Page 5

Gavin awoke on Saturday morning to the sound of insistent beeping. He’d stayed up late working last night, then crashed hard and slept too little, leaving him with a headache lurking on the edge of his consciousness and that groggy feeling he hated.

He silenced the alarm, scrubbing at his face, his mind already whirling with what he had to do today. The ever-present pressure from the team’s ownership and the city of Boston bore down on him as he climbed out of bed and straightened the covers.

He went through his morning routine, prompting the virtual assistant on his phone to read through his agenda as he opened the curtains, the wide windows of his condo revealing the bright pinpricks of Boston high-rises, the sky still inky dark behind them.

He fueled, hydrated, and did his workout in his home gym while he listened to the latest episode of a podcast that talked about growth mindsets. After a quick plunge into the cold tub in his en suite for recovery, the shock of the chilly temperature made him more alert and clear-headed.

Getting dressed and ready was easy enough. He could skip the beard trim this morning and he’d adopted the habit of buying everything in shades of black, charcoal gray, khaki, and white, so it never took him long to pick out an outfit to wear.

Today was easy.

He dressed in a white tee and black joggers for his … meeting? Session? Whatever he called his work with Dakota. Charcoal slacks and a black button-down shirt along with stylish but simple accessories would do for his workday. After tucking them into a garment bag and being sure he had his post-workout protein shake and laptop bag, he was out the door.

Gavin dictated some notes to himself as he drove across Boston to HCI, the sun finally beginning to peep over the horizon, the sky lightening and glowing more golden with every minute that passed.

He greeted the security guard watching over the parking area, then slid into the spot marked with his name. The facility was still mostly dark as he waved his badge at the reader, then stepped inside.

Despite the perpetual exhaustion hanging over him, he liked getting here so early and having the place to himself.

A glance at his watch showed he was a few minutes early to the training, so he took the stairs up to his office on the second floor. His executive assistant, Amelia Nicholson, hadn’t arrived yet—wouldn’t for another hour or so—and his office was dark when he unlocked the door.

He flipped on the light, smiling as he surveyed the room. One entire wall was built of glass, overlooking a balcony that jutted out onto the practice rink below. It was an interesting design—not his choice, the building had been designed before he ever took over this role—but he liked it. Liked that he could watch the players train as he sipped his coffee, making notes on his phone when ideas popped into his head.

But the team wouldn’t arrive for a few hours, and he didn’t have time to linger this morning, not when Dakota was waiting for him downstairs, so he set his soft-sided leather briefcase on his desk chair, hung his coat on the rack by the door, then stepped out of his office.

He found Dakota already in his studio, the overhead lights off, a mellow rose-gold glow from a few salt lamps around the room lighting the space. Gentle instrumental music played in the background and Gavin chuckled to himself as he thought about how much Dakota would probably hate his high-intensity training under the bright lights in his condo’s workout room.

Gavin hovered in the doorway for a moment, watching Dakota as he flowed through some sort of yoga sequence, his movements sinuous and graceful.

Dakota had his eyes closed, his expression peaceful as he lowered to his stomach and lifted his torso, going into a deep backbend. It made his back arch, exposing his throat, his head tipped back, chin pointed at the ceiling.

Gavin knew he should be impressed by Dakota’s strength and flexibility, and he was, but his mind kept sticking on the thought: damn, that’s hot .

He gently rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said.

Dakota tipped his chin down, opening his eyes and smiling. He looked incredibly peaceful. “You’re not interrupting. I was expecting you.”

“Well, here I am,” Gavin said inanely, kicking off his shoes and putting them on the mat. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” Dakota took his time getting out of the pose he’d been in, then gracefully rose to his feet. They were bare and made soft sounds on the mats below him as he padded over to stand in front of Gavin.

He wore snug leggings and a loose, wrapped shirt that twisted and turned around his body in a way that made Gavin idly wonder how he didn’t get tangled up trying to take it off or put it on.

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes.” Gavin scratched the back of his neck. “I think so. What exactly are we doing?”

“Are you able to commit to a full thirty to forty minutes with me?”

“Yes.”

“And just to verify, you’ve spoken to a doctor about this situation? You’ve ruled out migraines or any other serious health conditions?”

“Yes,” Gavin assured him.

