Page 3

Chapter 3

Finn had spent the last few hours contemplating how to convince Jacob’s no to become a yes .

He had envisioned meeting Jacob a lot of ways. Jacob opening his door, a flat stare, probably not very happy at Finn just showing up, unannounced.

He had not expected a naked Jacob Braun, eyes closed, steam curling around his bare chest, in a hot tub in the middle of the fucking forest.

Finn stopped abruptly, wincing at the sound of a twig breaking under his foot.

He was still going to do this. The hot tub and the surge of heat at the sight of the man weren’t going to change anything. But he’d still wanted a moment to . . .well, to collect himself. To re-tailor his approach to this new situation.

But then Jacob’s eyes opened and his gaze pinned Finn in place.

Shit.

He wasn’t going to get a moment.

He wasn’t even going to get a second, because Jacob was rising from the tub and holy fuck , as droplets streamed down his body, Finn was pretty sure he was naked. All the way down . . .

The water was lapping at his lower abs when he stopped abruptly, like he’d just realized he was about to give Finn a free show.

A show you’d like very much to see.

He’d always thought Jacob Braun was attractive; he’d need to be blind to not see that even though Jacob was retired now, he was still crazy fucking hot.

Finn’s pulse accelerated as Jacob’s dark brows slammed together. He didn’t look happy Finn was here, in his backyard. Of course, he hadn’t said that he wasn’t happy, but did he have to?

He hadn’t said anything at all. But then, neither have you.

“I . . .uh . . .”

Jacob’s frown deepened.

Not a great first attempt.

Finn tried again. “I’m sorry—I should’ve—”

“Should’ve?”

Finn grimaced. “Shouldn’t have come here like this. I should’ve—”

“Shouldn’t have come at all? Yeah, how about we try that one?” Jacob said dryly. He settled back into the hot tub, and Finn knew he was being dismissed.

He didn’t want to be dismissed. Before he’d realized the precarious position Jacob was in, he’d been beyond determined to convince Jacob to change his mind.

Was that possibly harder now? Yes, it was.

But that didn’t change any of the fundamentals.

Finn still wanted Jacob to coach him.

Finn still needed Jacob to coach him.

So instead of leaving, he pushed forward, heading towards the small open gazebo over the hot tub.

Jacob watched him as he walked closer, not saying a word, but his eyes following him with intent.

When Finn got to the edge of the deck, he stopped. Cleared his throat.

“What happened to shouldn’t have come at all? ” Jacob asked calmly.

“I came here to ask you a question and I knew I couldn’t just not ask, even if I . . .uh . . .interrupted your . . .um . . .your private time.”

Jacob’s eyebrow lifted. “A guy can’t get naked in his own hot tub on his own goddamn property?”

“ Obviously , yes.” Finn didn’t retreat, but he did reposition. “I am sorry I interrupted uh, your private time. That wasn’t my intention.”

Jacob’s arms spread out onto either side of the edge of the tub, skin damp and rippling with muscle.

Finn swallowed hard. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Jacob wasn’t hot—if Finn wasn’t attracted—if Jacob wasn’t naked .

But Jacob was hot, Finn was attracted, and Jacob was definitely naked.

Jacob didn’t seem all that angry anymore. More amused. “You walked into my backyard, which does have a fence, by the way, so I’m unsure what your intention was.”

“I needed to talk to you. And when I knocked nobody answered, but I did hear the music and I thought—”

“You thought you’d just wander down and see what I was up to?”

“Uh, well, sure? And if you really want to be sure that fence is enough, maybe build it a bit higher next time.”

Jacob picked up his wineglass and sipped the dark red liquid. “So what was important enough for you to jump my fence?”

“Coach me.”

Jacob didn’t look surprised. “I told you no already. Meant it too.”

“You have to,” Finn said. Begged, more accurately.

For the first time since he’d shown up unceremoniously in Jacob’s backyard, he actually looked annoyed. “Oh, I do?”

