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DAMIEN

A WEEK LATER—THE FIREHALL FUNDRAISER

I ’d been busy all week preparing the summer camp schedule; finalizing the email to the team, sending out the workshop invitations to the pro players and their agents, and working with the school’s public relations office to get the press announcement ready.

Which was going to happen formally at tonight’s Hot Shots Firehall Fundraiser.

Keeping busy was good because with the regular season over, boredom was setting in. Any time after a long season or a big win was always a downer. Not only for the players, but for me too. And after the rally and the flurry of interviews with media about our championship win, things got quiet.

I had too much time to think and it wasn’t all about hockey.

Ever since that night in Chicago, I couldn’t get the conversation with Selwin out of my head.

I couldn’t get Silas out of my head. It had never happened to me before with any of my players.

No way. I had strict rules about fraternizing with students or anyone I coached.

To be honest, I’d never been so much as tempted before.

Now I found myself hitting the gym every night to burn off this unsettling and out-of-league preoccupation.

My libido, which had been all but dormant, was suddenly out of hibernation.

Only, it wasn’t about a woman, but a guy.

I hadn’t seen that coming. I hadn’t seen him coming. And it was too late.

No, I could fix this. I needed a change. A weekend away. Selwin was right; a vacation was in order. I’d fly to New York for a weekend and resolve my problem. I needed to get laid as soon as possible. Or maybe there’d be someone here, tonight? Definitely. Why wait another week or two?

I needed distraction and I needed it now.

Adjusting my cufflinks one last time, I glanced at my reflection in the mirrored hallway. When I played pro, I wore a suit every game day. Now, I hardly ever wore one. This classic tux wasn’t new, but it was dressier than anything I owned. Hopefully, it wouldn’t get ruined like my last one.

Don’t even go there.

Unbidden, a vision of me standing in a wet shirt in front of Silas popped into my head. Only, I wasn’t the only one who was wet, and he wasn’t spraying me with champagne…

No. Fuck, no.

I entered the packed ballroom, nodding at several of my colleagues along the way, and moving through the room with a determined stride. Determined to get to the bar, that is. No dirty martinis, though, extra or otherwise. That’s what got me into this trouble to begin with.

Once I had a glass of red wine in hand, I headed for my table in the center of the room and joined the mayor of Sutton, Edwin Lane, along with Dave, Nora, and several local and state businesspeople.

There was the usual introductory chit chat, and then the mayor and Nora took off into the crowd to meet with reporters.

After a fortifying sip of my drink, I gave in to temptation.

I glanced around the room, looking for my team.

Looking for one defenseman in particular.

The Cougars had several tables at the front of the room, and it looked like every player was in attendance, including Silas.

I did a double take, hardly recognizing him.

I’d never seen him in a tuxedo before. Only, his tie was undone, and so were the top buttons on his white shirt.

I could see the intricate floral tattoos that decorated his chest and neck.

His long blond hair was tied up in a bun, and fuck, he was goddamn sexy.

Sexy? Get hold of yourself, Coach.

“Damien.”

I startled at the sound of Dave’s voice and nearly spilled my drink. Slowly, I placed the glass on the table and turned to look at my friend.

“Jeez, jumpy much?” Dave asked, shaking his head.

“Sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.” I paused, trying to think of a reason that had nothing to do with me lusting after one of my players. “I mean, I’m thinking about this announcement. You know me and speeches.”

Dave’s easy smile appeared as he took the seat beside me.

“Of course,” he replied. “I still loathe the public speaking part of my job. It never gets easier.”

“Exactly.”

“No date?” he asked me.

“No.” I shook my head. “But I was thinking of heading out once the dinner’s over.”

“You need a wingman?”

“I need a whole freaking team at this point.”

Speaking of teams, I glanced around and caught sight of Silas again.

Fuck, stop doing that. Stop.

“Let’s do it.” Dave nodded and raised his glass.

I did the same and took another long sip of my wine.

“Are you sure?” I paused and lowered my voice. “What about Nora? I thought you and her, you know?—”

“It’s not for lack of interest. But she’s my boss, she’s off limits,” Dave added then rubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, I shouldn’t have said that out loud. That sounds hot.”

“Hot, but potentially catastrophic.”

Remember that.

“Thanks for the reality check, Damien. I can always count on you.”

Hah.

“I think your boys are getting rowdy.”

“What?” That snapped me out of my daze. “What are you talking about?”

“Rowland. It looks like the party’s getting started at one of the Cougars’ tables. They’ve got the rowing club there too.”

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the guys being their usual boisterous selves. Jace was talking loudly, waving his hand in the air and then clutching tight to Axel, leaning over to give his boyfriend a kiss. And yes, there were several students I didn’t recognize, presumably the rowers.

“Nothing unusual going on there,” I replied. “But that reminds me. I better go over and give them the news about the training camp before I give my speech.”

“I’m going to grab another drink before dinner starts,” Dave added. “You want anything?”

“I’m good for now, but thanks.”

Dave wandered off while I emptied my glass, reached up to straighten my tie, and took a deep breath. Standing up, I put on my iciest, most professional mask, and made my way around the various tables until I reached my target.

There was an empty seat near Axel but as I was about to sit down, a napkin hit my chest. I glanced up and realized the napkin was thrown by the one person I was trying to avoid. I was annoyed, but also grateful for the distraction.

“Silas,” I bit out and glared at him.

“Nice fit,” Silas commented. “But where’s your whistle?”

Everyone at the table laughed at his comment.

“I don’t think you want me to tell you where you can find it,” I retorted, making all the players laugh harder. “Are you done now?”

He held his hands up in mock surrender.

Ignoring the urge I had to keep bantering with him, I went straight into my pitch about the summer training camp and got a few interested questions.

