Page 13 of Playoff (Toronto Blaze #4)

That’s him

Jess

The office had sent out a last-minute notice that there was a memorial service for Mrs. Garvin the afternoon of Denny’s first game.

I’d had to search to find out the details, and once I arrived at the funeral parlor, there weren’t that many people in attendance.

She was a woman in her late eighties, so many of her contemporaries were no longer alive.

Almost the only person there who wasn’t eligible to collect a pension, other than me, was her son.

He looked bored, as if this was a waste of time for him.

Fortunately, his mother still had friends around who shared lovely stories of her life.

I didn’t feel it was appropriate for me to speak, but I was going to miss her.

We’d talked on the phone weekly, partly about her portfolio, mostly about life.

I left immediately after the service. I didn’t know anyone there, but I wanted to show that she’d touched many lives and deserved to be honored for that.

My book club met at a coffee shop, fortunately not too far from the Top Shelf.

I put on one of the many Blaze shirts I'd been gifted, covering it up with a sweater for warmth and so that no one at book club knew my brother’s identity.

A pair of jeans, my boots, and the book in a bag and I was ready to go.

There were twelve of us in the club, and we each picked a book for one month.

This year’s theme was books set in Bath, which I loved since I’d been there, ten years ago.

The first book chosen had been Jane Austen’s Persuasion , so this was our last night discussing that one. Next month was Georgette Heyer’s Bath Tangle . I could see a lot of regency romances coming up, so for my month, June, I was looking through some contemporary whodunits to change things up.

Only four of us showed, due to having colds and being cold, so we were done early.

I could get to the bar before the game ended and have a burger for dinner while I staked out one end of the table reserved for the team.

Ducky and Katie had gone to the game, since Ducky wanted to see his replacement play.

Jayna and Callie had joined them and invited me, but I’d always choose book club over hockey.

The Top Shelf was a popular bar. Two stories high with a large selection of craft beers.

Lots of wood and brass, servers in tight T-shirts, and good burgers and fries.

Most importantly, there was a sign on the way in: No selfies, no autographs, or no service .

It was the reason the local athletes hung out here, because management upheld that policy.

Some of the guys wouldn’t mind the attention but Justin hated it.

Considering some of the things I’d heard people say to him, I didn’t blame him.

It was easy to critique how the team played when you were sitting in an armchair.

People would still approach the players while they were here. If they were respectful, or puck bunnies, no one complained. Others…well, I'd heard it was a badge of honor for some to say they'd been kicked out of the bar. At least those people were in the minority, so it didn't happen often.

The back tables were reserved for the hockey team on game days, and regular patrons weren’t allowed to sit there. The servers knew me, so I settled in, ordered my burger and a glass of wine, and took out my phone for company.

There was a cheer from the tables closer to the TVs, so I glanced up and saw that the Blaze had scored.

The team held on for a win, so the evening should be easier for Justin.

Even if the guy who scored the winning goal had letters spelling Denbrowski stretched across the back of his jersey.

Everyone would be in a good mood, and we could probably leave before it got too late.

I left my coat and gloves at the table when I headed back to the restroom during the post-game whoop-de-do.

People respected the players’ tables, and the waitstaff always kept an eye on them so I wasn’t afraid I’d lose my jacket.

When I came back, the team was making its way into the bar to applause from fans thanking them for the win.

Justin was with the first wave of men arriving, which meant he hadn't had to face the press—he hated that.

He sat down beside me and picked up a cold, partially burnt fry.

“How was it?” I asked. He shrugged.

A server came around, taking the players’ orders. Justin asked for his favorite beer and took off his jacket. He relaxed in his seat and asked, "How was the service?"

“Nice, for a memorial. Tasteful, quiet. It was a little sad how few people were in attendance. I’m glad I went.”

“Was her son there?”

I nodded. “Looking bored.”

“And your book club?”

“Only four people. Everyone else was sick or cold.”

He frowned. “Not a good time?”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “Talking about books is always a good time.”

“Right.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “What should I make for dinner tomorrow?” His anxiety channeled into food.

Trying to lighten things up, I pretended to be affronted. “You’re assuming I don’t have a date lined up?” He cocked his head. “Fine. I don’t. But I could take care of myself. You should see if someone here would like to go out.”

He shook his head. I sighed. Neither of us were scoring in the dating department. At least I tried. Justin? Wouldn’t, as much as I might push. Thoughts of my hookup from the other night filled my mind. Now, if I bumped into him again…

More hockey players entered the bar. Ducky made his way over on crutches, Katie close by his side. Braydon and Jayna were behind them, then Cooper and Callie. I knew all the faces coming in. Royston was missing, and he’d scored a goal so he’d probably show up after his media time.

“New guy had to face the press?” Justin grunted. My PAC friends were headed this way, so I lowered my voice. “How was it? You and Denny work things out?"

He shrugged. "It's going to take time. But he wasn't an asshole, so there's that."

Katie took the chair beside me after making sure Ducky was settled. Cooper and Callie were at the other end, where Justin normally sat, but tonight he stayed beside me. That told me more than any words that he was uncomfortable.

Justin’s beer arrived, and my attention was caught by the next wave of players entering. There was more applause, since the later players were often the ones who'd scored, or in the case of the goalies, got a shutout. These were the ones the media wanted to interview.

