Page 3 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

riley

I spent the afternoon waiting for a text from Logan, napping too long, eating snacks I didn’t want, and scrolling my phone until my eyes ached.

His message never came, which was no real surprise after the way he’d bolted from the airport.

I’d pushed too hard in Dallas, trying to get him to talk at the worst possible time.

Now the silence between us was like a glacier.

I couldn’t forget the look he’d given me before disappearing into the bathroom, like I was a problem he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve.

Still, I would’ve given anything for a text from him, some kind of hint our friendship was still alive.

Eventually, I gave in and texted him. It took over an hour to get a reply, a half-hearted invitation to come over the next night for a movie. I figured chances were even that he’d cancel at the last minute.

With nothing to do, I turned on the TV, but by nine o’clock, my nerves were fried.

I needed to get out of my condo and stop obsessing about Logan.

One perk of living downtown was easy access to nightlife, so I threw on dark jeans and a white shirt, then walked to my usual spot on West Chippewa.

I hoped some loud music and a few drinks might get me out of my head.

Inside, I pushed through the crowd to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey and a Heineken. It didn’t take long to slip into my usual rhythm of smiling too much, making a lot of noise, and weaving through bodies like I owned the room.

A girl in a skintight blue dress grabbed my arm and asked if I played for the Warriors.

“No,” I said, putting on a grin. “But I’ve got a twin who does.”

She laughed like I’d said something brilliant and offered to buy me a drink. I nodded, but part of me was still thinking about Logan, wondering if we’d ever get rid of the tension between us.

Two tequila shots later, I was holding court with several women and trying to escape the attention of a guy in a beanie who’d barged his way into the group.

He kept calling me “Buffalo Daddy” and asking me to dance.

I’d never thought of myself as the daddy type, but I had a feeling he wanted me to live up to it.

It was one of those nights when all the women looked good.

I hadn’t hooked up with anyone since before the California trip, and a night with someone soft and hot sounded like the reset I needed.

I didn’t want feelings. I wanted release, and the sooner the better.

Honestly, I needed validation, and all the attention I was getting was a good start.

After making my excuses to the group, I went back to working the room and deflected some potential dates.

One was too drunk, one too clingy, and one too giggly.

A blonde asked if I could get her cousin a tryout with the team.

Just as I was about to start another circuit around the place, there she was.

Tall, confident, big tits, and legs for days.

Her dress was the color of emeralds, and her raven hair accentuated it perfectly.

She looked like a woman who could cut you with a shady compliment and make you thank her for the chance to bleed.

It wasn’t long before she caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. I started walking. Her name turned out to be Liz, and her wineglass was empty. After I ordered more Chablis for her and a Heineken for myself, we locked eyes until the bartender delivered.

“I like hockey players,” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder.

I laughed. “Don’t tell me. You watch the Warriors on TV.”

“Never miss a game.” She brushed some imaginary lint off the front of my shirt.

“I don’t either,” I deadpanned, leaning on the bar beside her. “Tell me something interesting since I already know about hockey.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I once punched a guy for cutting in front of me at a bakery.”

“That’s different. What kind of bakery?”

“Italian.” She tilted her glass toward me. “They had fresh ciabatta, and it was worth the chaos.”

I clinked her glass. “Let’s not talk about bread. But for the record, I’m more of a focaccia guy.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about bread.”

“Right, but part of my charm is being a little inconsistent.”

She tilted her head back and laughed, a full, chesty sound I felt low in my gut.

“You visiting?” I asked.

“Conference. Boring financial stuff. But I was hoping a handsome man might come along and relieve the boredom.”

“Well…” I let my smile go crooked. “I’ll help you keep an eye out for the right guy.”

She leaned in. “Maybe I already found him.”

That was the cue, the moment I used to live for, but I said nothing.

She touched my wrist. “I’m staying at the Westin. Two blocks, no pressure.”

My body should’ve reacted. A few weeks ago, I’d have taken her hand, and we’d have already been out the door. Tonight, I hesitated. “Tempting, but I’m not quite there yet.”

