Page 28 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

riley

I went swimming after Logan stormed out, hoping to clear my mind. It didn’t work. My head was still a mess when I dragged myself out of the water. My heart was thudding, not from the swim but from everything else, and I flopped onto a lounger.

The sky was blazing blue, and the cliffs were as sharp as my feelings.

The fucking view didn’t help, though. It only made me more aware that he was down there somewhere, wandering the crooked streets without me and acting like he was fine.

He was probably laughing with strangers and nodding at whatever the tour guide said.

I kept picturing him pausing for photos, arms crossed, wearing the little squint-smirk he always had when the sun was in his eyes.

Meanwhile, I was sitting there like a dumbass. I wished he’d talked to me like a normal person instead of getting passive-aggressive and throwing knives with his words. Why had he acted like I’d betrayed him? Did he think I was dying to fuck Natalie and forget he even existed?

Going out with her was a good PR move, and sure, I could appreciate the idea of getting naked with Natalie Langdon. I had a dick and a pulse, after all. But it wouldn’t happen, not tonight, and probably not ever. I didn’t want her; I wanted to be with Logan.

When I’d tried to say that, he’d shut down, insinuating all kinds of ridiculous things. Obviously, I’d hurt him, but he’d hurt me too. So, I matched his maturity level and let him walk out thinking I didn’t care. That was total bullshit, because he was all I could think about.

I was so confused, my reptilian brain took over. Under the circumstances, would it really have been so bad if I ended up doing something with Natalie? I liked women, after all. It wasn’t like I couldn’t want to fuck her. And if I was going to be judged guilty, maybe I might as well enjoy the crime.

As I stared into the distance, the thought faded and then disappeared.

What the goddamn hell? That was the same old nonsense I’d heard teammates spouting since juniors, and as much as I’d wanted to be the role model for skirt chasers everywhere, I’d always thought that kind of thinking was ridiculous.

Two wrongs never make a right, and if I stood any chance of straightening this out with Logan, I’d better keep my nose clean.

God, if I did something with her only to get back at him, I’d never be able to look in a mirror again.

I liked Logan more than I knew what to do with.

We were best friends, or at least we had been.

Fun was our middle name when we were together, and he’d pulled me out of more funks than I could count.

Now, I couldn’t get enough of the sex because it was awesome.

Logan was everything I’d always needed in my life.

If only he weren’t a man, I wouldn’t be confused. I’d know exactly what I wanted.

“Look at this pigsty. Your mother has told you to clean up your room over and over. You think you’re too good to do it just because you’re on a fucking bantam hockey team?”

“Dad, I ? —”

“Now, I’ll give you some motivation to clean it up.” He took off his belt. “Get your pants off.”

“No! Please, I ? —”

He slapped me across the chest with the belt. “You know you get this on your bare ass. Take your pants off, or I’ll do it for you.”

He didn’t stop until my ass, upper legs, and lower back were on fire.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. As bad as the pain was, I had practice the next day.

I’d have to change into my gear and take a shower afterward.

I wouldn’t be able to hide the cuts and bruises, but the guys would be too nice to say anything.

Instead, their pitying looks would slice through me like a knife.

After the beating, while I cried and tried to hide it, he loomed over me.

“Stop it. Men don’t cry. And I’m sick of always seeing you with your teammates.

I’m starting to wonder if you’re a man at all.

Get off your ass and start dating. Find a girlfriend and act like a normal teenage boy.

I promise it’ll feel a lot better than whippings, and if you tried to be a man, maybe I’d respect you more. ”

After two more hard slaps with the belt, he left me sobbing into my pillow.

That had happened ten years earlier, but a shudder racked my body so hard the lounger shook.

For years, Dad had beaten me like it was a sport.

It didn’t matter why; if he was in the mood, he’d find a reason.

So I started fucking every girl I could get to, something he apparently knew because he kept me stocked with condoms. Fucking girls didn’t help, though.

He still didn’t respect me, and the beatings only got worse.

My hands shook, and since I’d broken into a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat, I went to the kitchen for a beer. The living room was cool, so I sat on the couch and tried to figure out what was going on with Logan and me. Who knew why I’d brought my fucking dad into it.

If only Logan weren’t a man , I’d thought. If he weren’t a man, I wouldn’t be so confused. Maybe Dad had been right, and I wasn’t the man I should be. Why else would I be so mixed up, wondering who the fuck I was and what all this meant with Logan?

Then I thought about Holky and Mad Dog. They’d both dated women exclusively before they met each other.

Holky later told me he’d always needed an intimacy he’d never found, and that women kept him sexually satisfied but did nothing for what he needed emotionally.

Logan and I had talked about that, and he’d even asked if I was the same. Of course, I’d denied it, but…

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I headed to my room and found my iPad.

Is this stupid? Am I imagining things that aren’t there because I’m upset about Logan leaving in a huff?

I powered on the tablet and connected to the house’s Wi-Fi. After an internal debate, I googled, “How do you know if you’re bisexual?”

My hands shook, but I had to do this. I’d known gay and bi guys since high school. Logan was gay, Harpy was married to Luca, and Dog and Holky were so in love you could feel it in the air. Regardless, I’d never felt so ignorant about anything.

Half an hour later, I’d found a lot of information, and it seemed like I could be bi. The facts were undeniable. I was attracted to women and men, and I didn’t want to imagine my life without Logan in it.

I’d learned that people experience bisexuality in different ways.

