Page 15

Coach takes us right past the locker room door, to one more door only a few feet away from the tunnel which leads to the arena proper.

"This is your office," he says. "This is attached to the gym the guys use, and you'll share the space with one other physical therapist, Frankie. She'll be the one traveling with us to away games since you'll be here for home games. "

He opens the door and steps to the side to let me look around.

The space is clean. Sterile. There are white walls with a mix of motivational quotes and biology posters.

A row of tables with navy mattresses sit to the right.

Light exercising equipment like yoga balls and small weights are placed neatly to the left.

A set of three stairs are against the back area, next to a floor-to-ceiling mirror.

"This is…Wow."

It wasn't quite so put-together last time I saw the room. They were still moving things around and getting ready for the season to start. It looks amazing.

"I'm glad you like it," Coach says. He glances at his watch.

"It's about time to meet the team. Let's get going.

I'd like to introduce you to one of the players specifically.

He's one of our seniors this year and is getting his degree in Sports Medicine as well.

I brought up the possibility of him shadowing you and Frankie from time-to-time, and he seemed enthusiastic. "

"Happy to help," I smile.

He pushes the door to the locker room open and we're greeted with laughter and chatter. The volume is what you'd expect from a locker room full of college guys on the first day of a new season. The excitement is contagious.

"Hey, Coach!" someone yells and everyone follows suit. All eyes turn to us. Well, probably to Coach, but I'm standing next to him so I see a few eyes flick my way.

"Everyone, settle down!" I glance at coach and see his head moving slightly, like he's taking count of who is and isn't here. "Where's Nagy?"

The name piques my interest. Nagy. Gabe's last name.

Surely, it's someone different. I know he goes to this college —kind of hoped I'd run into him once or twice— but maybe it’s a cousin of his or something. He’s always talking about how big his family is, but has never mentioned hockey in all the times we've talked.

"I'm here Coach!" A very familiar voice calls across the locker room.

Instinctually, my head whips toward the sound.

I watch as if in slow motion as none other than Gabe, the man who held me in a rocking chair while I slept —the man I sucked off in a restroom designed for Littles— rounds the corner in nothing but a pair of pants.

His hair is dripping, and he has a towel slung over his shoulder.

His muscled chest and miles of smooth skin are on full display.

I bite back the feeling of jealousy that everyone can see him like this.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away on the ice before everyone else showed up, and I have class at eleven. Couldn't exactly stay sweaty all day."

“Show off!” One of the other players says and pushes Gabe’s shoulder playfully. Gabe retaliates by reaching over and smacking him on the back of the head.

“You’re just jealous I’m the better player, Mason.”

“Save it for the games,” Coach says, stopping their chirping from escalating.

Gabe finally looks up and our eyes lock.

A range of emotions show on his face: recognition, confusion, shock.

His eyes dart between myself and Coach. His lips part, like he's about to say something, but Overton beats him to it.

I give myself one more second before looking at the rest of the room.

I start counting heads while the coach talks, introducing me and letting them know what I'll be doing for the season.

There are twenty-five men, a full roster.

Some look fresh-faced while others seem a few years older and more comfortable in this room.

Gabe sits down on the edge of a bench next to a guy who’s about his size.

There's a small elbow jab between them, which I only catch because I'm watching his every move.

"Justin, do you want to add anything?"

I didn’t pay attention to what Coach said. I look at him for a second, swallow, and then face the crowd of men. I feel like I'm a new student, even though I know I'm at least five years older than any of them. Not that that matters with Gabe, my boyfriend…My Daddy.

God, what did I get myself into?

"Um." I stammer and clear my throat twice. I talked Owen through his almost-meltdown this morning, I can talk myself through my own. "I'm excited to be here and work with all of you. I'm also excited to be working in a place that doesn't involve your Arizona sun."

That gets a round of chuckles from most of them, and I sigh in relief. My eyes flick to Gabe on instinct once more. He smiles and gives me the barest of nods. His silent way of saying I did a good job. I'll take it.

"Okay, well, I'm going to get some stuff together,” Overton wraps us up. “We’re not gearing up today, but we are running some plays and drills. I'll see everyone out there in ten minutes."

Everyone shouts at the same time, “Yes, Coach!”

I don't know if I'm supposed to be following Coach or not, but I'm greeted by a few of the players immediately after Coach steps away.

Everyone is nice and asks genuine questions to get to know me.

Nothing deep, but I do let them know I have a five-year-old who started school today and that, for the most part, I won't be traveling with them for games.

After five minutes, they all start heading out of the locker room.

Without looking, I know that Gabe is hanging back .

When it's finally just the two of us in the room, he stops pretending to look through his locker and turns to face me. I rub my hand up and down my opposite arm. It's a nervous habit.

"So," Gabe begins. He smirks, and I can tell by his tone that whatever he says next is going to be sarcastic, "I guess we never hit the 'what do you do for work' portion of our talks."

I laugh, pushing out all the nerves. The locker room is getting cold quickly without all the bodies in here. I fold my arms across my chest. "I guess so. I'm surprised you never mentioned you were on the hockey team."

He shrugs. "I love the game, don't get me wrong, but it's not my whole life. Not like some of the guys on the team this year. I prefer to identify myself in other ways."

Daddy. He means as a Daddy.

"Um, so, what are we supposed to do?" I don't know where we go from here. This is…unexpected.

Gabe cocks his head. "What do you mean?"

I gesture around us. "I'm working for the team you play on, Da- Gabe." Woah. That almost slipped out way too easily.

The look on his face tells me he caught my almost slip-up. "It doesn't have to change anything. It's not like you're the team’s coach."

I worry my bottom lip and cast my eyes down. This is my first big job as a physical therapist. I've worked my ass off the last several years to finish my degree and secure my license. I took this job to give Owen the best life I could give him. I can’t jeopardize that.

A finger tugs at my bottom lip, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. I glance around, but we're still alone. Coach's office is next door. He could walk back in at any moment, though. I think Gabe senses my hesitation and drops his hand .

"We'll figure it out, okay?" He turns around and grabs a hoodie from his locker. "Here, take this. It's cold out there and I'm assuming you didn't bring your own."

Just as I'm taking the hoodie from him, Coach walks around the row of lockers.

I drop my hand, still holding the fabric and we both step away from each other.

I didn't even realize how close we were standing.

Gabe gives me a concerned look, but Coach speaks before either of us can come up with an excuse why we're both still here alone.

"Oh, great. You two have met,” Coach says with a smile. “Justin, this is Gabriel Nagy. He’s the senior I was telling you about earlier.”

“Come on Coach; you’re going to make me blush if you keep talking about me.” I laugh along with Coach, but a pang of jealousy hits me that Gabe —my Daddy— is jokingly flirting with another man in front of me.

I know he’s only playing, but still. He’s my Daddy.

Overton ignores him and looks at me. “I’d like Nagy to shadow you here and there. He’s going for Sports Medicine as well, so getting some first-hand experience will be great for him. If you’re okay with it.”

I avoid looking at Gabe for fear that all my thoughts will show and Coach will know. Would I like an excuse to spend more time with him? Yes, it isn’t even a question. Except Coach doesn’t know we’re dating, and I don’t want to jeopardize anything if there’s a rule against it.

I’ve uprooted my life —Owen’s life— to be here. I can’t let anything risk what we’re building together. Not even the man who has turned my whole life upside down in barely a handful of days. Even if I really like him.