She traced circles on my arm. “Your loss, but I respect your choices.”

That made me laugh, and when I said I should probably head out, she dropped another sly invitation.

“I’m going back to Watertown in two days,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my room for a nightcap?”

She was persistent, and this kind of thing had always been easy for me. But tonight, despite needing a distraction, I wasn’t feeling it. I forced another smile. “Thanks, but I need to head home soon.”

She took a sip of wine, then studied me over the rim of her glass. “Let me guess. Girlfriend trouble?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “Something about you. Like you need a night out but don’t want to cheat.”

Fuck me. If that’s the message I’m sending out, maybe I should stick around and see if I can get in the mood.

I stayed, but the longer we talked, the less I felt like myself. It was like I was playing a role I once knew but had forgotten all the lines. I couldn’t blame nerves or beer, and it definitely wasn’t Liz. She was incredible.

When my bottle was empty, I set it down and looked her in the eye. “You’re amazing, but I need some time to myself.”

She nodded. “Take care of yourself, Aidan. And whoever she is, she’s lucky.”

I didn’t bother with another denial. We kissed each other’s cheeks, and I walked home wondering what the fuck had just happened. Talk about blowing an opportunity.

Who the fuck was I, anyway? This was why I needed to straighten things out with Logan.

My mind was on him so much I couldn’t think about women.

Liz was hot as fire and had really been into me, but I still hadn’t wanted to go with her.

The stuff in LA had messed me up, and I had to find a way to convince Logan to talk about it.

I checked my phone when I got home. Since there were no messages, I opened my thread with Logan and stared at it, wondering if I should say something casual. But fuck that. I set the phone on my nightstand and went to brush my teeth. He’d obviously wanted space, and I had to respect that.

I woke more confused than I’d been the night before. Not even coffee, a plate of eggs, or an hour on the treadmill could fix it. It was time to admit I needed someone else’s advice.

The Warriors were a great group of guys, but most of them were a little nosy.

There was one I could trust with secrets, though.

Harpy loved to stir the pot as much as anybody, but he was a fantastic captain who knew how to keep things to himself.

When I texted to ask if we could talk, he said his husband, Luca, was on the road with his lacrosse team, so I could come over anytime.

They lived in a narrow, brick-front house in Buffalo’s historic district. Inside, it smelled like wood polish and coffee, with tall windows, creaking hardwood floors, and a fireplace that took up most of one wall. Harpy and I sat in comfy chairs beside a window with a view of the neighborhood.

After we bullshitted a while, he got to the point. “You said you need to talk, and I doubt you’re really interested in those plants outside. What’s on your mind?”

My throat went dry. Talking about serious things had never been easy, but if I wanted help deciding what to do, I had to be honest. “I haven’t been myself lately, and I need to figure out why so I can do something about it.”

He leaned back and said, “When I don’t feel like myself, it’s usually because something’s different. Has anything changed with you? Or has something happened?”

“No.”

He widened his eyes and let a moment pass. “Why do you feel different then? You must have some idea.”

My stomach dropped. I’d hoped to avoid talking about LA because I wanted to protect Logan’s privacy.

Now, I understood that would be impossible.

I had a crazy urge to say I’d forgotten something important and run out the door, but that wouldn’t help me deal with my crazy feelings.

Plus, it would probably make Harpy determined to find out what was wrong.

“Something may have happened.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It involves someone else you know, so I can’t be too specific, but I overreacted. I… um… I think it hurt him, and now it’s hurting me.”

“Hmm. This person’s on the team, I take it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He shifted in his chair. “Why don’t you talk to him and hash it out? None of our teammates are unreasonable.”

“I have tried to talk about it. I tried yesterday, but he shut me down.”

“So try again. You’re not exactly shy, Riley.”

“Well… I’m the reason he won’t talk.” I flopped against the back of my chair because that admission had taken something out of me.