Everyone had been wary after the news broke a couple of years ago that Nico Arents’ chronic headaches had actually been due to a non-cancerous brain tumor. Thankfully, he was doing fine and skating circles around half the league now. But Gavin had been a whole lot less dismissive about his headaches since then.

“No migraines, no tumors. My blood pressure and cholesterol were a little high at my last checkup, but I promise, this neck and head thing is nothing but good old stress and tension,” he assured Dakota.

“Then we’re going to begin by working on your feet.”

“My feet?” Gavin glanced down at his socked feet. “Really? Not my neck?”

“No. Your posterior chain is fucked.”

Gavin let out a surprised laugh at the profanity. “I assure you,” he said drily. “My posterior —chain or otherwise—does not get fucked.”

Dakota rolled his eyes. “Well, now I know you’re a top. That comes as no surprise, but?—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin protested, cutting him off.

“It means you have big d—uh, big dude energy that made it abundantly clear you like to be in charge.”

Gavin smothered a laugh. Oh, oh that was hilarious .

Until the comment about the hookup apps the other night, some part of Gavin had expected Dakota to be a little uptight. Prissy, even. And maybe Gavin had been testing him a little, however unintentionally, to see how he’d respond. But it turned out he was funnier, and a lot less tightly wound than expected.

Even if he clearly wasn’t comfortable using the word dick .

Which, Gavin supposed was the smart choice. If someone walked by and overheard their conversation it would seem incredibly inappropriate. It didn’t feel inappropriate but he could see how it might come across that way without context.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “My big dude energy is not above taking some direction from someone else.”

A skeptical look gleamed in Dakota’s eyes and Gavin amended his statement. “At least about fixing my posterior chain issues. Especially since you’re the expert here.”

Dakota looked faintly surprised but Gavin did mean that. He was a lot of things—a workaholic, a bit controlling, sometimes inflexible—but he wasn’t afraid to defer to someone else when it was clear they had more expertise.

That was a lesson he’d struggled with growing up but he’d finally learned it the hard way.

And, despite his initial doubts, he was beginning to respect the work Dakota was doing here.

“Alright then. Please take off your socks and join me on the mats. Feel free to close the door if you feel comfortable.”

Gavin removed his socks, then tucked them in his shoes. He closed the door and when he turned back, Dakota was seated in a comfortable cross-legged position.

Gavin did his best to imitate him, wincing at the pull in his hips. Okay, so maybe he’d gone a little too far in the direction of strength training and neglected his flexibility lately.

Probably didn’t help that he was forty-one to Dakota’s twenty-nine either, but his feelings about ageing were a thought for another day. Turning forty in the midst of a divorce had been brutal and the less he thought about it now the better.

“So, all jokes aside,” Dakota said. “You do understand what your posterior chain is, correct?”

“Yes. The muscles on the back side of my body. Calves all the way up to my neck.”

“Correct. But what a lot of people don’t realize is how much that’s impacted by your feet and ankles. They’re the foundation of your posture, movement, and stability.”

Dakota went through his little spiel, explaining why all of this was important while Gavin did his best to give Dakota his full, undivided attention.

That was one of the insults Rory Decker had hurled at Gavin during their divorce—that even when he was there physically, he was never there mentally —and, well, he couldn’t deny it. Work occupied a large portion of his brain, and he could never seem to turn it off.

“Let’s start in mountain pose,” Dakota said, rising fluidly to his feet.

Gavin’s attempts were far less graceful but, thankfully, Dakota didn’t laugh at him. “How familiar are you with yoga asanas? Or poses, if you’re not familiar with that term either.”

“Uhh.” Gavin waggled his hand back and forth. “Moderately, I guess? I know some of the more common ones though it’s usually the Western names.”

“Okay, then I’ll skip the Sanskrit and use the Western term for each pose by name and describe it. If it’s something you’re already familiar with, you’ll be ahead of things but don’t take it as an insult or that I’m talking down to you, please.”

Gavin nodded.

“For mountain pose, stand upright with your feet hip distance apart, feet planted firmly onto the mat. Take a moment to look down at them and send them some love.”

Gavin glanced at Dakota with a questioning look. “Send my feet some love? Do you have a foot fetish, or something?”

“No,” Dakota said with a faint scoff. “My only interest in them is how they’re supporting you and what we can do to improve that. Many people have parts of their bodies they dislike, and I think it’s worth taking the time to improve those relationships. Besides, it also improves the mind-muscle connection, which as I’m sure you know, is extremely important.”

