Page 55 of Body Check

ELEVEN

The remainder of the California trip was uneventful.

The team lost to LA in overtime, though it had been a tighter game than expected, and although Gavin hadn’t had any luck in getting Jed Reilly to commit to a trade, they had enough of an understanding that Gavin was hopeful it would amount to something eventually.

Gavin had been tempted to message Dakota and see how he was feeling about things since the encounter with Thad, but Dakota had been cool toward him, rebuffing any attempts to talk in person.

After they arrived back home, Gavin did what he did best, buried his head in work.

He went to a shitload of meetings, attended games, and spent a lot of time either on the phone or staring at his computer screen. There were always scouting reports to review, updates on how their AHL affiliate in Concord, Massachusetts, was doing, and player metrics to look over.

All teams were beefing up their analytics departments and Boston was no exception. They had a good set of statistics nerds working out of the head office who were constantly sending him reports and breakdowns.

Gavin couldn’t say that was hisfavoritepart of his work, but it was important, so he focused on it to the exclusion of pretty much everything else, and by Saturday morning as he drove to HCI, he once again had a raging headache.

Because the team had been on the road, he and Dakota had skipped last week’s in-person yoga session, but Gavin was looking forward to the one today.

Not only because doing yoga had proven beneficial, but because it would be a chance to be alone with Dakota.

But Dakota was all business when he arrived. His hair was pulled back in a stubby little bun that made Gavin think of him dancing in the club in LA, and when Gavin attempted to start a friendly conversation, Dakota rebuffed him.

“So, we’re going to focus on your calves, hamstrings, and glutes today,” he said briskly, his tone at odds with the mellow music playing in the background. “Word of warning, you’ll probably hate this even more than the work on your feet and ankles.”

“Oh good,” Gavin muttered under his breath. “Can’t wait.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Dakota snapped.

“I do!” Gavin protested. “I do. Sorry.”

Dakota was right. It was hell.

Gavin did his best to breathe through it like Dakota instructed but it was a struggle and by the time they were done, Gavin feltlike a limp, sodden towel. It was both better and worse than last time, and he lay there on the mat, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how he wasevergoing to convince himself to get upright again.

“How’s your head?” Dakota asked, his tone softer now.

He’d lost the brittle edge as the session went on, softening into the more familiar warmth and ease Gavin was used to seeing from him lately.

“Better,” Gavin admitted. “Kinda thinking about never getting up off these mats again though. I live here now. Bring me my laptop and some food and I’m good to go.”

Dakota laughed. “Well, it’s up to you, but I think some people will be less than thrilled.”

“Probably.” Still, Gavin didn’t get up, just let his head loll to the side. “Hey, so, can we talk?”

Next to him, Dakota drew his knees up against his chest. “About what?”

“About … whatever?” he offered. “I hate the way we left things in LA.”

Dakota glanced toward the door and Gavin followed his line of vision. It was tightly shut, the facility still more or less empty at this hour.

“I mean, it looks like you were right,” Dakota said slowly. “Thad obviously hasn’t said anything to the ownership group, or we’d have heard about it.”

“Agreed.”

“But I can’t help but feel like it’s stupid for us to risk it again.”

“Probably,” Gavin agreed.

“There’s the Code of Conduct too, you know.”

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