Page 15 of Body Check

Clearly that hadn’t been enough to sustain the marriage. Then again, Dakota knew better than most that good looks and attraction didn’t mean shit when it came to maintaining a relationship.

“Yeah. You know, I don’t really have time to date.” Gavin shrugged. “So I use the hookup apps.”

“Sure, I’m familiar,” Dakota said drily.

Gavin shot him another closed-lip smirk. “Well, I had things lined up with a guy last night. I was planning to go straight from the arena to his place, but I got caught up in an impromptu meeting with one of the team owners and …”

“You couldn’t exactly tell him you were late for a hookup and duck out quickly,” Dakota guessed.

“Ahh, no.” Gavin huffed out a laugh. “I’m grateful they’ve been on board with having a gay GM and are supporting Connor and Jesse’s relationship but …”

“I get it,” Dakota said.

Because he’d been worried about even beinghiredby the franchise. Violet had assured him the organization was accepting, and finding out Gavin was gay had relieved a lot of those worries too, but it was still something they both had to carefully navigate. No matter how far hockey had come in the past few years, it wasn’t the same as being straight. A guy never knew when he’d run up against a pocket of homophobia where he least expected it.

Gavin continued. “So the guy was understandably pissed. He said he might have some free time today, but I have a feeling he’ll leave me twisting in the wind for a while, to pay me back.”

“He can’t possibly be the only guy in the greater Boston area who’s willing to suck your dick,” Dakota said, because Gavin was exactly the sort of man who would do numbers on a hookup app. Shit, it was probably a miracle they hadn’t accidentally matched on there already, since it was proximity based.

He imagined both their phones pinging as they passed in the hallways of HCI and stifled a smile.

Gavin laughed. “No. Probably not. But I think I might be developing a bit of a reputation for being unreliable. I can’t tell you how often I have to cancel.”

“Damn, that sucks.”

“Or,notas the case may be.”

Dakota laughed because, to his surprise, he was actually enjoying this conversation. Either the Irish whiskey had loosened Gavin up or they were actually starting to build some sort of camaraderie.

Maybe both.

“Well, good luck tonight,” Dakota said. “And for what it’s worth, I wholeheartedly support you doing whatever it takes to get rid of that headache.”

“Do you tell the guys on the team that?” Gavin smirked.

Dakota recoiled. “No! Of course not. They’re … you’re acolleague, that’s different. Uhh, well, maybe that’s overstating my role in the organization since you’re my boss, but …”

Gavin’s smirk turned to a look of chagrin.

“I was kidding. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were anything less than professional. And yes, we are colleagues. I—” He ran a hand through his short hair, letting out a sigh. “I’m not always great at knowing where that line is, I suppose.”

“What line?” Dakota asked slowly.

“The one between work colleagues and bosses and actual friends.”

“Ahh.” Dakota nodded. “It can be tricky. I feel like hockey—maybe all sports—make that especially hard. It seems like every guy has played with someone else within the organization or their brother and there are all these connections and …”

“Yes, exactly.” Gavin looked relieved. “You get it.”

“I do,” Dakota said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone buzzed in his pocket, demanding his attention.

He fished it out and saw it was a text from his sister, asking if he’d be home for dinner. She and Jeff and the kids had done a Turkey Trot 5k race in Franklin Park that morning, then had an early meal with Jeff’s family after.

Dakota had been invited to both, but he had no desire to get up earlyorrun, and he’d thought it would be a good idea for at least one of them to put in an appearance at the O’Sheas’ event.

But he’d had a surprisingly nice time and stayed a lot longer than he’d expected.

He fired off an answer saying he’d be home soon, but he wasn’t interested in eating. In fact, he might not need to eat for three days after how well the O’Sheas had fed them at the midday meal.

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