Page 14
“Soooo,” Violet said as she sipped some water, casually glamorous in a beautiful one-shoulder dress, her jewelry discarded on the kitchen counter, her heels strewn across the tile floor. “Who is this guy you keep sneaking out to meet.”
Dakota had a bite of Jeff’s kick-ass macaroni and cheese in his mouth at the moment, but he knew once he chewed and swallowed, he was screwed. He’d been granted a temporary reprieve when the team had a short road trip to Washington D.C. but there was no way he was going to get away with dodging his sister’s questions any longer.
Dakota stretched the moment out by taking a sip of water, then aimed for nonchalance. “Just some dude. And I haven’t been sneaking .”
“Mm-hmm.” She shot him an unimpressed look and took a bite of her own food. “And how did you meet this dude?”
“Uhh, okay, so it’s not a big deal, but he works for the team,” Dakota admitted, because he’d never get away with flat-out lying to his sister and claiming it was someone he’d met on an app or in a bar or club. She’d read it on him in a minute.
Violet’s eyes widened and she made a sputtering sound into her water. “He’s with the Harriers ?”
“I’m serious! It’s really not a big deal,” he protested. “He’s not a player or anything, just works for the franchise, you know?”
He was hoping she’d assume it was one of the athletic trainers or like a security guard or something. Not, you know, the general fucking manager. And, oh yeah, his boss .
God, he really was stupid.
“And do I know him?” she asked with a lift of her eyebrows.
“Maybe?” Dakota said, shrugging because he didn’t really know how much interaction they’d had. “I don’t know who you’re tight with in the organization. Based off the way people gushed about how much they loved you when I got hired, it’s everyone , but how the hell should I know who you’re chummy with?”
“It’s not everyone ,” she protested. “Not even close to it!”
“Well, it seemed like a lot.”
“Stop stalling and tell me his name,” she demanded.
“No!” Dakota laughed. “I’m not going to let you harass a guy I’m having sex with.”
“I wouldn’t harass him.” She pursed her lips. “And it seems like more than sex.”
“Well, it’s not . We’re hooking up.”
“This was the third time this week ,” Violet scoffed.
“We’re … sexually compatible.” Dakota crammed another bite of pasta into his mouth.
Which was hilarious, really, with all the maneuvering they’d had to do initially about who was doing what to whom and what body parts were off-limits. But damn if it hadn’t been fuck-hot every time.
Dakota was beginning to lose track of all of the things they’d done lately, but all of them had left him feeling wrung out in the best of ways. And, he thought a little smugly, Gavin unable to move.
“Well, I assumed that much when you came staggering in late every night.”
“Okay, it’s hardly been every night,” Dakota protested. “He’s busy. We wouldn’t have time for every night, even if we wanted.”
“Busy, huh? What is he busy with?”
“Cut it out! I’m not giving you any more details, you snoop ,” he fired back.
She shot him an innocent glance, batting her long lashes. “Who said anything about details? I don’t want to hear about your sex life any more than you want to hear about mine.”
“What’s this about Dakota’s sex life?” Jeff asked, strolling in.
Thankfully, none of the kids were with him, since they’d spent the night at their grandparents’ house. Jeff and Violet had gone on a date night to celebrate the anniversary of when they’d first met and had come home a few minutes before Dakota had gotten back from Gavin’s place.
Guilt prickled through Dakota. He usually watched the kids when they went out, although both Violet and Jeff had assured him the grandparents were happy to have time with them.
Both Violet and Jeff were tipsy and hungry—apparently the chic restaurant where they’d had dinner had offered appallingly small portions—so they’d heated leftovers and Dakota had reluctantly agreed to join them.
He wasn’t even that hungry—Gavin had this weird thing about making sure he had food Dakota would like at his condo—but if he got into that, then Violet would ask even more questions and … and damn it.
Dakota was now thoroughly annoyed with himself for not taking Gavin up on his perpetual offer to stay later and let him pay for the ride share. Dakota had thought it would keep things simpler if they avoided any messy money shit and he made sure he left in time to grab the last train of the night to Quincy.
But he was beginning to think he’d made a terrible mistake tonight, mac and cheese notwithstanding.
“Your wife is being nosy about my sex life,” Dakota muttered around a mouthful of deliciousness.
“I am not!” Violet protested, passing her bowl to Jeff. “All I asked my brother was who he’s been seeing.”
“I’m not seeing anyone ,” Dakota protested, stirring his pasta because it still had too-hot and too-cold pockets from the microwave. “It’s a hookup. Nothing else.”
“A hookup he’s hooking up with three or four times a week ,” Violet said. “And get this, the guy works for the Harriers too.”
“Ooh.” Jeff passed the bowl back to his wife, then leaned forward. “Is he a player? Let me guess … you’re screwing Luke Crawford.”
Dakota made a sputtering noise. “No! He’s not a fucking player. And it’s definitely not Luke Crawford. He’s the last guy I’d have sex with.”
Jeff shrugged. “I dunno, he looks like he could throw a guy around pretty well.”
Dakota glared at him. “Yes, well, I don’t want to be thrown around. I prefer to do the throwing most of the time, if you must know.”
“I mean, that’s cool too. Whatever floats your boat.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Dakota sighed. “You know I normally love you and your cooking, Jeff, but I really don’t like you right now.”
He laughed loudly.
Violet snorted too, padding across the kitchen to refill her glass of water and press a kiss to Dakota’s cheek. “You do know the secrecy is driving me even more crazy and making me more intrigued, right? I’ll figure this out eventually if it kills me.”
“Over my dead body,” Dakota muttered.
“Hey now,” Jeff said mildly. “No one is dying. But you really should know by now how persistent she is, Dakota. She will sniff this out.”
