Page 52 of The Blame Game

“No, there’s more to it than that,” Felix hollered from the tarmac. “I think it’s because someone claimed that the people who live here are full of hot air or maybe it was the politicians. I don’t remember.”

Jonah made a retching noise, bent over, and Felix patted his back, holding out a bottle of water like the dutiful fiancé he was.

Dom winced.

Poor Jonah. He hated flying to begin with and turbulence always made it so much worse. He’d lost his parents in a plane crash as a child, so who could blame him?

“So, who’s chirping the opposing team about being full of hot air tonight?” Matty asked ten minutes later when they were on the bus, heading to the hotel.

Dom gave him a pointed look. “Bud, the team is called the Chicago Windstorm. I’m pretty sure they’ve heard it all before.”

“True.” But Matty’s grin didn’t fade.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Dom asked, amused.

“Antoni woke up early to say goodbye.” Matty’s waggling eyebrows were in full effect and despite Dom’s dour mood, he huffed out a laugh.

“Happy for you, man,” he said with a shake of his head. He should have known better than to ask.

Matty, deliriously in love and getting laid on the regular, was both delightful and obnoxious.

It was good for the team to have him in high spirits, because Matty in a good mood was always contagious, giving the team energy when it was sorely needed. Dom occasionally wanted to smother him with a pillow to have a moment of quiet, but he was glad for his friend.

Happy Matty was infinitely better than Sad Matty.

Dom wished his own sex life was going as well.

He and Shea had been relegated to phone sex, even when they were both in Toronto.

It was the smart choice, with so many eyes on them, but it was enough to make Dom want to lose his goddamn mind.

His back hurt, half the city was talking about him, and he hadn’t had anything but phone sex in weeks.

No wonder he’d been playing like shit lately.

“Hey, Mom,” Shea said, frowning as he answered her call that night following dinner. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, I don’t need to have an occasion to call my son, do I?” she teased.

“Of course not,” he assured her, though for a very long time, she had only called on holidays and his birthday. “How are you?”

“Good! We’re offering a new class at the studio that I am very excited about.”

Shea loaded the dishwasher while he listened to his mom talk about the yoga and Pilates studio she ran and the wine and painting party she and her friends had gone to last week.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he said when she was done.

He suddenly imagined inviting Dom to do a paint n’ sip and had to a muffle a laugh. The thought of Dom willingly doing that was about as likely as Dom going down on one knee and proposing to Shea or saying he was sick of playing hockey.

“What about you?” she asked. “How have you been?”

“Oh, pretty good. I had a fun birthday,” Shea answered, since he hadn’t talked to her since then.

He told her about the courtside tickets from Travis, the comedy show, and the axe throwing.

“Since when do you go axe throwing?” she asked with a laugh.

“Don’t ask.” He loaded a sheet tray into the dishwasher. The axe throwing had been Kate’s idea.

---