Page 87 of The Blame Game

The aging player—whose game has suffered in the past few seasons—is currently out on injured reserve with an unknown injury.

With months left on his contract and little talk of a new one pending, is Olson perhaps beginning to consider his life outside of hockey?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I love all of you on this team, but some days, you try my patience.” Kate sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“At least they weren’t speculating about a suicide attempt?” Dom said weakly.

Kate jerked upright, staring at him intently. “That wasn’t …”

“No!” Dom grimaced. “Bad joke. I’m a dumbass, not suicidal.”

“I won’t argue with the first part.” Her gaze searched his face. “You swear you’re doing okay mentally though?”

He shrugged. “I’m not great. Honestly, things are shit right now for me but I’m definitely not any danger to myself except through careless decisions.”

“I’m very glad to hear it. Although speaking of …” She leveled Dom with a look. “You went to Shea’s place after the team got home last night?”

Dom swallowed hard. That was what he was there to discuss. “He was the one who was on the phone with me when—when I started slurring my words and stuff. The one who noticed something was wrong and got me to knock on Dustin’s door.”

“Ahh.” Her expression softened.

“He was worried about me and I wanted to apologize. For putting him through that. I freaked him out.”

“I understand that.” Kate gave him another searching look. “However, I thought you said this was just sex. Or, I’m sorry, I believe you said ‘we are uh, involved, but it’s not what I’d call love’.”

Dom laughed at her imitation of his voice before he grew serious again. “Maybe things are … shifting a little.” He looked down at his clasped hands.

Because he could admit that whatever had been happening with Shea lately was different than it had been before the fire.

There had been a certain separation between them before, a certain distance.

They’d enjoyed their time together and they’d connected on a more personal level over hockey but it wasn’t … it didn’t feel like it did now.

There was a reason Dom hadn’t wanted to kiss Shea before. A reason why they hadn’t showered together or spent the night together. Why they hadn’t slept in each other’s beds.

But dealing with the fire, spending time with Shea outside of apartment 571 in the High Park Towers building, getting to know him and his friends, and then Shea saving his life …

Yeah, it had changed things.

Dom glanced up to see Kate still looking at him with a concerned expression. God, he hated that.

“Well, that’s understandable,” she said slowly. “And if you do change your mind on any of this—how you want to manage the press or what you want to be open about, any of it—you can tell me, you know that right? I am happy to help you pivot in whatever direction you want to go.”

“I know that,” he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. Kate meant well but everyone’s concern was getting irritating as hell. “And I appreciate it. For now, let’s go forward as planned. You’ll work your magic. I’ll take Audra to the charity thing. And hopefully people buy what we’re selling.”

Kate glanced down at the photo on her tablet. “You would make a lovely couple.”

Dom snorted. “She’d eat me alive.”

Kate grinned. “I think I like her already.”

“You would like her,” Dom agreed. “But unfortunately, she’s not my type.”

He slumped back in his chair. It would be so much fucking easier if she was.

“Hey, we don’t choose who we fall for,” Kate said gently.

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