Page 206 of The Blame Game

The guy kissed the top of his head, holding him close before they straightened.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dom glanced over to see Dustin peering at him with a worried frown. “Huh?”

“Are you okay? You paused in your warmup. You never pause.”

Dom swallowed and reached up to rub his face with his gloved hand, obscuring his mouth from the cameras. “Christian’s here.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. Threw me for a fucking loop.”

“You okay?”

“No, but I’ll deal with it after the game.”

Dustin nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Dom nodded, turning away, but Dustin caught his elbow.

“I mean it.”

Dom met his gaze. “So do I.”

Dustin let go and Dom returned to his warmup routine, determined to put Christian from his mind.

This was the playoffs. There was no room for errors.

Nothing existed except for hockey. Not his ex-boyfriend, not the worry over Joe selling info about their private lives.

Win or lose, Dom’s time on the ice was winding down and he intended to make the most of it.

“Olson, someone’s here to see you!” a voice called out, following the game.

“Be out in a sec!” he shouted back. He finished fiddling with his hair, washed his hands, then grabbed his toiletry kit.

“Old teammate?” Matty asked with a smile as he turned to go.

“Could be.” Dom shrugged, because the truth was, he had no idea.

But somewhere, in the pit of his stomach, he knew. Had known this moment was coming since he saw Christian in the crowd.

Dom had made it through the game okay. He hadn’t wowed anyone with his play but he hadn’t totally fucked it up either and the team had managed a win. That was all that mattered.

He tossed his kit in his bag, then squared his shoulders and walked toward whatever lay outside the doors.

Most of his teammates ignored him, too wrapped up in what they were doing to pay attention, or assuming—like Matty had—that a former teammate had stopped by to see him.

Only Dustin’s gaze was heavy with concern and Dom shook it off. He’d talk to Dustin later.

He had to face this first.

When Dom stepped through the doors into the hallway, Christian stood a few feet away, dressed in an LA Suns jersey, skinny jeans, and sneakers.

His expression was hesitant.

“Hey. Wasn’t sure if you’d come out,” Christian said, then winced. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean—”

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