Page 18

SEVENTEEN

Joey

I’m tucked away in the corner of the hotel bar, giving the guys who’re unwinding with a beer the space to relax without their coach watching them.

Lines are prepped for tomorrow, reports on our affiliate teams are in. There are a couple of young players I’m watching, seeing when they might be ready to come up and play in The Show. But they’re not quite there yet.

Soon though.

Someone will be sick or injured or just need a rest day to prevent an injury, and they’ll get their shot.

My work is done.

I need to go up to bed.

But I’m delaying, knowing that I’m just going to lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

Thinking about Damon.

Ugh.

Dumb as hell. I sigh, down the rest of my beer, and start gathering my papers. There’s nothing to be done about it. I’ll take a long bath, do my best to turn into a prune, and hopefully the soak will make me drowsy enough to drift off.

Not likely.

But we have a skate in the morning and the game in the evening. If I’m not tired enough to sleep tonight, I’ll definitely drop off tomorrow night.

Exhaustion for the win.

I shove everything in my bag, start to toss it over my shoulder.

Only, I don’t make it that far.

Damon’s there.

My heart flutters before I have a chance to lock it down.

And then he’s tossing my bag over his shoulder and turning around, saying, “Come on, Red.”

I blink. Once. Then twice.

But he’s walking away, weaving through the tables and chairs like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Hell, maybe he doesn’t.

But I’m getting really fucking tired of him giving me an order and just expecting me to follow.

Of course, I can’t do anything about that right now. He’s already in the freaking lobby, heading for the elevators, and…my freaking room key is in the bag he commandeered.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter.

But I follow.

Because I have no fucking choice.

I reach him just as the elevator doors slide open with a soft ding. He glances down at me, half his mouth hitched up, then lifts a hand, indicating I should precede him.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I mutter as I step on.

The other half of his mouth curves. “Not something I don’t already know.”

He jabs at a button and since it’s my floor, I don’t comment.

I just keep scowling at him.

“I see you got those walls locked down tight, baby,” he murmurs as we start heading up.

My scowl deepens.

He chuckles, but he doesn’t say anything further. Maybe because he’s an asshole, but probably because the doors have opened and he’s walking down the hall.

I have no choice but to follow.

Something that’s even more annoying.

He turns the corner, moves to the end of the hall, and swipes a keycard.

I pause beside him, hold out my hand. “Give me my bag.”

He doesn’t answer me, just pushes inside his room.

And again, I have no choice but to follow.

Maybe I’ll smother him with a pillow, put us both out of our misery.

Then I sigh, allow the door to close behind me, lean back against it. He doesn’t stop moving, though. Just walks through the room, pulls at the handle on the sliding glass door, and steps outside, taking my bag with him.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

I stand there for a moment then I follow him onto the balcony.

“First of all,” I say as I step through the door, “why the fuck do you get a balcony?”

He sets his bag in the far corner, turns back toward me, his smile a flash of white in the darkness. “Perks of being the big boss.” He settles in a chair—conveniently between me and my bag—and rests his feet on the banister. “Take a load off, Red.”

I exhale and it’s a frustrated sound.

One I know he picks up on because his mouth curves.

But he doesn’t move.

And he doesn’t speak.

And, eventually, I huff out another frustrated sigh and sink down into the other chair.

“You’re feeling vulnerable,” he says after another long moment.

He’s not wrong. Not that I’m going to admit it—not even under pain of torture.

Which…this conversation is.

“I got a glimpse behind the curtain,” he goes on. “I saw shit you didn’t want me to see, and now you’re desperate to put walls up.”

“It’s amusing that you’re talking about walls when you have the strongest set of concrete and barbed wire barriers erected around yourself that I’ve ever seen.”

He lifts and drops one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Maybe I don’t have those anymore.”

I sniff.

“Or maybe it’s that I don’t have them with you .”

My heart squeezes. “That’s not true.” Still, I can’t shove down the hope blooming in my belly.

Screech!

My body jerks as he drags my chair closer to his.

“Stop doing that . It’s really freaking annoy?—”

Then his face is in mine, blue eyes blazing. “You want the truth?”

“I…” My throat is tight but I manage to squeeze out, “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, one hand lifting, pressing lightly to my cheek. “Do you want the truth of why I’ve always avoided this?”

“Avoided what?”

His eyes grow hotter. His impatience grows. “Avoided being alone with you, avoided anything that wasn’t professional, avoided anything that would bring me closer to you.”

My lungs spasm. “Why do you mean?”

“I know you want me,” he murmurs. “I’ve seen it in your eyes, felt it in your body, and part of the reason it’s so damned hard to keep my distance.

“But you’ve come over to my house,” I whisper.

“The other coaches were there,” he says. “And when they weren’t, there was always something I had to get back to, most often Kylie, who I wouldn’t blow off.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I stayed away because I didn’t trust myself. Because I knew I couldn’t be open to something with you. It’s irresponsible. It pushes boundaries I shouldn’t push. And I knew I couldn’t be the man you deserved, the man you needed. I’m too broken, too damaged, too closed down, too dangerous?—”

“Damon—”

“But from the first time I saw you,” he says, talking over me, “I wanted you. Then I got to know you and I wanted you more. And yeah I told myself what you needed was anyone but me, yeah I know I’m not good for you. But then you told me you were empty, baby?—”

I inhale sharply.

His fingers flex on my jaw. “You shared what you shared and you told me you were empty .”

My exhale is just as sharp.

“And so…everything changed.”