Gavin nodded, feeling a little chagrined for his teasing. He did know that. “Apologies. Continue.”

“Look down at your feet, thank them for all they do to support you, to carry you throughout your day, and send them some love.”

Feeling a bit foolish but not wanting to insult Dakota and his methods again, Gavin did so. His feet were … fine. He didn’t have any feelings about them one way or another. He had kinda long toes and there was a little hair on the top of his feet. They were neither ugly nor sexy. They did the job. But he dutifully tried to send them some love even if it felt ridiculous.

“Okay, now let’s begin by waking the feet up. Lift your toes, keeping the heel of your foot connected to the mat. Feel free to wiggle the toes, spread them wide, just bring movement into them.”

Gavin lifted his toes and grimaced at the tight feeling in his Achilles tendons and up into his calves.

Dakota shot him a knowing look. “You can feel the tightness, yes?”

He nodded.

“They’re all connected. Every part of your body connects to another. What happens in your feet impacts the way you carry yourself, the way you feel. Your stress about work impacts the way you hold your hips, the way you walk. And all of these ripple outward into other areas of your life. Our bodies are feedback loops but not closed loops. What we put out into the world feeds back into our bodies and vice-verse.”

Gavin considered the idea. He’d never really thought about it in those exact words but that did make sense.

“Now, rock front to back a little, lifting your heels. Okay, now we’re going to stand tall, not collapsing into the hips. Keep your core centered and rotate your shoulders back until you’re in a comfortable, supported posture.”

Gavin did so, and after, they moved onto rolling on the balls of their feet, one at a time, in both directions.

“Your feet might get tired as we go,” Dakota said. “We spend so little time strengthening and stretching them they don’t have the same stamina our other muscle groups do. Be mindful of your breathing. If the sensations get intense or you feel yourself fatiguing, breathe mindfully or even take a break to shake it out or rest.”

The breathing part Gavin was more than comfortable with. It was important for weightlifting, and he did find it helped when his feet began to cramp.

After they were done, Dakota instructed him to shake his feet out and do some more deep breathing before they moved on to pressing the tops of their toes into the mat and rolling them around.

“Now we’re going to stretch the top of our feet. Shift your weight to your right leg.”

Dakota reached out, hovering near Gavin’s right hip. “Are you comfortable with me touching you to guide your posture?”

Gavin nodded.

Dakota’s fingers were warm as he gently pushed at Gavin’s hip. “You’re beginning to collapse here. Focus on your core for a moment, find your stability.”

He did and Dakota let his hand fall away. “Now, move your opposite foot behind you and curl your toes, resting the tops of them on the mat.”

Almost immediately, the arch of Gavin’s foot began to cramp and he stifled a yelp.

“Muscle cramp?” Dakota said, his tone sympathetic.

“Yeah.” Gavin frowned. “Shit that hurts.”

“That tells me you need to be doing a lot more of this.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh. “Probably.”

The next ten minutes or so went much the same way, Gavin wincing at how damned angry at him his feet apparently were and Dakota reminding him to breathe through it, his voice calm and measured, surprisingly soothing.

“If you’re feeling a lot of discomfort,” he said, when Gavin squatted in what Dakota had called a modified frog pose, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he tried not to tip over, “remember, that’s an area going through transformation and healing.”

Gavin had a sudden, dizzying thought, wondering if that was true for other parts of his life.

Was the discomfort he felt watching the team lose in games they should’ve won—their defense collapsing around the net, leaving Jesse or Arkady vulnerable—was that going through transformation? Or did it simply suck?

Was his empty bed, empty condo, empty life?—

“Gavin, you’re holding your breath. I need you to return to your mindful breathing,” Dakota coaxed. “Slow inhales in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Fuck, and he’d thought he had the breathing part down at least. He let out the air in his lungs in a noisy rush, head a little light, trying not to wobble.

“Any pose that’s too intense, feel free to come out of for a moment. Listen to all the signals being sent to you.”

Gavin wondered what signals he was being sent about the team when not a single damned GM seemed interested in trading one of their defensemen and every single hookup Gavin planned fell through.