Okay, he probably shouldn’t have phrased it that way.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever met who was largely unimpressed by my father. I need—I want— to know how you do it. I want to know how you never seemed to falter. How you were always able to shake off someone scoring on you and re-focus.”

“There’s lots of mindset coaches out there,” Jacob reminded him. “That’s not me.”

“I know, I’ve been to them. I changed coasts. I changed colleges. I even fucking changed positions—”

“You’re a natural goalie. Morgan wasn’t wrong about that,” Jacob said.

And maybe that should’ve made him feel better, but it didn’t. Not really.

“It’s not enough,” Finn said. His throat felt tight but he managed to get the words out anyway. That was it, laid bare.

It wasn’t enough. Maybe it wouldn’t ever be enough.

“I wish I could help you, but I can’t.” Jacob’s face closed over, but that wasn’t enough either. Not enough to make Finn stop.

He wanted this too badly—not just for his father, anymore, but for him— and over the last few weeks, ever since he’d surprised himself by asking Jacob to coach him, he’d become convinced that the only way to accomplish every goal he’d set for himself was to get Jacob on board.

“You can, you’re just saying no because . . .”

“Because?” Jacob asked, darkly amused. “Oh, please, enlighten me, kid.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-one. And I want a career like you.”

“Even if my career got cut short?”

“When you were on the ice, nobody could touch you, ever . Not even my dad. He hated you because you were better than he was.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Jacob said wryly.

“Yes—”

“No,” Jacob interrupted, his voice firming. “No. He wasn’t better or worse than me, but you’re right, his bullshit mostly didn’t bother me. Mostly . Because there were definitely a few times he got to me.”

“That time you almost punched him in the face?”

Jacob chuckled. “Yeah. That’s one of them. I’m just saying, kid , don’t be like me. I’m not . . .”

Finn wasn’t going to accept it. Either Jacob’s no, or the disparaging tone he talked about his career with.

“Tell me why you won’t, and we’ll deal with it. It’s not money—”

“No.”

“It’s not because you got other things going on.”

“Ouch,” Jacob said.

“Is it my dad? Because I’m his son?”

“No, I never cared about what Morgan thinks,” Jacob said.

That was kind of what Finn had always figured anyway. That was how Jacob stayed unbothered by Morgan’s antics. He truly didn’t give a shit.

“But,” Jacob continued, “I don’t want to invite Morgan’s bullshit either.”

It wasn’t like Finn hadn’t tried not giving a shit. He had.

He’d just never evolved to that higher plane of being, despite all his efforts.

“Then what the fuck is it?” Finn wanted to know. If Jacob would tell him why then he could deal with it. He could get around it and convince Jacob to change his mind.

Jacob hesitated. He took another long drink of his wine. He looked everywhere but at Finn.

“I just think it’s a bad idea. I’m not a coach. And you’re—”

“I’m what?”

Jacob straight up looked away.

“Not ’cause I’m hopeless, right?” Finn pushed. He didn’t think he was hopeless. He’d worked too hard. And as insane as it made him, Morgan had been right about goalie being the right position for him.

He just needed Jacob to help him get out of his own goddamn way and to help him elevate his skills.

“Hardly,” Jacob said.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not a coach. I can’t be. And I definitely can’t be your coach,” Jacob said. Then looked like he immediately regretted it.

“Why not?”

But Jacob didn’t answer, and Finn had a feeling this was the reason.

Whatever lay behind that last issue.

“If it’s not because I’m a Reynolds, and not because I’m hopeless, it’s not because . . .” Finn paused. Disbelieving it could really be about his sexuality. His dad had offhandedly mentioned Jacob being gay half a dozen times, even to the point of saying, when he’d retired early, that maybe he could come out now.

Of course he’d said it in that typical Morgan way, but Finn had gotten fairly good at reading between his dad’s words.

It couldn’t be because he was gay, too, unless . . .

Well .

Finn had a feeling that Jacob’s reticence meant he wouldn’t easily admit his attraction, but he had options.