Petrov was one of the group, the team’s Russian goalie, followed by Deek and Oppy, the top line forwards.

Petey never seemed to have much expression, but Deek and Oppy were grinning.

Deek normally went home to his family but this was a special night, welcoming the new guy.

I looked for Denny—the long hair, the full beard. He should be the guy behind them…

I blinked, confused. The man wasn’t Denny—it was the stranger from two nights ago. My hookup. For a moment, a smile teased my mouth. Thought he wasn’t a fan of the Blaze. My skin prickled as I noted the scruff, heavier now. Mmm. Maybe we could…

But wait, what the hell was my hookup doing here? He was supposed to be traveling on to wherever. He'd said he wasn't a Blaze fan. Why was he with the team tonight?

The guys treated him like one of them, and something dark churned in the back of my brain while I desperately tried to think up an acceptable alternate explanation. Sportswriter? Agent? Zamboni driver? Each idea less plausible than the previous one.

I bit my lip, comparing the nose and eyes against the headshots I’d seen of the Blaze’s newest member. It couldn’t be. This guy had been in the city when the trade was announced, and Denny had to fly in from California. There wasn’t enough time for him to?—

Katie kept her voice low. “Just to warn you, that’s Denny."

My stomach turned and I wanted to hurl. No, run away, then hurl. This was bad. So bad. Justin’s teammate. Our family’s nemesis. And the guy I’d been naked with.

I reached down to grab my bag. A quick trip to the bathroom and I could escape out the same door as two nights ago.

I couldn’t avoid the man forever, but I would be prepared next time.

I’d be able to pretend I’d never seen him before.

He’d follow my lead, surely? Or I could say…

something about meeting him and not recognizing him.

He wouldn’t talk about what we’d done, would he? Justin would totally flip out.

I’d just opened my mouth to excuse myself, watching Denny from the corner of my eye, when his gaze landed on me. For a moment, I swore he looked pleased. Then he saw Justin beside me, sitting close.

Justin leaned over, whispering in my ear, “That’s him.”

Denny’s eyes narrowed and his lips tilted in a mocking grin.

“I have to go. Ladies’ room,” I muttered and slid out of my chair.

I headed straight for the back of the bar. Justin could cover my tab. Damn it, I’d forgotten my jacket. I couldn’t sneak out. But I could take a minute, calm down and plan what I was going to do.

I went into the restroom, thankfully empty, and braced my hands on the sink. The woman I saw in the mirror had flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and was struggling for breath. I could not go back to the table like this. I counted breaths, trying to calm myself down.

Okay, I’d slept with Alek Denbrowski. Damn, damn, damn it all to hell. I slept with Alek Denbrowski. Justin could never know. Or my parents. No one could know. I hadn’t told anyone details about my hookup, and I hadn’t known his name, so the only way anyone would find out was if he talked.

Would he say anything? Surely not. I’d heard enough from Justin’s teammates to know I was considered off-limits. It must be the teammate code, right? So he’d keep his mouth shut. We both would. We’d make it like it had never happened.

I’d been in the restroom longer than I should. But I could honestly say I wasn’t feeling well, grab my coat and go. Justin would come with me, being a concerned brother, and he didn’t want to stay anyway. Yep, that would work out perfectly.

Another long breath. I stood up, nodding at my reflection. I’d stepped out of the restroom door, rehearsing what I’d say in my head, when all my calm deserted me. Alek Denbrowski was leaning against the far wall, obviously waiting for me. I gasped and my hand landed on my chest.

“Surely you’re not surprised to see me.”

I wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

Down, Jess. I pushed my shoulders back. Apparently instead of ignoring this whole disaster, we were having a confrontation. “I am, actually. Why are you here?”

“Thought we should have a little talk.”

“Really?”

He took a step forward, crowding me. I held my ground.

“Don’t fuck with me. You recognized me that night.”

Seriously? “No, I didn’t! You—” I waved a hand at his face, to indicate the drastic change in his look.

“You said you weren’t a fan of hockey.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I said someone else got me the shirt. Which is absolutely true. But you—you said you weren’t a Blaze fan.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t. I played for LA till that morning.”

I wanted to ask how he’d gotten to Toronto so fast, but a woman passed by us, heading to the ladies room. I stepped out of her way, keeping my eyes on Denny. She eyed us with curiosity before pushing the door open. This was not good.

He looked back toward the bar and his jaw clenched. I followed his gaze and saw a couple of women in tight pants and Blaze shirts heading this way.

I turned my back. No way did I want anyone thinking I was trying to pick him up.

"Give me your phone,” he growled.

"Excuse me?"

"We can't talk here, and we're not done."

I’d have loved to walk away and leave him to do his caveman impersonation with someone else, but he was angry. And if he said something to Justin…

"Fine," I huffed and pulled my phone out of my bag. I unlocked it and passed it over.

He tapped for a bit, and I heard a ping from his own back pocket. He handed it back to me and I slipped away as one of the women, seeing her chance, purred, "You're Denny, aren't you?"

I walked back to the table as quickly as I could. I didn’t need to hear his lines for his next hookup. When I got there, Justin was throwing money down for our drinks.

“You okay to leave?” he asked me.

I nodded. I didn’t even have to say I wasn’t feeling well. By the time we'd bundled up and called for a ride, any heat in my cheeks was covered by our leaving.

How was I going to make sure Denny kept his mouth shut?