Page 11

Leo

Caleb’s a quick study, eager to please. There’s no excuse for how close I’m sitting and inhaling his sweet scent like a warm, lazy summer day. I don’t remember the last time I spent a day basking in the summer sun, but he makes it seem possible.

Winning at poker requires strategy and risk in addition to the cards dealt. Caleb has good instincts, and on the few hands he’s able to master his face, he wins all of Lucky’s chips.

“Not so lucky now, huh.” Caleb gloats, and Lucky shrugs, unconcerned he’s the first out.

A zing of excitement zips through me because of Caleb’s contagious enthusiasm. I’ve forgotten my own cards and drink in his success.

The images filter through my mind of all the times he’s obeyed my commands without question. He has dropped to the ice every time I asked. I adjust my cock under the table from the inappropriate memories.

“Keep this up, and we won’t be able to call you Baby Benz anymore. You’ll earn a seat at the big boy table.” Ace rocks back in his chair.

“Don’t you know the kids’ table is always more fun?” Caleb retorts, not missing a beat. “I already earned my spot, fork you very much.”

Gray laughs. “Fork you. Classic.”

“Agreed. The nickname is out.” Ace waves his hand as if it’s a decree.

My pride swells from his ability to stand up for himself without offending his captain.

Drake plays with precision and ruthlessness. He’s a worthy opponent but doesn’t play with the caliber of players I do. That’s the advantage of semi-retirement; I play in charity tournaments and competitively.

“Next time, Drake. Watch out.” Caleb chuckles when he loses and pushes back from the table.

Inexplicably, I widen my legs so my knee stays in contact with his thigh. He’s comforting, something I’m not used to, and it’s hard to remember why it’s wrong.

We play until only Drake and I are left. I’ve got a flush and show Caleb my cards. He does not disappoint me as his face lights up brighter than the gigantic holiday tree in Manhattan.

Drake isn’t amused by my obvious show but offers me congratulations after the hand.

Caleb stands up to stretch, showing a very light, thin line of hair from his stomach to his waistband. I turn away, licking my lips and cursing myself.

“I’m not sure I should thank you for playing or punch you for winning,” Lucky jokes and claps my shoulder. Drake wraps him in his arms so his hand falls away.

“That’s our cue to get out before their restraint breaks.” Ace holds open the door as I wheel out my overnight bag.

“I’m passing on the kissy face.” Caleb turns pink when his eye catches mine. His flushed skin shouldn’t make my stomach swoop.

My room is on the left, but Caleb walks to the right and my feet follow him. Nothing good will come of pursuing him, so I stop and check my room number.

Ace and Gray have disappeared into their respective rooms, and Caleb pauses, glancing at me nervously.

“What’s going on, eh?” His nerves bring out my accent.

He shifts his weight, staring at the floor, which only increases my curiosity. He’s an open book shutting his cover. I’m half terrified he’ll ask me into his room. Being alone with him is a recipe for disaster.

“I’m going to check on Mason,” he says in a rush.

“Oh, okay.” I don’t move toward him, and he heaves a sigh of relief. My brain has trouble catching up and switching from an invitation to a dismissal. He doesn’t want me to see Mason, probably because he’s injured.

Caleb uses a key to enter his room, and I rush to catch the door before it swings shut. I’ll only peek in to make sure Mason’s fine, then leave. That’s the lie I tell myself to justify my behavior.

“Hey, how ya feelin’?” Caleb asks. The room’s dark except for the light from the bathroom. I can make out Mason’s form on the bed by the window.

Mason makes a sleepy sound, and Caleb sits on the far side of the bed next to him. Mason inches up. “Did you win all their money?”

Caleb chuckles and bites his lip. “Nah, turns out I’m shit at in-person poker.”

Mason shoves his shoulder with a grin. “You’re not good at bluffing.” Then he winces and rubs his leg.

I’m standing at the foot of the bed before I realize I shouldn’t be here.

“Dad?” Mason says, and Caleb jumps off the bed.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

Mason folds his arms defensively. “A bad bruise. It’s nothing.”

My son and I might be estranged, but I can still tell when he’s lying. Calling him out won’t help anything, so I pretend to believe him.

“Best thing for that is rest.” I resist telling him he shouldn’t weightlift tomorrow. He’s a grown man, and I have to trust he’ll take care of himself. “Tomorrow, there’s something we should discuss.”

“You can say it now.” Mason scowls.

“It’s private.” My eyes cut to Caleb, who holds up his hands.

“Stay,” Mason says to him in a pleading tone. Caleb nods without looking at me and sits in the chair by the window.

Maybe it’s for the best that Caleb witnesses our conversation. If he sees my flaws, this thing between us will die out. There’s no bigger turnoff than the way I’ve let Mason down.

I sit on the edge of the other bed, putting both Mason and Caleb in my view.

“I thought working for the team would bring us together, give us a common goal and a way to bond. I didn’t realize my presence here could take something from you.

I rented in New York to be closer to you, but I didn’t ask you how you felt. ”

“You don’t usually follow through, so I didn’t think you’d really move here. If I’d known you were serious, I’d have asked you not to come.” His words are matter-of-fact, not meant to hurt but they do.

“I’m going to do a better job of listening to you. And for that reason, I spoke to Ari about letting me out of my contract.” To put him first, I have to let go of my pride.

Mason’s eyes light up, and Caleb swallows hard with a furrowed brow.

“He will let me out of it, but he also made a point we should discuss. Ari believes no matter the reasons given, the press will make assumptions and the scrutiny surrounding our relationship will increase, not decrease. Digging for a story about our fractured relationship.” My heart sinks when Mason’s eyes shut and his skull bounces on the cushioned headboard.

“Crud-on-a-cracker,” Caleb fake-swears. “He’s right. Every question will center around a feud between you.”

Mason groans. “Of course I’m in a no-win situation.”

“Mr. Dimon offered to let me keep my credentials, but release me from my contract. I could attend games to see you, but not in an official capacity.” I hope this option works for him because I’m out of other ideas.

“You would do that?” he asks, incredulous. “Actually come back without a job here?”

His apprehension is warranted, though it makes me bristle. “I moved here for you, so I will continue to come to your games.”

Mason lets out a humorless laugh. “I’ll think about it and let you know.” He side-eyes me, lifting his brows. I’ve probably said that before and let him down.

I slap my palms on my knees and stand, not wanting to overstay and intrude.

“Benz,” I say, and he straightens, sitting on the edge of his chair as if waiting for a command.

Goddammit. He’s incredible. “I spoke to Mr. Dimon about your skill and my faith that you will be an excellent starting goalie when the time comes. If you trust your instincts, you’ll be an All-Star.

” I’m not sure if I’ll work with him again, and there’s an urgency to give him confidence.

Caleb’s mouth hangs open in a wide grin, and his green eyes glow in the dim light.

“Remember your schedule.” I tap my watch, and Caleb nods dutifully. I turn before I say something more and ruin the moment like Mason expects.

The wheel of my bag gets caught in the door, and I hear Caleb’s breathy voice say, “Holy moly.”

“Yeah, that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard him say. Good for you,” Mason responds.

Walking away from the man who is not my son takes more effort than I can admit to myself.

After lying awake in bed for half an hour, I grab my phone.

Me: Did you make it to bed?

Caleb: Come tuck me in?

Me: Goodnight

Caleb: Night

There should not be a goofy grin on my face, but there is.