Including the most obvious one.

It wasn’t exactly warm—being early December in Portland—but Finn slipped his jacket off and let it fall to the deck.

“What are you doing?” Jacob didn’t just sound annoyed now. Or wry. Or over this whole conversation. He seemed . . .tense.

Funny, because Finn hadn’t been sure the heat spiking inside him every time their eyes met might not be just in his head. But based on what he’d said and the tremor of Jacob’s hand as he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass, Finn was beginning to wonder if he’d read this situation all wrong.

Finn stripped his T-shirt off. “I’m getting into your hot tub.” No, he wasn’t. He only wanted to call Jacob’s bluff.

But Jacob didn’t know that.

“No, you’re sure as hell not.” He was totally panicking now.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore as Finn toed his shoes off.

“You don’t want me to get in there, do you?”

“Of course not! It’s my fucking hot tub and I’m—”

“You’re naked. And you don’t like it, but you’d like me to be naked too.” Finn’s hands strayed down to the button of his jeans. He didn’t flick the button open, but he knew he wouldn’t have to.

“No.” Jacob hesitated. “I don’t want you to be naked, at all. I swear . . .” He muttered something under his breath that might’ve been dirty old man .

“You’re not old, and I certainly hope you’re dirty,” Finn teased. “Even if it’s not for me.”

“It’s just been . . .” Jacob swallowed hard. “Awhile for me, okay? And you’re making it hard—”

“I hope that’s true, too.”

“Ugh,” Jacob complained. “I’d ask why you’re doing this, but I already know.”

“Yep,” Finn said cheerfully.

“If I coach you, nothing else is happening.”

Finn lifted his hands over his head. “I didn’t say it was.” Though he was a little disappointed. Who wouldn’t want Jacob Braun in their bed?

But if the coaching was all that was on offer, he’d take that, no questions asked.

Jacob flushed. Or maybe it was the hot water he was currently hiding in. “Right, no. Of course not. I just—”

“We can keep it professional. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” Finn promised.

“That . . .I didn’t say yes,” Jacob argued.

“Surely I can do something for you, too. We’ll make it an exchange. You coach me to be a great goalie and to pretend like Morgan Reynolds doesn’t exist, and I’ll—”

“Don’t you dare say you’ll hop in my bed,” Jacob said between clenched teeth.

He hadn’t been about to, but that was an idea. For a split second, Finn let himself contemplate that very enjoyable exchange.

But he shook his head. “I wasn’t going to,” Finn said. “What do you need help with?”

“If only you had this confidence when you’re between the pipes,” Jacob groused.

“I know. It’s a character flaw.” Finn paused. “One we’re going to correct.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” Jacob rolled his eyes. Sipped his wine. “What if there was something you could help me with?”

“That’s what I keep saying,” Finn said.

Jacob tapped his fingers on the edge of the tub. “You came out.”

“Was I ever in ?” Finn wondered. He’d never made some big announcement or anything. He’d just lived his life. Never worried about what people would say about that . He hadn’t any extra bandwidth, not when he’d spent so many hours and brain cells focused on being Morgan Reynolds’ son.

Being gay had felt easier, weirdly enough.

“I’m trying to get there.” Jacob sounded strangely apologetic, like it was his character flaw that he’d been stuck in the closet—even though it was more a symptom of the times and the career he’d chosen than him being a good, or a bad, person.

“Okay,” Finn said.

“I think I could use some advice and guidance that’s not coming from my agent or my PR. They’re overly focused on making a big deal out of it—”

“It’s not a big deal?” Finn wondered. Not judging, but genuinely curious.

“I just want to fucking live. I couldn’t for so long and . . .and I’m ready now.”

Finn nodded. He didn’t know what that felt like—but then maybe he did, after all. He just wanted to be able to pull his skates on, pick up his stick and take his place on the ice without that litany of questions. Questions he asked. Questions everyone else asked.

And maybe he couldn’t silence those. But he could silence his own fucking brain.