“Can you be any more specific?” Harpy asked. “If you came here looking for advice, I need to have some idea of what happened.”

He was right, goddammit, so I stared at the ceiling because it was easier than looking at him. “After it happened, I overreacted.”

“You said that already.”

“Fuck!” I lowered my head and met Harpy’s eyes. “I told him we could never talk about it again.”

Harpy nodded as a look of understanding crossed his face. “I see.”

“I don’t know if you do. What are you thinking?”

“That whatever’s made you so upset must have been major. We all do things that spook us. Sometimes that’s good because it can open us to something new, maybe something we’ve denied. Was it the first time this happened?”

“Yes.” I was too loud, so I lowered my voice.

“Why else would it have bothered me? If we’d done it before…

” My heart thumped because it was pretty clear Harpy had figured out what I was talking about, and it would be obvious who else was involved.

“If we’d done it before, I don’t think this would’ve been a problem. ”

Silence stretched so long I started bouncing my knees. When sweat ran down my nape, I reached back to wipe it off.

“How did you feel about it?” Harpy asked. “You said you overreacted. Does that mean you were okay while it was going on?”

“Definitely. It was the next day when I flipped out.”

After giving me another long look, Harpy stood. “How about a drink? Iced tea, water, soda. We have beer too.”

“I could use a beer.”

“Be right back.”

He brought back two Sierra Nevadas and handed one to me. I gulped half of it right away.

“It can shake us when we do something out of character,” he said. I stayed quiet, so he went on. “Riley, anything you tell me stays between us. I don’t even tell Luca about team business. The other person involved was Logan, right?”

“Shit. I can’t…” I huffed. “Yes.”

Harpy set his bottle down on a table. “Has this just happened? I know you two hung out on the trip.”

“It was about a month ago.”

“He’s probably confused too, and afraid of hurting you. Logan’s older than we are, and he doesn’t have trouble speaking his mind. I think he’d tell you what he’s thinking if he were only concerned about himself.”

That made sense. Logan wasn’t the biggest talker on the team, but he wasn’t shy. “We have to discuss it,” I said. “Yesterday, he shut me down hard, so what should I do?”

“Try to help him feel more comfortable. If he’s concerned about you, and I bet he is, you need to let him know you’re ready to talk. He’ll be less likely to open up if he thinks you’re only bringing it up for his sake.”

“What if he tries to shut me down again?”

Harpy narrowed his eyes, then reached for his beer. “I don’t know how much of this you heard at the time, but when Luca and I were getting together, we had a big issue. We didn’t talk about it. He wanted to, I didn’t, and we both suffered because I was so stubborn.”

“I remember.”

“Luca couldn’t make me talk any more than you can Logan, but there’s an important difference. Logan’s older and smarter than I was, and I don’t think he’ll go to the extremes I did to avoid a conversation. If he tries to avoid talking again, don’t let him.”

“How? He told me no.”

Harpy laughed. “Since when do you listen to what anybody tells you? Look, I don’t know exactly what happened, but you two are still friends. You can fix this, but since you’re the one who said it was off limits, you’ll have to be persistent about opening it back up.”

“Fuck. I guess you’re right.”

He nodded, and we both sipped our beers.

“Don’t wait,” he said. “Take care of this before it becomes a major obstacle between you two.”

“I won’t. It may take me a day or two to decide how to approach it, but I’ll get it done.”

I turned down Harpy’s invitation to lunch and headed home to think about things. After a walk around the neighborhood, I had a plan, or at least the beginnings of one. Before anything else, I had to fix the distance between Logan and me, and I could start on that tonight.

The first thing I had to do was make sure he wouldn’t cancel. I pulled out my phone and started typing, then erased what I’d said. It took three tries before I pressed send.

RILEY: Thought I’d come over about 8. We can watch TV like you said. Or I can watch TV while you read lol.

Since he hadn’t mentioned dinner in his invite, I didn’t either. I wondered if he’d make me wait for a reply, but his answer came a minute later.

LOGAN: Sounds good. See you at 8.