And then he realized Dakota was talking about the signals his body sent him, and he managed a pained, rueful chuckle to himself before he focused on what Dakota was saying again.

They moved into a kneeling pose next, toes curled against the mat, sending a fresh wave of sweat across Gavin’s skin, his breath a noisy rush in the quiet room as he struggled his way through. Downward dog was easy enough, and he was grateful for the strength in his upper body until Dakota stood and guided his hips upward and he felt the stretch in the backs of his thighs.

He swore, loudly and colorfully, and Dakota’s soft laugh seemed understanding rather than mocking.

Child’s pose was a joke. He couldn’t come close to doing what Dakota did and when Dakota demonstrated some pose where he knelt on his shins, then arched backward, relaxing his back onto a bolster pillow, Gavin was tempted to throw something at his head because how in the fuck were his hips supposed to do that ?

It pulled through the tops of his upper thighs, and he huffed in annoyance when he realized his torso was still practically upright, rather than reclined.

“That’s okay if you can’t reach,” Dakota said, supporting his weight as he tried to lean back farther. “I’ve got you. Just let go. Allow your body to drift backward as far as it is able. Breathe into it.”

“There we go,” Dakota said a minute later, as he guided Gavin upright, patting his shoulder before he let go. “Now we know where your tight spots are.”

“Everywhere?” Gavin huffed.

Dakota smiled at him, plainly amused, though he didn’t say anything, merely instructed him to take a seat with his legs stretched out long on the mat.

In that pose, they worked on their hamstrings, which was frustrating but doable.

But when it came time for Gavin to cross his legs and place the back of his foot against his opposite knee, it came nowhere close. His leg slid to the side, knee thudding against the mat.

“What the hell do I do now?” Gavin grumbled.

Dakota stood, reaching for a blanket and folding it. “Yoga is not about pushing ourselves to the point of pain, Gavin. It is about finding the edge before we reach that point and easing off a little, breathing into the discomfort. We won’t find transformation through brute force, but through surrender.”

Gavin huffed, trying the pose again because surrender was weakness, it was … Dakota tucked a blanket under his knee, taking some of the strain off his hip and Gavin almost cried at the relief.

“There you go. Keep breathing.” The gentle warmth of Dakota’s touch was soothing and Gavin breathed deeply, again and again, until the dizzy, pulling sensation faded and he could move on to the next pose.

All of the hip openers were awful, but he got through them and was surprised when Dakota instructed him to massage his own feet. They were aching and he found sore spots under his arch and at the base of his big toe that made his eyes water.

He was surprised by how damp his T-shirt was by the time Dakota finally guided him to rest on his back, draped over the bolster pillow, legs stretched long in front of him in the final corpse pose.

“Close your eyes,” Dakota instructed.

A moment later, something soft draped over him—a blanket—and Dakota’s words were gentle and soothing as he talked Gavin through more breathing and letting go of tension.

Eventually, he fell silent and Gavin drifted for a while.

When Dakota did speak again, his voice was barely a whisper, and Gavin was still in a dreamy daze as he followed the instructions to shift into a seated position and blink his eyes open.

For a moment, he stared at Dakota who sat cross-legged in front of him. There was a lamp behind him, illuminating his messy hair in a halo around his face, which was dim in comparison.

He looked … otherworldly.

“Thank you for taking the time to do this yoga practice with me today,” Dakota said, holding out his hands.

Uncertain, Gavin held out his own and Dakota clasped them.

“Uhh, you’re welcome.” Gavin’s head still swam and he felt a little cold now that his heart rate had slowed and the sweat had chilled. But also like he was floating.

High, but not in a fuzzy-headed way. A mellow calm he couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced. “That was a lot more intense than I expected.”

“Our bodies get into grooves, into routines,” Dakota said. “It can be very intense to pull them into something new. I’d like you to hydrate really well when you leave, have a small snack, and try to treat yourself gently for the rest of the day.”

“Uhh,” Gavin said because he could manage the first two but the third …

“I said try,” Dakota replied, lips curling up at the corners as he squeezed Gavin’s fingers, then let go. “I know you have important work to do, there’s a game tonight, and then we fly out tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed. He reached for the blanket he’d discarded earlier and pulled it around his shoulders. The warmth and weight of it was nice. “So what now? Am I supposed to do this every day or something?”