“Here I thought you were going to ask me to do something hard ,” Finn said.

“Finn—” Jacob warned.

Finn laughed. “Not that , God, not what I meant. You really need to stop worrying I’m going to seduce you.” Though that would be fun.

“I’m not,” Jacob said flatly.

“Okay, worrying that you’re going to lose all your self-control and seduce me .” And that would be even more fun.

Jacob choked on his wine. “That wasn’t; I wasn’t .”

“Well, then stop acting like it. I’m hot. You’re hot. Maybe we’re both attracted but that doesn’t mean we have to act on it. We’re going to keep it professional. I get it. It’s disappointing, but I get it.”

Jacob stared at him.

“Too much honesty?” Finn was aware he was babbling now, but it was hard to stop himself. “Trust me, I’m not that irresistible. And neither are you.”

Maybe that was even more disappointing. But when Finn thought about trading the chance to play hockey free and clear, no pressure, no frustration, no self-recrimination, for the possibility of a few nights in Jacob’s bed, it was no contest.

Finn didn’t say it though, because every guy had an ego and maybe Jacob Braun was chill, but he was still a man, wasn’t he?

Oh, he sure fucking is .

“No?” Jacob asked dryly.

“No.” Finn picked up his T-shirt, pulling it back on, and then shrugged his jacket on. Leaned over and shoved his feet back into his sneakers.

“Alright. But the moment it doesn’t work out—”

“It’s going to work out,” Finn said confidently.

“Again, we’ve gotta find that confidence on the ice,” Jacob said.

“That’s your job,” Finn retorted. And now his own ego was smarting, because Jacob was right. He was confident everywhere else, but once the horn sounded, it evaporated. Finn told himself it was a good thing—not humiliating at all—that Jacob had identified this so easily, so quickly.

“Nope, it’s yours still, kid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Jacob’s smile was amused. “Fine. No kid . Probably better that way.”

“Better if you don’t want to think of yourself as a dirty old man, anyway.”

Jacob sighed. “Can you forget you heard that?”

“No way.”

“You’ll pay for it,” Jacob warned.

Finn had kind of assumed he would. “But if it makes me better, am I really paying for it?”

Jacob didn’t say anything, just stared at him flatly. Like he already wanted to throttle him. Finn told himself that was a much better alternative than wanting to do anything else, but it wasn’t quite convincing enough.

It’ll need to be.

“This your phone?” Finn asked, gesturing towards the one sitting next to the bottle. If he pushed Jacob any harder, he might tell him to get the fuck off his property without agreeing to anything—coaching or sex—and that would be a real problem.

“Yes, but don’t,” Jacob said. Sighed as Finn’s hand closed around it. But he handed it to the guy instead.

“Just wanted to give you my phone number, old man,” Finn said. “No need to overreact.”

“I wasn’t,” Jacob insisted. But he unlocked it and handed it to Finn anyway. “Just put your number in, and don’t do anything crazy like send me gay porn.”

“But gay porn is so fun,” Finn said. It was also so fun to work Jacob up. To make that flush climb up his chest to his cheeks.

But that way, probably—okay, almost certainly—lay disaster.

He’d need to remember that.

“This isn’t about fun,” Jacob said, and Finn decided that was just the reminder he needed.

It wasn’t about fun. It was about their futures.

And if Jacob wanted his even half as much as Finn wanted his own, then he’d want it an awful lot.

He typed in his number to a text and pressed send.

“There,” Finn said, handing the phone back. “Now we’re all set. When do we start?”

Jacob groaned.

“Tomorrow? Is that too soon?”

“Yes. No.” Jacob groaned again. “I gotta think about this.”

“Not if you’re going to do it,” Finn clarified.

“No. How I’m going to do it,” Jacob said.

Finn breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Yeah. How. Well, let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Jacob said. Paused. “Now get out and let me enjoy this wine.”

Finn wasn’t stupid. Having gotten exactly what he’d come for, he got out.