Page 27 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

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The trail was steep and narrow, twisting down the hillside.

I stumbled twice, catching myself just in time, and tried to force my thoughts away from Riley.

Breaking my leg in Italy would be no way to spend a vacation.

I started talking out loud to maintain my focus, describing odd plays and code words the Warriors had used years ago.

It may have been ridiculous, but it kept me from thinking about the fight.

I made it as far as Via Cristoforo Colombo before I had to stop and lean against a wall, catching my breath.

The tour didn’t matter, something I’d known before I left the villa.

What I needed was distance from Riley, space before the situation blew up.

If I’d stayed, I would have said things I’d regret.

So much for my grand resolution not to lose it every time he went near a woman.

The second reality had intruded on my fantasies, instinct took over.

Via Cristoforo Colombo pulsed with the soft hum of mopeds, laughter, and the occasional clatter of dishes from an open-air terrace.

I dodged groups of tourists angling for the perfect photo, searching for a distraction to keep my mind off Riley.

Colorful bougainvillea spilled from wrought-iron balconies and trellises overhead.

Shops and boutique hotels lined the street, and I stopped to look in the window of a linen store that reminded me too much of Riley in his billowy white shirt.

Finally, I spotted the blue-lettered sign for Marco’s, a bar tucked onto a quiet terrace that jutted out over the cliffside.

The beach was below, and beyond it, the sea with its endless shades of blue.

I hated drinking when I was like this because it only made things worse.

Still, it had to be better than going back to the villa and pacing around while Riles was out with her. Fuck that.

I sat at the far edge of the terrace, ordered an Italian beer, and welcomed the first few icy sips. The sea breeze kicked up, a welcome relief in the heat of the afternoon.

By the time the second beer landed in front of me, I couldn’t sit still.

My knees bounced so hard I hit the bottom of the table, and I couldn’t stop tracing lines through the condensation on my glass.

I drained half of it in one go and returned to staring at the Mediterranean, trying to lose myself in the blue water glistening in the afternoon sun.

What the fuck was I doing? Had I ruined everything?

I couldn’t keep my mind off Riley, with his shaggy hair, mellow voice, and lopsided grin that always looked like he knew a secret. No doubt, he was cocky, and he could be infuriating. Yet he was still the funniest, sharpest man I’d ever met. He was everything I’d stopped believing I could have.

We weren’t just close, and it wasn’t only because of sex.

After years of friendship, he knew how I liked my coffee, when I needed silence, and how to touch my wrist when I was spiraling about something.

I knew him too, how lonely he could be even when he acted like the life of the party.

He hated being cold indoors and was never happier than when we were hanging out.

I understood he talked big because he needed to hide the insecurities left by the way he grew up.

I wanted him so much. Not just the jokes or the sex or the easy companionship, but all of him. The thought of losing him made my heart feel like it was frozen. I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone, but he wasn’t mine.

“Fuck.” I barely heard myself over the blood rushing in my ears, and I drained the beer. Hopefully, it would quiet the noise in my head.

The night in LA had been a mistake. The way he acted the next morning should have told me to keep my distance and never let us go there again. Sex complicates everything, even when both people want a relationship. And Riley didn’t, at least not with me.

But when it isn’t tangled up in denial, when one person isn’t terrified of what it means to be attracted to another man, sex can make things better. People have fun and get close. Sometimes, they even fall in love.

Falling for Riley wasn’t new, but acting on it was, and it might have been a mistake I’d regret forever.

I’d allowed myself to fall for a man who could never want me the same way I did him.

Even if Riley were bisexual, things could never work for us.

He’d told me many times how much he wanted a wife and kids.

If we were together, we could have kids, but I could never be his wife.

I finished my beer and signaled for a third as an idea formed in my head.

If I had any chance of protecting myself emotionally and salvaging what was left of my friendship with Riley, I needed to put space between us.

Physical distance would be difficult until we went back to Buffalo, but until then, I could make a good start with emotional space.

Starting tonight, Riley would be with women in Italy.

Natalie was only the tip of a very sexy female iceberg he’d be able to choose from.

Why the hell shouldn’t I do the same? Not with women, obviously, since I could barely remember which parts were where, but Positano was crawling with gay men looking for a good time.

Surely, a professional athlete with a decent body and all his original teeth could find company.

I’d have a good time, enjoy some dirty, uncomplicated sex, and let Riley do his thing.

And with any luck, I’d gain some much-needed perspective.

