Page 13

TEN

PATRICK

I kept my cool until ten in the evening, when most of my guys had split from the bar and only a handful remained, sipping from their nearly empty glasses. I’d had a couple of beers, but I couldn’t risk our game against the Titans, no matter how thirsty the sleeping situation made me.

I was pretty sure Shane didn’t suspect a thing.

I’d told him the truth about asking for a room together, but I hadn’t realized it would be a shared freaking bed.

Even so, I didn’t want him to see just how freaked-out I was about it.

He could get ideas, poor guy, and I would eventually have to break it to him.

Then again, there I was, getting ideas, and they parched my tongue and dried the roof of my mouth.

I tipped my glass and poured the already warm sip of beer into my mouth, wiped my lips, and headed back.

Shane hadn’t been in the mood for a drink, and he had decided to stay and look over his literature.

“Making sure I observe you correctly tomorrow is more important than what you do tonight,” he’d explained.

He was probably right. I wasn’t doing anything of any consequence tonight.

Or any night. The only thing I did that ever mattered was on the ice and realizing that kind of sucked.

I was a hockey player, not much else. I was a slightly more active version of the old “pretty face and no brains” adage.

It was alright. My life didn’t amount to much when I wasn’t doing the one thing I was good at.

Lately, chasing the thrill of a quick fuck didn’t inspire me like it used to.

I would have blamed it on Shane’s constant presence and observation, but I knew it ran deeper than that.

I’d never had an issue being watched while flirting before.

As I neared the door of the bar, it opened, and Shane stepped in.

“Oh,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I saw guys coming back, but you were still out.”

“You were…looking for me?” I asked.

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze swept the room. “I thought I could have a drink after all.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Drinks all around.”

Shane lifted one corner of his lips into a half smile, and God, he looked cool.

Pull yourself together , I snapped at myself.

I had promised myself not to act on this.

I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand the risk of it.

I didn’t know how far it would take me or how devastating it would be for Shane.

Truth be told, I rarely knew the risks with the girls I hooked up with, either, but they were always aware of that.

I’d never picked up a doe-eyed virgin. I’d gone out with the sort of girls who knew exactly what they wanted, and it happened to match what I wanted perfectly.

A nice, passionate night of pleasure and a nice breakfast in the morning.

As far as I could remember, I’d never led anyone on.

Yet every time I let it slip and flirted with Shane—unintentionally, I might add—he’d perked up as if I was asking him out on a date.

The hard part was that I wanted to. Wouldn’t it be great?

Because I could sit across from him over dinner and listen to him tell me why Pluto isn’t a planet and how the Earth came to exist when Zeus picked a grain of sand from under his fingernail during a bath.

We’d eat and laugh, and I would say something sweet while looking into his eyes, and he would blush so furiously that my heart would want to explode.

And I’d walk him back to his place. And he’d linger before going in. And I would kiss him.

Dammit , I told myself. I’d promised I wouldn’t go there.

Shane and I walked over to the bar near a couple chatting with one another. We ordered drinks and stayed at the bar while the girl laughed loudly at what the guy said.

“What made you change your mind?” I asked.

“My eyes were about ready to pop. I showered and had to get out before going crazy,” he said. “There’s a case to be made about a work-life balance. Or study-life balance.”

“If life is what you want, I can totally show you a good time,” I said and wondered if this was accidental flirting or a friendly offer.

I watched Shane’s emerging blush and looked at the girl and the guy behind him. The guy glanced at us and took a measure of me. And I mean a measure . So they weren’t a couple at all.

The girl must have followed the guy’s gaze because she turned to look. Our gazes locked, and I dialed up the intensity of my charming look back at her. We held eye contact for a heartbeat or two before she looked away.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Shane asked.

“Is this an interview?” I teased, then gestured at a table.

We moved over, and I picked a seat with a clear view of the bar. The girl’s gaze followed me, but I acted cool and uninterested. “Just chatting,” he replied.

“I think so. The drills went well, right? We have a good chance,” I said, getting comfortable in the booth. “The Titans that had been kicking our asses the last two years are gone. That Partridge was a helluva player.”

“Was?” Shane asked.

