Page 21

October

Gavin kept telling himself this would get easier.

That one morning he’d wake up and see Zach—at the diner or in his office, at the rink, or at the gym, and his heart wouldn’t race. That his stomach wouldn’t flutter.

But it kept happening.

And after he lost his mind two weeks ago and nearly kissed him again, after their first game, Gavin began to think that maybe it wouldn’t go away.

That was terrifying, because what the fuck was he going to do about it?

He didn’t know.

It was obvious he should talk to Jon about it—he knew he should—but he hadn’t yet. He hadn’t even known how to bring it up, and whenever Jon did, he was as bland as possible and then changed the subject.

Gavin didn’t think he’d really fooled him, but at least he hadn’t forced him to talk about it yet .

“Hey,” Zach said, catching his attention as he flopped down onto the weight bench.

It had also been a whole lot fucking easier before Zach’s classes had started up and his gym schedule had changed. Somehow he always ended up in the staff gym at the exact same fucking time as Gavin.

And well . . .Gavin wasn’t blind.

Zach was very attractive. And when he was sweaty and hot, worked up from physical activity? It was like staring into the sun.

“Hey,” Gavin said, nodding at him. He turned back to the leg press he was using, hoping that Zach would get the memo that he was ready to focus now.

Usually Zach was equally focused in the gym—and Gavin didn’t want to appreciate the results of that, but it was hard not to, these days—but to his surprise, he sauntered over, appearing in the corner of his vision as he began another set.

“You talked to Brody recently?” Zach asked.

“All the time,” Gavin said, grunting, definitely feeling the extra ten pounds he’d slid onto the rack.

He didn’t want to use the phrase sexual frustration, even in his own head, but it was definitely something that sent him to the gym this often and saw him working this hard.

“I mean, about more than just regular hockey shit,” Zach said. He was leaning against the machine now, hip cocked. He was wearing thin basketball shorts, riding high on his thighs, and an old T-shirt he’d cut the sleeves out of.

Gavin could see a lot of skin. Skin he was trying really fucking hard not to look at.

“No, not really, I guess. Is there a problem? Is he okay?” Gavin hadn’t been worried about Brody.

They were winning. The top line was producing at a ridiculous rate, even as Elliott and Mal continued bickering.

The defense was tight. Finn seemed stressed and anxious at points, but overall, seemed to be handling it.

Zach hesitated. “I think so? I don’t know. He seems . . .off to me. Quiet.”

“He’s always pretty quiet,” Gavin offered. At least that was the impression he’d gotten over the last two months.

“Yeah, he is. But I think even quieter the last week.”

Gavin finally finished his set and let out a gust of breath. His quads were burning, in a really good way that almost distracted him from the little flashes of biceps-pecs-abs that he kept trying to ignore.

“You want me to talk to him?” He finally couldn’t put it off anymore and looked up at Zach.

He looked a little worried—that crease between his eyebrows that Gavin wanted to reach up and smooth away—but also really, really good.

Too good.

It was so much easier to compartmentalize these feelings when they were working or Zach was completely clothed or when they were in their respective houses, on the phone at night.

“No, I’ll do it. I think it’ll be better coming from me,” Zach said. “Or maybe I should ask Ramsey.”

“Ask Ramsey. That’s probably the best place to start.”

Zach nodded. “It’s not his hockey. That’s solid. ”

“Agreed,” Gavin said. “I know he’s taking a pretty serious load of classes.”

“He is—you know he’s a bio major, right?”

“Yeah.”

Zach’s expression was a little wistful. “Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t make a mistake, not taking school more seriously when I was here the first time around.”

“You knew what you wanted,” Gavin said. Zach had . He’d been incredibly focused, only seeing college as a necessary steppingstone to the NHL. They’d both worked hard to make his dream a reality.

Was it any wonder how shocked he’d been when Zach had come to him this summer and admitted he wasn’t playing professionally anymore?

“Funny how that changes,” Zach said wryly. “How what we think we want isn’t what we want at all.” His gaze slid over Gavin, the look in his eyes knowing, and Gavin flushed.

After the second aborted kiss, he really should’ve said something to Zach. Something other than I’m sorry anyway. Because that implied . . .well, that he wanted to, but that he couldn’t.

And that’s true. You want to. But you can’t.

It would be better for both of them if he verbalized this line between them and emphasized that he wasn’t ever going to cross it, but Gavin didn’t know how even to start that conversation.

So he just kept . . .not.

“Yeah, I uh . . .thought I wanted to stay in Michigan forever,” Gavin said.

