Page 29 of Scoring Zone
He’s so kissable. I should’ve noticed before Vegas.
“More like they don’t want their captain to beat the crap out of their friend and trainer who patches them up.”
“Same difference,” he says.
My stomach swoops remembering him pressed against me earlier, and I need that again.
“Will you be in the locker room for the next dance party to ensure my hips are moving in the right direction?” I ask without thinking.
“If your hips move in the wrong direction, that’s a huge medical issue.” He bites his lip. A lip I’d love to lick. “I’d love to help you keep rhythm but…” He trails off, and I feel stupid.
“No, you’re right. You have a job and can’t worry about my hips.” The heat of my embarrassment creeps up my neck and across my face.
He stands abruptly. “Don’t worry, Tinny. I’ll always worry about your hips.” He winks with a sly smile and strides quickly into his room.
He winked at me.
What does that mean?
All I know is that his hands are capable of magic, and it might kill me if he never touches me again. Every day is harder thanthe last to do the right thing, especially when Gray isn’t afraid of what I might do to him.
Chapter 14
Grayson
Volunteering at Q Solutions without Austin is a welcome distraction. Benz has been here regularly without the team, so he knows all the workers and most of the kids. We’re in the industrial kitchen, and I’m at the steel island, cutting vegetables for a salad as the stew bubbles on the stove, filling the air with spices. Benz said he’d get me a bowl, but he’s trapped King in the kitchen’s alcove.
Ari Dimon, our GM, started the tradition of the team volunteering here. It’s a fantastic organization that helps at-risk queer kids and also has outreach programs to aid individuals experiencing homelessness. As a team, we volunteer outside of the PR days to bring awareness to the incredible things they do for the LGBTQ community. I swear, we get more out of it than the kids. At first, they’re excited to meet the players, but the kids quickly realize the guys are normal dudes, and it’s humbling.
Thousands of fans tell our players they’re amazing, but one pimple-faced kid drags you and it puts life in perspective. Theclients here think I’m funny because I tell them they’re more likely to achieve a career in my job than become an NHL player. As if simply knowing the team gives them an edge even though they’ve never played hockey. The staff backs me up, and that gives me smug satisfaction. Teenagers are the best and the worst.
I try to catch King’s eye to find out if he needs rescuing, but he doesn’t look my way. Benzy is the best, but he can be a lot. The drama over King’s statements to the blogger has died down, but there’s so much hate on the internet that it’s hard to avoid. There have been people who’ve blamed me for players’ injuries, so even I’m not immune to it.
“Hey, need help?” Austin stands beside me and bumps my shoulder.
“I thought you had a thing tonight.” My voice cracks with surprise. It’s an almost out-of-body experience to suppress my instinct to reach for him. I’m in perpetual purgatory, which I guess is redundant, but I feel it so hard. We’ve gotten over the awkwardness, but there’s an underlying tension. It’s sexual tension on my part. I’m so in my head about acting appropriately around him that I can’t figure out why he’s tense.
“It was canceled, so I came to help out. Did you miss me?” His shy smile should not make my heart skip a beat.
I chastise myself with the reminder that I can look, but I can’t touch. The universe gave me a mind-blowing night with my BFF, then determined that’s all I get. At this point, I’m not sure if I’d do it again if I’m not guaranteed a happy ending. The one where we sleep together all the time.
“Always.” I bump him back. We’ve spent the last few days sort of flirting, but not doing anything about it. He’s so subtle I’m not totally sure if he’s teasing or seducing me. He’s increasing the number of sticky notes he leaves me. On some he’s drawn afunny face with “gotcha” and others say “thinking of you.” I’m a masochist who considers the funny verses sweet.
He grabs another knife to help me cut.
My suspicion that his darkness represents his repressed feelings worries me. I’d prefer to ignore the issue and jump into bed for beg-for-it-again sex. But that’s shortsighted. It could ruin us both.
Above all, I’m his friend. A friend who desperately wants to change his mind about there being something wrong with him. These issues are beyond my pay grade. In my opinion, he needs a therapist, but he has to come to that decision himself. Forced therapy is a recipe for disaster.
“What’s going on over there?” He lifts his chin toward Benz and King.
“Not sure, but King might need a rescue. They could be having a great heart-to-heart, or Benz could be telling him about the benefits of every single crystal in existence.” My voice is low, and Austin moves closer. He smells like vanilla, so lickable.
“I’ll see what’s up.” He wanders away.
This can only end badly for me. I’ve loved Austin like a brother, and wanting more is selfish. He’s not in a place for a relationship. Ugh, I’ve fallen into the age-old complication of unrequited love with my best friend. So cliché.
I mean lust.