Some have the same kinds of feelings about different genders, while others tend to feel romantically about one gender but are still physically attracted to another.

For many, it seems to come down to feelings; they are physically attracted to people of different genders but make relationship decisions based on emotional connections.

There’s no such thing as one-size-fits-all bisexuality.

Only individuals can decide about their own identities.

While I considered that, I looked up the address of Natalie’s hotel.

I was glad Logan hadn’t taken the car since it would be about a twenty-minute drive from the villa, and I wasn’t sure Positano had Lyft.

A glance at the clock told me I was running late.

Fuck. Thinking about my sexuality would have to wait.

I needed to look good to go out with a supermodel, so I bolted for the shower.

Half an hour later, I spritzed on cologne, gave my hair another check in the mirror, and knotted my tie. Logan and I had brought suits so we could go to fancy restaurants, and now I was going without him. I sighed as I pulled on my jacket, and after one more glance in the mirror, I left.

When I pulled up to the Hotel Il San Pietro, I checked the mirror twice and grimaced at my reflection. Who the fuck was this guy? Hair carefully styled and wearing a tailored designer suit, all because my agent demanded it. Logan had been right. Even though it wasn’t my choice, this was a date.

Inside the hotel, the floors gleamed under bright chandeliers. When the elevator doors opened onto Natalie’s floor, my heart rattled hard enough to make me put my hand on my chest. I knocked on her door, and when it swung open, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Hey,” Natalie said. Her smile took my breath away.

I’d seen her hundreds of times on magazine covers, but in person, she was fucking unreal.

Tall and lean, with her golden-blonde hair falling in perfect waves down her back.

Her black dress hugged every curve, and a deep slit up the side exposed a smooth, tanned thigh.

Diamonds sparkled at her ears and wrists, but they were nothing compared to the electric-blue eyes looking me over.

“Uh, wow.” Great fucking start, Riley. “You look… incredible.”

Her laugh was a soft, rich sound that made my pulse race. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Her eyes dropped pointedly, and heat flared through me. Damn, it had been too long since I had sex with a woman.

What the fucking fuck? I’m here with Logan, and he’s the one I want. All this could only make sense if I’m bi, right? Attracted to both, wanting to be with one.

I thought about him, determined to prove I could use my brain instead of my dick. It would help to be out in public, where my thoughts would have to stay inside my head. “Let’s head out,” I told her. “We can have a drink at the restaurant if the table isn’t ready.”

“Absolutely.” She grabbed a tiny black purse from the table and smiled. “I’ve been starving myself for this all day.”

In the car, we kept the conversation light: careers, life on the road, paparazzi horrors. She was funny and didn’t seem to take herself too seriously.

At Passi verso il mare, the ma?tre d’ led us to a table on the terrace overlooking the sea. Candles flickered in glass holders, and a string quartet was playing in the corner. It was romantic as fuck.

I ordered a steak, and Natalie went for seafood pasta. After we took our first bites, she sipped her wine and smiled. “I’ve never dated a hockey player before. It’s usually actors or musicians.”

“Um.” I shifted in my seat. “Is this really a date?”

Here eyes sparkled as she laughed. “Oh, I think so. You looked impressed enough when you picked me up.”

I coughed, almost choking on my wine. “Well, yeah. You’re…”

“I’m teasing, Aidan.” She leaned in. “But honestly, it’s refreshing. Most guys in my world are so self-involved they can’t see past their noses.”

“Plenty of those in hockey too,” I said. “But most of us stay pretty grounded. Getting knocked into the boards a thousand times keeps you humble.”

She laughed again, tilting her head to one side. “So, from my social media spying, it looks like you’re single. Why? Is it because you’re on the road all the time, or are you just terrible at relationships?”

“Probably both. What about you? You’re pretty much the most beautiful woman alive.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m single. With all the travel and scrutiny, and everyone watching and judging, I get exhausted.”

As we talked, guilt gnawed at my gut. Somehow, I was failing her and Logan at the same time.

This should have been a perfect date, something to remember, but all I wanted was to be with Logan.

I needed to hear him laughing at something stupid I’d said and feel him next to me.

I missed him, and it hurt like a bitch. Even worse, I’d hurt him. Would he be able to forgive me?

By the time dessert arrived, berries with zabaglione, I was more confused than ever. I was out with a beautiful woman, but I didn’t want her, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Logan. Whatever was happening, I was not the Riley I used to be. Or had thought I was.

When dinner ended, we stepped outside into a flurry of camera flashes. Paparazzi shouted questions, and Natalie slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow, leaning close.

“This is my least favorite part,” she whispered.

“Mine too.” I smiled for the cameras, feeling like a fraud.

Back at her hotel, Natalie lingered in the lobby. “Want to come up for a drink?”

Fuck. She was interested, and it would have been easy to go upstairs with her. But I didn’t want to. “I’d like to, but I can’t.”

She smiled, then surprised me. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, relieved to say it out loud. “There is.”

“Lucky girl,” she said. “Or should I say guy? The one I saw you with on the beach, Logan Grayson?”

I almost fell over. “How did you?—”

She smiled and patted my chest. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know, but I thought it was worth a shot.” She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

On the way back to the villa, my heart pounded like it was trying to break free of my chest. I needed to see Logan.

We had to fix things because Natalie Langdon, the most beautiful woman in the world, had just made something painfully clear: the person I wanted wasn’t in a five-star hotel.

He was at our villa, probably pacing and pissed, but he was mine. At least I hoped he could be.