Zach grinned. “No, you didn’t. ”

It was impossible not to join him in smiling, not when he looked like that. “Well, I did , until you showed up.”

Until you offered me a job I couldn’t say no to.

Until we almost kissed and it turned me inside out .

“You’re welcome.” Zach was still smiling smugly. Maybe it shouldn’t be so attractive, but Gavin was having trouble convincing himself of that fact.

Gavin rolled his eyes, even as he was charmed.

“I’m gonna . . .” Zach gestured at the mat behind them.

“Alright,” Gavin said.

He wiped his face and then the machine, taking his time making his way over to the treadmill.

He always did his weights and then cardio, but today, he really regretted this well-established schedule because that meant he was facing the workout mat now and had a front row seat to Zach doing his ab work.

He’d pulled his shirt off, and his chest and his stomach were both rippling with muscle—muscle he’d put on the hard way. Muscle he was working on the hard way, now, sweat dotting his brow and making his skin shine, a siren’s song that Gavin didn’t know how to look away from.

Zach’s abs flexed as he lifted the medicine ball over and over again, and Gavin felt like his tongue must be hanging out. Imagining how they’d feel under his hands. How soft but firm his skin would be, that trail of hair bisecting his abs and arrowing lower, leading towards . . .

Gavin huffed out a frustrated breath .

It was hard to even put one foot in front of the other, nevermind to do it jogging on a treadmill, without killing himself accidentally.

“You good over there?” Zach called over. “You taking it easy today?”

Had he noticed that Gavin had been staring? God, he hoped not. But maybe it would be good, because then Zach might make a move, an obvious move, and that would give Gavin an opportunity to shut this down once and for all.

“Oh yeah. I’m good.” Gavin pushed the speed up, praying he wouldn’t trip over his own goddamn feet.

He couldn’t keep going this way. They couldn’t keep going this way.

Zach chuckled, a little out of breath, and that sent a spike of sexual heat through Gavin again. It wasn’t fair. He liked Zach. He was so easy to hang out with—low-key and funny and smart. Great at hockey. Even better at coaching hockey. He’d not let Gavin down once since he’d started this job.

But he also had to be fucking hotter than the sun.

He wanted to just enjoy Zach without all this other noise .

Maybe no matter how much he didn’t want to, or how awkward it was probably going to be, he should talk to Jon about this. Because the feelings he didn’t want to have kept intruding, kept bleeding into every single everyday interaction.

Someday Gavin was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to contain them. Wouldn’t even be interested in denying them any longer. And that was impossible. He couldn’t do anything about this. He didn’t even want to feel this way.

Had never wanted to feel this way again .

Gavin finished his run and forced himself to look away as Zach worked on his lats, the muscles on his back gleaming as he pulled the bar down.

Grabbed his phone and sent Jon a text. He could duck home between his lunch meeting and practice this afternoon. Normally he might take a therapy call in his office, but there was no way he could talk about this at the rink. Even with his door closed, he couldn’t take the risk.

“See you at practice this afternoon?” Gavin called out.

Zach nodded, not even glancing behind him, and Gavin told himself firmly he wasn’t running away.

But he kind of was.

“So what’s going on?” Jon asked, leaning back in his office chair.

Maybe with other clients Jon was more formal, but for awhile now, Gavin’s sessions with Jon had felt more like chats with a friend than therapy sessions.

“Um, well not much. We’re winning. Things are going good.” Gavin knew he was fucking prevaricating. He’d asked Jon for this session. He needed to just open his mouth and spit it out.

Jon raised an eyebrow and looked unimpressed. “And you ask for a session today , just to tell me everything’s fine?”

Gavin sighed. “It’s Zach,” he admitted.

“You guys having issues?”

“Uh, no. No. The fucking opposite.” Gavin barked out a laugh. “I . . .I like him more than I should. ”

Jon didn’t look surprised at all. And okay, probably he’d known this whole fucking time, and he’d just been waiting for Gavin to break and actually talk about it.

“What’s wrong with that? Assuming it’s not going to cause a problem with the team—”

“It wouldn’t, ever. Swift is more his boss than I am. In fact, I think Swift even set it up that way,” Gavin said. He knew he was still delaying the inevitable.

“Okay, so it wouldn’t be necessarily inappropriate,” Jon said. “What’s the issue?”

Gavin’s jaw dropped. “ What’s the issue ? Are you joking?”

“Gavin,” Jon soothed. “You’re not even forty years old. It’s not a requirement of grief to spend the rest of your life alone.”