mine, from his slick-backed hair to his freckle-kissed, heart-shaped lips, and all the way down that long, rangy body.
Watching him on the treadmill today was so fucking distracting, I’m surprised I didn’t stumble and make an ass of myself.
I don’t think he recognizes how hot he is, but in my feverish fantasy I’m determined to show him.