Page 24 of Dirty Dare

But damned if it isn’t nice to be able to share it with him.

Cam nods. “What’s she hearing?”

“That Boomer’s looking good. He’s been working with trainers, getting on the ice every chance he’s got.”

“Boomer? That’s the player you were filling in for?”

“Yeah. Ben Boerboom.”

“You ever meet him?” he asks, wincing like it would be weird, but I laugh him off.

“After they cleared him to start working out again. Nice guy, funny. But not what I was expecting.”

Cam lifts a brow, always more curious about the person than the player.

“It’s like Boomer’s got the rep. About everything. He’s some epic goof. He’s a hothead. He’s the biggest player on the team. All these larger-than-life labels, but I didn’t really see it. Yeah, he’s kind of over-the-top, but when it comes to his game the guy is serious as a heart attack. And as far as women? He seemed more concerned about what was happening with his buddy and little sister than making nice with the bunnies hanging around outside the arena.”

Cam chuckles. “You like him.”

“I like all of them.” I tilt my beer back, let the cool liquid roll over my tongue, and then take a slow breath. “It’s such a weird spot to be in. My moving up means someone else moving on. Moving over.”

“Moving out of your way.”

Yeah. That.

“I want to play. Fuck, I want it so bad. Even more so now that I’ve had the chance to get out there with the team. And it was good.” I meet Cam’s eyes, letting him see everything in mine. “If I had the chance, it would only get better. I know it would.”

“You were amazing out there. Can’t believe what you can do, Trev. And whoever makes the decisions on this stuff saw it too. They’re going to want you back.”

I rub at the spot in my chest that warms from his praise, the conviction in his voice even though hockey isn’t something he’s ever really followed and doesn’t know much about. It means something that he believes in me.

“I’ve been fighting to beat out other players, friends, guys who want it every bit as bad as me, for as far back as I can remember. And yeah, you always feel for the guys who didn’t make it. But it’s okay, because you know going in… you’re all fighting for something that doesn’t belong to anyone yet. But this?”

“Hey.” He leans forward, giving my arm a squeeze and then brushing the skin with his thumb. “You can’t feel bad about wanting a spot. I know you’ve got a big heart, but so far as I understand it, hockey is like every other competitive sport out there. You get to keep your wins and trophies. Your stats. That stuff is yours.

“But your spot in the lineup? Your time on the ice? That you have to keep fighting for, every single game, meet, match, whatever. And every athlete at your level knows it. Right? It’s not personal. It’s not like you’re starting a smear campaign or spreading misinformation. You’re playing your hardest, because that’s your job. And if they ask you back, it’s because they believe you’re going to make the team stronger than it would be without you.”

I nod, afraid to open my mouth. Because the words are there, ready to jump the boards to get out. Christ, I want to say it.

I love you.

I feel it like a physical thing. But breaking all our rules is no way to repay this man for saying exactly what I need to hear.

* * *

Cam

It’s too easy imagining this man in my life beyond the two weeks we have left together. Two weeks. Every time I think about that ticking clock and what my life is going to look like after Trevor’s gone, my chest gets that unnatural, too-tight feeling of holding my breath at the bottom of the pool.

I don’t like it, but I just keep diving back in regardless. Because this, the way things have been between us since he got back here, is everything.

We’ve been together every night. Sometimes at his place. Sometimes at mine. Always when we close our eyes and still when we pry them open in the morning.

It’s so good, but it’s just a fling.

I try to convince myself that’s the magic of it— the whole no-expectations-beyond-the-end-of-the-month thing. That we’re living outside of reality, and that’s why it’s so easy, so effortless.

Maybe I’d be able to believe my own bull if it wasn’t for one little thing… we’ve been here before.

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