“No.” Dakota looked almost amused now. “No, I understand that’s not feasible for you. But if I put together several brief, targeted postures, can you commit to ten minutes in the morning, ten in the evening, and a midday break of five minutes?”

“ Daily ?”

“Yes. Or as many days a week as you’re able. If you aim for every day and only get in four, that’s still four more times than you were doing it before.”

“True. Yeah, I can try,” Gavin said.

“What about aiming for six days a week, plus one twenty-five-to-thirty-minute session of one-on-one work with me?”

Gavin considered it. Did he have the time? Not really. But shit, this did feel good. His head didn’t hurt. In fact, it still felt kind of … floaty at the moment. He really doubted he could manage on his own.

“I’ll try.” His tone was firm.

“Excellent. Then I’ll finish creating a routine with your individual exercises today and you can expect a detailed plan in your inbox tonight.”

“Thank you. Could you send it to my personal email though? Not the one for the organization?”

“Sure.” Dakota sounded vaguely confused. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I … it helps keeps things separate, you know?”

Dakota nodded. “Right. I get that. Let me grab my phone. You can put your contact information in.”

Gavin did so, adding his personal email and cell number along with his various work info.

“That should cover it,” he said, passing the phone back.

Dakota glanced down briefly. “You have two cell phones?”

“Work and personal, yeah.”

“Makes sense,” Dakota said with a soft laugh. “I suppose you don’t want hookup apps mingling with contract signings.”

“No, not so much,” Gavin agreed, rising to his feet, a little surprised by how reluctant he was to leave this warm, dim space.

“Thank you for doing this, by the way,” he added as he tugged on his socks and laced up his shoes. “I know how busy you are as well.”

Dakota glanced up from where he’d been puttering around the room, putting away the bolster pillow and folding the blanket. “You’re welcome.”

“Can I pay you for your time?” Gavin asked.

“No.”

“Are you sure? This was well outside of your scope of duties for the team, and …”

“If the team’s GM is feeling better, that helps him do his job better, which helps the guys play better,” Dakota said firmly.

“True,” Gavin said, but he hesitated, reluctant to leave it at that. “What if I okayed the purchase order for the additional reformers you requested?”

Dakota blinked. “You said there was no budget for it.”

He shrugged. “I can always find it somewhere. And, if not, I can always beg the ownership group for more.”

“You’d do that?” Dakota sounded surprised.

“I was wrong about you and your methods,” he admitted.

“How about this?” Dakota said, stepping closer, tucking his hair behind his ear. “For now, we’ll stick to our agreement, with one addition. If by February, you’re seeing improvements in the metrics you’re tracking and you’re getting fewer headaches, you’ll order the equipment I want.”

Gavin opened his mouth to agree to it but Dakota kept talking.

“And the next time I need some fancy, expensive piece of equipment for my studio, you won’t question the need for it. Because I wouldn’t ask for it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Done,” Gavin said without hesitation, holding out a hand.

“And here I thought you drove hard bargains,” Dakota teased, shaking it.

His palm was warm and soft, but his grip was firm.

“I do,” Gavin admitted with a little smile as he reluctantly let go. “When it’s important to play hardball. But even though I hated every second of doing this today, I feel amazing now. You know your stuff. You’re good at this. And I feel like I got the better end of the deal today.”

He knew damn well what private training sessions cost, and it wasn’t like the equipment would come out of his personal budget.

“Well,” Dakota said, sounding surprised but pleased. “I’m glad to hear it. Hey, by the way, how’s your head feeling now?”

“Uhh, it was hurting when I woke up but a lot better now,” Gavin admitted. “Which is a big relief after days of it nagging at me.”

“No luck with the hookup?” Dakota asked in a sympathetic tone. “It wasn’t the miracle cure we hoped for?”

Gavin huffed. “No idea. I never got the opportunity to test that out. I got jerked around by the one guy I told you about, as predicted. I reached out to a couple of other guys and eventually heard back from them but, uh, I’d already fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of working on my laptop, so … I didn’t see the messages until I woke up at about four A.M. At which point, I wanted to be comfortable and asleep in my own bed, you know?”

“I get that. Well, better luck next time,” Dakota said.

“I’m not holding my breath,” Gavin said with a laugh. “But I appreciate the sentiment. And thank you again. I really needed this today.”

“Good.” Dakota gave him a warm smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”