The waiter brought my new beer, and I had no sooner taken a long pull before fate intervened. A male voice called my name, and I pasted on a smile before turning my head.

Fuck fate. It was a couple looking for an autograph and a photo. The guy acted as though we were long-lost buddies, and the woman flirted like there was no tomorrow. Either she didn’t know I was gay or didn’t care, so I made nice and hustled them on their way as quickly as possible.

Despite everything, I didn’t want to get drunk, so I started taking baby sips of beer. Finding men shouldn’t be too hard. I’d download one of the hookup apps, or what people euphemistically call dating apps, as soon as I got home tonight.

I was watching a boat on the water when someone else said my name. Goddammit. I’d sign another autograph and get the hell out of there. I turned, but this was no overeager fan. “Quinn Weaver,” I said, sitting up straighter. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Quinn flashed his familiar, crooked smile and slid into the seat next to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

His chestnut hair had lightened in the Italian sun, and his broad shoulders filled out a white T-shirt better than I remembered.

Damn, he still looked good enough to fuck, and I turned my chair until we were facing.

“Business,” he said. “One of my new partners lives in Positano, and I’m here to lock things down.” He gave me a once-over that was as subtle as a loud scream. “I heard the Warriors went out early. Thought you might be licking your wounds in Buffalo.”

I faked nonchalance. “Nah. Thought I’d find someplace nicer to lick my wounds.”

He laughed. “Wise man. How’s that friend of yours, the one who hooked up with my cousin in Seattle?”

“Riley?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Is he still causing trouble on and off the ice?”

“Something like that.” I took a sip of beer and tried to get my thoughts in order. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Quinn leaned back and gave me another slow, appreciative look. “Better than expected. I opened a couple of bars in Seattle, and I’m getting ready to open a club. That’s what my partner here specializes in. But I won’t lie. I miss the adrenaline of hockey.”

“I’m happy for you, Q.” I used my old nickname for him. “Glad life’s treating you right.”

He tilted his head. “How’s life treating you these days?”

I hesitated too long before saying, “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “Relationship complicated or career complicated?”

“Yes,” I said, laughing ruefully.

“Got it.”

We were quiet for a moment, surrounded by the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Quinn’s gaze traveled down my body another time, lingering long enough for me to know exactly what he was thinking.

“You look great,” he said. “I’ve watched a few games, but those damn pads cover up all the best parts.”

Fuck me. Quinn might be a total douche, but he seemed interested.

“You here alone?” I asked.

“Except for this pesky business partner I’m meeting in half an hour.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “Can’t cancel, unfortunately. It would’ve been nice to catch up properly.”

“Sounds like important business,” I said.

“How about tomorrow?” He stripped off my shirt with his eyes. “Are you free?”

I thought about Riley, but to hell with that.

I had no idea when he’d even be home. For all I knew, he’d find another woman on his way back from Natalie’s hotel.

Still, I may have been thinking about finding men, but this was Quinn.

We’d dated for less than a year, but it had been long enough for him to break my heart.

The word “fidelity” wasn’t even in his vocabulary.

One thing was sure: I’d never get into a relationship with him again.

But he wasn’t talking about a relationship.

The sex between us had always been hot as fire.

His mind was even dirtier than mine, and he’d come up with ideas I’d never even thought about.

If I were going to fuck men to put distance between Riley and me, someone had to be the first. Would Quinn be a good place to start?

This was something I’d have to think about carefully, but meeting up again would do no harm because I could still say no. “How about drinks?” I asked. “Want to meet here?”

“Perfect. Then we can go to my room so I can show you a few things.”

My stomach churned when I remembered everything that had happened with Quinn. This would require serious thought. Still, desperate times and all that. At least it would get my mind off Riley for an hour or two.

I met Quinn’s eyes. “Maybe. We’ll have to see.”

He nodded, then stood and offered his hand. I got up too, and while we shook, he leaned in so close I felt his breath against my ear. “I can’t wait.”

“I said we’d see, Q. Here about four o’clock?”

“Counting the hours.” He straightened and gave me a heated glance. “My number’s the same if you clear up some time before then.”

I sat, and as he walked away, I couldn’t help admiring the curve of his ass.

No red-blooded person could deny Quinn was sexy, but even saying “maybe” made something inside me feel hollow.

Fun, casual sex might be what I needed, but doing it with Quinn could make me feel even worse.

I downed the rest of my beer, feeling very confused.