Page 5

Cross didn’t get up as the blond approached their table. For one thing, he knew his wide shoulders looked more intimidating sitting down than showing off his lack of height. For another, fuck that guy.

Tyler paused by the empty chair, eyeing Cross. “This man’s mine.” He jerked a thumb at Rusty. “Go chat up someone else.”

“He’s here with me,” Rusty said.

Tyler raised a manicured pale eyebrow. “Trying to make me jealous, babe? Of him ?”

Wow, he is a loser. Cross tipped his chin up. “Don’t call him babe. He said you’re through. Time to bow out.”

Tyler glared at him, then turned to Rusty. “What does he mean, we’re through? You cheating on me?” His voice rose.

“I’m not cheating.” Rusty flinched, glanced around, then waved at the empty chair. “Sit down.” When Tyler didn’t move, he added, “Please.”

Cross winced but said nothing, even when Tyler smiled. This was Rusty’s call.

Once Tyler was seated, he squinted up at Rusty. “You invited me here, you gonna at least get me a drink?”

Rusty bit his lip, then said, “I guess.” Cross noticed he didn’t ask what Tyler wanted, just headed to the bar like he knew.

Tyler smirked at Cross. “He’s an obedient boy.”

Cross decided this was his moment, with Rusty gone, to make his position clear.

He leaned close and lowered his voice. “Listen up. Rusty’s too polite to make a scene and too broke for lawyers, but I have lawyers, I have money, and I have nothing but time.

” The last was a white lie, but he could pay people who had time.

“He broke up with you. Walk away now. You keep giving Rusty a problem, and I will fix it, and you.”

“Is that some kind of threat?”

“It’s a promise.” Cross sat back as Rusty, over at the bar, accepted a glass from the bartender and headed their way.

“Here.” Rusty set the drink in front of Tyler and lowered himself to the edge of his seat, scooting his chair farther toward Cross.

Tyler sipped slowly, muttered, “Second-best whiskey,” then downed the shot. His green eyes glittered as he turned to Rusty. Cross assumed those were contacts. Too startling to be real. Tyler said, low and hard, “You and me, kid. We’re going places together. You promised.”

“I never promised anything.”

“Sure you did, and I believed you. Took it seriously. Took us seriously.” He flicked a look at Cross. “So maybe we had a little argument. There’s no need to drag a stranger into it.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Cross said. “I’m his boyfriend, you’re the ex. What will it take to get that through your head?”

“Uh-uh.” Tyler raised his stupid eyebrow again. “If he’s your boyfriend, why was he out fucking me? Does not compute.”

“You were the old news. I’m the rebound.

” Cross leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, intentionally showing off his thick biceps.

Hockey players tended to focus more on lower body strength than upper, but Cross put in the time on weights and he hoped Tyler took the pose in the spirit it was meant.

Rusty tossed Cross a quelling look, then cleared his throat to get Tyler’s attention back on him. “Listen, Tyler. You need to quit calling me and don’t come around my work anymore. I don’t have money, I’m not interested, I don’t have anything you want.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, baby boy.” Tyler ran a finger around the rim of his shot glass. “You were a bit clumsy when we got together but now?” He grinned. “You’ve got a lot of what I want. Have you seen your ass?”

“Uh—”

Cross felt a flash of irrational anger at the idea Tyler had seen Rusty naked, had been allowed to touch him. He snapped, “How many times does he have to say ‘fuck the hell off’ for you to get the message?”

Rusty frowned at him, and Cross mimed zipping his lips. But it was hard to watch this jerk give Rusty trouble. Cross was glad the kid had called him.

Tyler shrugged, going back to eyeing Cross. “You said you have money. You gonna try to pay me off?”

Rusty turned to him. “When did you say that?”

“While you were at the bar,” Cross admitted. “But you know what, Tyler? It’ll be a cold day in hell before you get your hands on any of it.”

“I’m not for sale anyhow. You wouldn’t want me to take a bribe to give you up, Rusty, would you?” A nasty smirk crossed Tyler’s lips.

Cross managed not to clench his fists, but it was hard. Those lips would look better punched in! The urge to violence surprised him, because he was usually good at getting his opponents to take the penalty. He had a very long fuse. Maybe not so much around Rusty.

Tyler had no idea what this young man had been through. The asshole wasn’t good enough to lay one single finger on Rusty, and Cross would have no hesitation making that very clear the moment Rusty asked him to.

Rusty sighed. “I just want you to leave me alone. We’re through.”

Tyler pushed back his chair. “I’m not done with you. You think for a bit, think about how good we are together. Muscle-boy can’t give you anything I don’t do better.”