“In their team, I mean,” I said. Beckett Partridge had gone on to build a shiny career right after graduating, just like his boyfriend, playing for the NHL.

I’d sometimes let myself imagine joining the team he was on and telling him how much I had hated him back in college.

He seemed like a cool guy when he wasn’t beating your ass on the ice.

“Avery, Sebastian, Jordan, the whole lot of them are gone now.”

“Doesn’t that just mean the bar is lower?” Shane asked.

I shot him a murderous glare. “If you wanna be a dick about it, yeah.”

He laughed.

“I see how it sounds like that,” I said with a shrug. “I think we’re better this year.”

Shane nodded. “I think so, too.”

I cocked my head. “Have you watched us play before?”

He nodded again, a little more shyly.

“Tell me,” I said. “Sports psychology is a very specific choice.” My eyes narrowed. “You were an athlete, Shane. I saw your trophies.”

He snorted. “Junior Hockey. It was nothing.”

“Nah, it was something,” I pressed. The beer’s encouragement canceled the discouragement I got from Shane’s wary look. “You know everything about me.”

He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. Everything?

it asked. But he sighed and shook his head.

“I played. I was going to be you. Well, more awkward and not as good, obviously, but I used to daydream about having what you have. Until…” He hesitated a moment, just enough to make me wonder if I was cruel for asking.

“Until I got hard checked in a really bad way. An accident. But it nearly broke my knee, tore my ligaments, had to have surgery, and spent a year recovering.”

“Oh, God, Shane, I’m sorry,” I said.

“No, don’t…don’t pity me,” he said. “It was a tough year. You’d be right to pity that kid because he just couldn’t accept how his life changed. But me? I’m fine. I learned I’d never be, um, popular or famous or rich or even just good at it.”

My heart sank a little. “Fuck. We don’t have to talk about it if it’s hard.”

“It’s not hard,” Shane said. “Not with you. I don’t know why I never mentioned it. I guess I didn’t want you to know that I’ll never be able to be more like you. It’s silly.”

“You don’t have to be like me,” I said. I was pretty sure I knew what he meant. “I like you because you’re different.”

Shane smiled and looked away, and then the smile faded. He must have had a fleeting thought, just like me, and he must have remembered that this was never going to work out.

We finished our drinks, and I went to the restroom. As I stepped out, I realized I wanted to stay with Shane. A bed awaited us in the house, and I just wasn’t ready to face a night of sleeping next to him. Not yet, anyway.

I headed for the bar without looking at Shane. I was afraid he would catch my gaze and signal that he wanted to leave. If I returned with drinks, he’d have to stay.

“Two small ones,” I said, pointing at the tap.

The bartender nodded and got down to work. Next to me, the girl with flaming red hair was alone. She was looking at me from under her long eyelashes.

“’Sup?” I asked. “How are you?”

“Having the time of my life,” she joked.

“Yeah, a sports bar with a pool table really is something special,” I said.

She laughed, her voice like smoke and honey. “Are you staying a while longer?” she asked.

I cracked a smile. It was my turn to ask her what she was drinking. But Shane was waiting for me. Then again, it was good luck to clear your mind the night before a big game. Not even just luck but basic logic. “Where’s your friend?” I asked.

She blinked so seductively, her eyes shining with cheeky cleverness. “Ah, he’s over there, charming your friend.”

Every hair on my body stood out. My gaze darted to Shane, chuckling and sitting stiffly in the booth while that handsome motherfucker told jokes or whatever.

Shane was awkward, but not awkward enough to put the guy off.

If anything, it was goddamn cute how shy and red he was, his eyes glimmering and his shoulders shaking as he laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry,” the girl said as I pushed myself a little away from the counter. “Ian’s a sweet guy.”

“Sure, sure,” I murmured, not actually sure what she had said.

I drifted across the bar, my stride becoming firmer as I neared them.

I didn’t look at the guy who dared come near Shane and risk breaking Shane’s heart.

Didn’t he fucking see Shane was more delicate than your onetime hookup?

Couldn’t he see he was making Shane nervous?

Did he think he could just slide in there, do a dirty, and disappear?

Not on my goddamn watch. “We should go,” I announced.