“Ughhh,” Dakota said, glaring at his mac and cheese. “I don’t like either of you right now.”
“Too bad!” Violet said cheerfully. “We love you. That’s why we’re so nosy.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he muttered.
The following morning as Dakota arrived at HCI for his weekly session with Gavin, he was still mulling over his sister and brother-in-law’s words.
The problem was, they were both right. They did love him, and after his horrible breakup with Bryce, they’d been justifiably worried.
The fact he was seeing someone—even if it was just for sex—was making them feel a little protective, and well, nosy. They weren’t trying to pry because they wanted the dirty details, only to be sure Dakota wasn’t getting himself into a bad place.
Again.
But even if Gavin was his boss, it didn’t feel like a bad place, not when Dakota’s skin tingled as he prepped for his session with Gavin, turning on the salt lamps and queuing up the playlist he’d made on the train ride in this morning.
It didn’t feel like a bad place when a few moments later, there was a soft pad of footsteps behind him and Gavin’s familiar cologne teased his nostrils.
“Morning,” Dakota said, not even looking up from phone as he fiddled with the playlist, trying to get the device to sync to the speakers.
“Hey.” Gavin’s voice was a low rumble in his ear, his hand warm as he pressed it to Dakota’s hip.
It had only been a few weeks since they’d started this, and they’d had sex less than twelve hours ago. Way less than twelve hours, Dakota thought ruefully, as he thought about how little sleep he’d gotten last night. But his body still thrilled at Gavin’s touch and he let himself sink back against Gavin’s chest, his lips warm against the spot behind Dakota’s ear.
“Hey,” he said breathlessly, a beat too late. “You ready to do this?”
“I’m always ready for you,” Gavin said, his breath a tickling puff of air against Dakota’s nape.
They were playing with fire right now, but when he could feel Gavin’s smile against his skin, right now, that felt like all that mattered.
“Fuck!” Gavin muttered a few nights later, his fingers clenching on his water bottle as the Harriers defense let another puck slip through, leaving Jesse windmilling in the net, too late to stop it from going in.
Gavin tried to school his face into one of calm, steady neutrality, because he was sitting in the owners’ box tonight and cameras would absolutely be trained on him, but all he wanted to do was chuck the bottle against the floor and watch it splatter everywhere.
He’d done that once, and the press had had a field day.
“We’re bleeding points,” Ned Merrit said quietly.
No shit. That’s the understatement of the century. No matter how well Jesse was playing, he wasn’t enough to make up for their defensive shortcomings.
Wins had been further and further apart lately, and more and more likely to happen in overtime.
It wasn’t what they needed, especially against divisional rivals like Washington.
This was when they needed to be gaining ground, picking up points instead of ceding them to teams who were also jockeying for a desperately coveted wild card spot.
The team simply needed better defense.
It didn’t help that Luke Crawford was out at the moment.
He sat a few feet away in his game day suit, glowering at the ice below. It had to be driving him crazy he was out, but it was his own damn fault for an altercation with a Carolina player a few nights ago that had led to a five-game suspension for high-sticking and roughing.
No surprise, not with his history, but honestly, Gavin had watched the footage what felt like fifty times and at least to his eyes, Crawford hadn’t even intentionally been trying to high-stick the guy. Crawford’s stick had caught him in the jaw, but Gavin would swear it had been aimed at the guy’s shoulder and it had actually been the Carolina player’s arm jostling the stick that made it go high.
Of course, that had turned into shoving and arguing and by the time it was all over, there was no chance Crawford wouldn’t come out of it with a considerable suspension. Still, five games without one of their top defensemen was going to leave the Harriers in a bad position.
Crawford was a good shot blocker, a good agitator, and a good fighter, but he didn’t always make the smartest plays. Still, what he provided was enough to keep the team more or less together, and with him out, they were fucked. Tanner Clayton was coming along, but he wasn’t really where they needed him to be yet.
And Mickey Krause was having a terrible season so far. Mickey was a German-born player who’d spent a few years developing in the DEL and had been one of the few promising prospects they’d had, but he sure as hell wasn’t delivering now.
Mickey was a hard worker and had so much potential. He was the kind of guy Gavin had hoped would be a building block for the team, a future franchise player. Gavin was sure he still could be, if they could figure out a few of the issues plaguing him and bolster the D-corps around him.
Although quiet and soft-spoken, Mickey was likeable and appeared to get along great with the team. Unfortunately, on-ice, he wasn’t gelling with any of the guys they’d paired him with. He was at his best when he was neutralizing odd man rushes and using his height and long reach to end plays.
But there had been weird gaps in communication with his D-partner. The coaching staff had rotated numerous guys through the position in the hopes of finding someone who was a good fit, but they were all too young, too inexperienced. Krause was simply too tentative, not using his height to his advantage.
They needed to bring in someone who had NHL experience and could bring him out of his shell.
Gavin mentally ran through the rosters of various teams in his head, selecting then discarding possible options before landing on one potential.
Hmm . There was a guy playing for Minnesota who might fit the bill. Rafael Moon was twenty-nine and a pending unrestricted free agent. He was big—both taller and significantly broader than Krause was. And he played with a grit and intensity Gavin liked. Not a fighter the way Crawford was, but a really solid defenseman who wasn’t afraid to use his body to slow down opponents.
The play below was paused for a TV time-out, so Gavin pulled out his phone and studied the guy’s stats. He’d been a low-round draft pick and spent most of his career at the ECHL or AHL level.
But the past few seasons he’d remained at the NHL level and had acquitted himself well until recently.
Hmm . Certainly worth considering.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14 (Reading here)
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37