“Go away,” Cross growled.

Tyler smirked and stood smoothly. “I’ll be in touch, kid.”

As Tyler made his way to the door, Rusty slumped in his chair. “Fuck. That didn’t go well.”

“He’s delusional.” Cross pulled out his phone to show he was recording. “At least we have it all on video.”

“None of that’s illegal, though. Just annoying.”

“Might help if he keeps it up and you need a restraining order.” He stopped the recording.

“Unfortunately, this probably can’t be used in a court.

Oregon’s a two-party state for recording and he didn’t consent.

A restaurant might be considered a public place where privacy doesn’t apply, but I’d have to ask a lawyer. ”

“I don’t want to get a court involved.” Rusty looked miserable. “He hasn’t really done anything.”

“Still, it’s one more option.” Cross really wanted to erase that look from Rusty’s eyes. He didn’t deserve this on top of everything else he’d handled in the past year.

Rusty was special. In those first days last summer, after the loss of his brother, his family, and his trust in his coach, he’d been silent and hollow-eyed.

He’d worked hard on the ranch, and even harder on the rink, as if trying to muscle his life back under control.

Cross had wanted to support everyone, from Scotty to Rusty’s teammate Dale who’d shared the hostage experience with him, but Rusty maybe most of all, because of how alone he’d seemed.

Sometimes, he’d pulled Rusty into an over-the-top celly on the ice with hugs and back slapping, even if all the kid had done right was muscle Scott off the puck, because Rusty looked like he needed someone’s arms around him.

Even just a hockey buddy ten years older than him.

Casey had put Rusty in touch with an online counselling service for low-income folks, when he refused to take money from any of them, and maybe it’d helped.

Or maybe it was just time and work and character, but by the end of the summer, the boy who’d almost buckled under harsh blows had become a man who said, “I know I can make it and I’m going to give it my best shot,” hopped into a rickety truck, and drove two thousand miles to do just that.

Rusty didn’t deserve to have Tyler making him doubt himself now. Cross offered, “Hey. I could have my lawyers look into him, track down his past? Guy like that, I bet he has some skeletons in his closet that we could use.”

“No! Don’t do that.” Rusty chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t want to use your money or your connections or whatever. Just, I appreciate you being here with me. You made it easier for me to blow him off.”

“Glad I could help.” Cross regretted making the lawyer offer out loud, because now that Rusty had said no, he couldn’t bring in an investigator under the table.

Although… If he casually mentioned Tyler’s name to his family security director, as someone Cross might have to interact with in the future, the background check would happen without him having to make the request. He could tell Rusty it was all part of the sucky side of being wealthy.

Overzealous security. Not his decision. Yeah, that could work.

He said, “For now, let me get you another Pepsi. You can tell me how your season’s going.” He’d kept a casual eye on the Gryphons, but not as close as he might’ve.

“I should head home.” Rusty still looked miserable. “Game tomorrow.”

“Evening?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you have time. Stick around for a bit.” When Rusty began to shake his head, Cross leaned toward him and set a hand on Rusty’s jean-clad knee.

Big mistake. He pulled back immediately, but the sense-memory of powerful muscle and body heat lingered in his palm.

“I drove two hours to get here. I don’t want to get right back in my car. ”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Still, Rusty hovered in his seat, leaning forward.

“Plus,” Cross pointed out. “There’s a chance Tyler’s out there, waiting, watching, ready to cream his jeans at the sight of you running out as soon as he was gone. Making it all about him.”

Rusty glowered. “What should we do?”

“Hang out here for, like, an hour, and then leave as if nothing’s on our minds. All smiles. This is a date, after all.”

“All right.” Rusty sat back and lifted his empty glass. “I’ll get refills.”

Cross was going to offer, but then a thought occurred to him. “Great. Make mine a Coke this time.”

When Rusty had his back turned, going to the bar, Cross used a napkin to scoop up the shot glass Tyler had used and stuck it in his pocket.

He’d leave a table tip to cover the theft, but fingerprints might be useful.

For that casual background check his overzealous security was going to force on him.

Fuck, he was lying to himself. Whether Rusty liked it or not, Cross was going to find out all he could about Tyler.

He looked up to watch Rusty returning and smiled. “Thanks. Now, tell me about your team. The good, the bad, and the fucking ugly. Any chance you’ll make the playoffs this year?”

“We’re kinda fucked.” Rusty wrinkled his nose, as he resumed his seat. “Our offense sucks.” He began detailing all the things the Gryphons were doing wrong, and while he didn’t look happy, at least his mind was on hockey and not Tyler.

Cross would take that as a win.