Once I was done, I wished them all a good night, stood up, and headed back to my table.

Done. See, I can handle being around him. It’s no problem. I’m fine.

Okay, my hands were shaking, and I was sweating something fierce, but it was pre-speech nerves. It had nothing to do with Silas.

I was halfway to my table, safety in sight, when someone tapped my shoulder.

A shiver ran up my spine, and I didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind me.

“Hey,” I managed to whisper as I turned to face Silas.

With more and more people crowding into the ballroom, there was hardly any room to manoeuvre, never mind a proper distance. We were standing way too close, and when I got jostled, I accidentally reached for Silas’s arm to steady myself.

“Sorry.”

I yanked my hand back.

“No worries. There’re too many people in here for my liking.”

I smiled at his put-out tone.

“Was there something you needed?” I asked, swallowing hard. “I mean, about the program?”

“Is it really open to any of us?” he asked me.

“Of course. I’ve already sent out invites to several pro players for the workshops. That kind of mentorship is what’s going to set this program apart.”

“I want in, Damien.”

Goddamn it, he shouldn’t call me by my first name. I liked it way too much.

“You need to apply like everyone else, Silas,” I stated, crossing my arms, needing some kind of barrier, any kind.

“I will. But I’m telling you, I want in,” Silas repeated, his eyes imploring mine. “I need this. I think it’s going to give me that edge that I’ve been missing.”

The blunt way he spoke, his ambition, it made my blood race. Fuck, I needed to get gone.

“It means three days a week,” I insisted. “It means a lot of time, commitment, and hard work.”

His deep brown eyes never wavered.

“I can handle it.”

I didn’t know if I could.

Silas

“I’ve got to prepare for my speech,” Damien announced with a clipped voice. “Enjoy your dinner.”

I watched him stalk off into the crowd, his back rigid, his hands fisted, while I stood there like an idiot staring at him.

Something was up. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t like him.

Was it due to the event? Giving speeches was part of Damien’s job, but with all the press tonight there was added pressure.

I was feeling the pressure too, but mainly in my pants.

Jesus, I’d nearly swallowed my tongue when he’d tumbled forward and grabbed my arm. The guy was intense, in more ways than one, and I wasn’t immune. That tux he had on was cut perfectly for his form, but I still preferred him in that three-piece suit, soaking wet, over anything else.

Go back to your table and cool off.

Right.

Stop thinking about your smoking hot coach.

The sooner this dinner was done, the better. I’d been here since four and wearing a suit for hours was killing me. Not literally, of course, but still, how long was this event going to last? I was already itching to rip this jacket off and the button down too.

When I made it back to our table, Ethan was halfway through telling one of his ridiculous frat stories and everyone was hanging on his words.

I didn’t know if he was bullshitting or telling the truth, but knowing Ethan, it was probably a mix of both.

I wasn’t paying attention at that point because I was too busy replaying Damien’s words in my head and wondering why I was so hung up on them.

On them, and him.

I needed more than a drink to get me through this night.

“Who wants to hit a bar once the auction’s done?” I asked. “All those twenty-one and over raise your hands.”

Four of my teammates put up their hands, plus one of the Sutton U rowing team.

“You’re gonna get laid tonight, right?” Ethan smile was as cocky as ever. “Pick up a hot girl that’ll blow your mind and your?—”

I shook my head.

“Not exactly.”

I don’t know if it was the fact that I’d come out to my brother recently, the alcohol in my veins, or the excitement over summer training camp, but suddenly, I was done hiding.

“I want to tell you guys something first,” I continued, glancing at Finn.

“Go on,” Finn replied with a smile.

“So, the thing is… I’m gay,” I blurted out.

No one at the table stopped talking. Or stared. Or did anything to suggest they were shocked by this news.

“Okay,” Finn replied and took a sip of his drink.

“Okay?” I repeated.

“Yeah. That’s cool.”

I looked around the table to find nothing but smiles.

“Right.” Ethan leaned forward. “So, you’re going to pick up a hot guy to blow your?—”

“Ethan,” I warned.

“What? You came out to us. Can’t I say that?” He looked around the table. “My next question is, do you get laid with that beard?”

“It won’t be a problem,” I countered with a dirty grin.

“I want to come with you,” Ethan urged. “Please, please, let me be your wingman. Please.”

“You?” That comment came from Jett, one of the rowing crew, who gave Ethan an incredulous look. “Yeah, right. You look eighteen, never mind twenty-one.”

“Hey! I’m in my twenty-first year, fuck you very much. And I’m goddamn hot. I’ll have guys climbing all over me.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s way too much ego talking,” I replied with a chuckle. “Second, do you want guys all over you?”

“Sure, I can handle it. I’m a master flirter. I’ve got your back.”

“Jesus, why does that scare me?” I muttered.

“You’re worried that all the sexy guys will want me and not you.” Ethan smirked.

“Fuck off.”

“I only call it as I see it.”

“Stop talking!” Jett called out.

Ethan placed a napkin over his right hand and held it up in Jett’s direction in a discreet, but meaningful way.

“Wait, are there gay bars in Sutton?” Ethan asked. “Is that where we’re going?”

“Not that I know of. And we’re not going anywhere. I usually go to Burlington.”

“Ooh. Give us the dirty deets. Come on, spill.”

I turned to Finn. “Please, make him stop.”

“Like I have control over Ethan’s mouth?” Finn rolled his eyes.

I glanced at Ethan. “You’re not coming with us, no matter where we go. If we go.”

“But it’ll be so much more fun if I’m there.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“And?”

This time, instead of a napkin, I grabbed a roll and lobbed it at Ethan’s head.