Page 50 of Heart Taker

“Earth to Silas?”

“I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “Promise.”

“Then let’s get back to it.”

I nodded and placed my towel and water bottle on the bench behind the boards. Dane and the rest of the guys rejoined us, and we played a quick game of three-on-three.

I didn’t see Damien’s return so much as feel his presence nearby, and I couldn’t help the shiver of awareness that snaked up my spine, goosebumps popping up all over my skin. It tookeverything in menotto look over at him. I could pretend my reaction was due to the cold air but that would be total bullshit. But this recognition of him, or whatever the hell was going on, was disturbing as fuck. I wasn’t in sync with other people that way, except when it came to hockey. Outside of the rink, my teammates, and my family, I was a loner at heart, and I fully accepted the fact. I didn’t need or want anything from anyone else. So why did I feel this connection to Damien? Okay, he was smoking hot, but so what? I noticed plenty of guys and that was nothing more than sex. I wasn’t curious to “get to know them,” not even Darby. I was satisfied with getting off and getting gone. But Damien? I wanted to talk to him, to tell him stuff I didn’t talk about with anyone.

Even worse? I wanted him to do the same with me.

No. No way. That line of thinking was asking for trouble I didn’t need.

How about you refer to him as Coach or Banning instead? Keep some of that distance you’re so good at maintaining with everyone else?

Right. Exactly. I would do that.

“Time for lunch, guys. Leave your sticks on the bench,” Banning called out, and we all came to a sudden stop. “Meet up in the lounge.”

Coach—see, I could do this—stalked off before anyone could reply. We skated off the ice and headed for the locker room, quickly changing out of our gear and into jeans and sweatshirts, and headed for the equally drafty breakroom, or the lounge, as we preferred to call it. With two couches and a couple of chairs, the space was small and cramped when the entire team was here. Given there were only seven of us now, Banning included, it was a perfect fit. There was a table set up against the far wall, and on it, trays of sandwiches and wraps, bowls of fruit, and desserts, along with bottles of Gatorade, juice, and water. I wasthe last one in line and snagged two turkey wraps, an apple, and an orange Gatorade, and then plunked myself down on one of the couches.

Of course, there was only one seat left, and I was sitting directly across from Damien… Banning. Then I noticed that he had the same exact lunch as me.

“I think you forgot something,” Damien muttered and pointed to my plate.

I stared at him, confused.

“You’re going to need more than two wraps to keep you energized for this afternoon,” he added with a smirk.

“I’ll grab another one in a bit,” I replied. “Make that two.”

I took a big bite of the first wrap and groaned loudly in appreciation. The soft tortilla was stuffed with smoky bacon, thick slices of turkey, tomato, and a ranch dressing that tasted homemade.

Banning raised one eyebrow.

“What? It’s damn good,” I stated.

Banning shifted in his seat and then finally began to eat. My eyes caught on his mouth, and the way he licked his lips after taking a mouthful of his sandwich. The guy made everything, including eating, look sexy, and I couldn’t look away from his lips.

Stop eye-fucking your coach…

I forced my gaze back to my plate. Until I heard Damien’s rumbling groan. When I glanced up again, he was halfway through his wrap.

“See?” I smirked knowingly.

“Eat, don’t talk,” Banning grumbled in response.

Despite his snarky comment, I caught the humorous glint in those stunning eyes, like we were sharing an inside joke. The joke was all on me at this point. If Damien knew what I wasthinking right now, he’d tell me to get out of this rink, and this team, for good.

Thankfully, Finn sat beside me and began to chatter away, distracting me.

Once everyone downed enough food to refuel, Damien set up his laptop and a mini projector so we could watch replays of past games. Our games and pro ones too. We spent over an hour reviewing the plays and bouncing ideas off one another. From forechecking, to maintaining puck possession to power play execution, it was all on the table. During the regular season, I’d often stay silent when it came to these types of discussions. I played by instinct, not analysis. But this camp wasn’t about watching from the sidelines or doing our usual. Damien demanded that weallparticipate, even me, even if it meant forcing myself outside of my comfort zone.

I thought I’d be bored as fuck, but it turned out to be the total opposite. Being in a smaller group was helping me focus.

It also made me aware of Damien in a way that was fucking intense. I wanted more of his attention and not all of it was about hockey. Fuck me, this hard-on I had for him was getting out of hand.

Hockey was a high-risk sport. My reaction to Damien, even more so.

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