Page 19 of Power Play

No one is. Including me. I hook up with women that I have no emotional attraction to, and Sawyer unfortunately does not fall into the category. Although, fuck, I wish she did.

“What’s that look for, man? Everything okay?” Trevor asks as he sits in the chair next to me.

“There’s no look. I’m fine,” I snap.

“You look like someone just took your toy without asking,” he snickers.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot. No, I don’t. I’m literally just sitting here watching you fools.”

“No. You’re sitting here brooding while watching Sawyer help Harris out with his pool ‘technique.’ I can see the annoyance written all over your face.”

“I—” Before I can even try to come up with some bullshit excuse, Sawyer leans around behind Harris to help adjust his arms for his shot. I feel the fury start in my toes and fingers and slowly slither its way to my chest until I feel like I’m going to explode. At that moment, Harris looks back at me and winks.

It takes everything in me not to get up and rip him away from her, but Trevor’s laugh stops me. Looking at him, I see a light in his eyes that I want to extinguish. He thinks this is fucking hilarious. I wonder how funny he’ll think it is when I kick Harris’s ass and make him deal with it.

It wouldn’t be the first time, and it sure as hell won’t be the last time. After all, we are hockey players. We’re used to kicking people’s asses, and on occasion getting our own asses handed to us. But that’s how we solve things. That’s why, when you’re watching hockey and there’s a fight, most of them end in a pat on the arm or a smile and laugh. It solves our issues.

“Why are you laughing now?” I ask, my knuckles turning white around my beer.

“Because you’re going all caveman over a woman you’ve met twice. Plus, Harris is doing all of this on purpose, and you know it,” Trevor says, nodding towards Harris.

“I. Am. Not. A. Caveman,” I snarl.

“Yeah, you’re doing a great job of proving that.”

“Shut up, Trevor.”

“I’m just glad to see you’re capable of more than just a blank stare towards a woman, especially someone as hot as she is.”

I glare at Trevor, who immediately lifts his hands in surrender. If he doesn’t stop intentionally pushing my buttons, I’m going to intentionally punch him in the nose.

“I mean for you. You know she’s not my type,” Trevor adds quickly.

Even I can admit he’s right. She is fucking hot. But that’s not even all of it. There’s just something so captivating about her beyond just being a pretty face.

“Of course she’s not your type. She’s not your coach’s daughter,” I say.

Trevor glares at me but doesn’t give me a response. He’s a forward for the New York Cyclones and has had a crush on his coach’s daughter for a while now, but even he’s not stupid enough to go down that route. His coach would kill him, plus, she’s a little on the wild side for Trevor.

“All I’m saying is that you’re allowed to have fun, get out sometimes, and get to know someone without always feeling guilty. A date or two doesn’t mean you’re getting down on one knee,” Trevor says seriously, more serious than most people ever see him be. “Just because you meet someone and like their company, maybe even spend some time together, doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. Ro will always be your priority, but you still matter.”

“I hear you, and honestly, I wish it were that simple. I don’t have time like I used to, and any time that I do have, I spend with her. Before anything, I’m still her dad.”

“But before you were her dad, you were just Rex. You’re allowed to still be him. Plus, Mr. I-have-no-time, you’re out tonight,” Trevor counters, slowly succeeding at poking holes in my reasoning—not that I’d ever admit it.

“Yeah, but that’s because Stella and her are having a girl’s night at my place. It’s not like I’m free all night. As soon as we’re done here, I’ll be heading home and resuming dad duties while Stella sleeps in as usual.”

“So? That shouldn’t stop you from having fun right now, should it?” he counters.

“No, but I find it pointless to start something that we all know is going to end.”

“Why do you say it’s going to end?”

“It’s just what happens. Everyone always leaves. My past is proof, so why would this be any different?”

“Because she’s not—” I cut him off before he finishes his sentence. I am not in the mood to hear that name, it’s one we rarely speak of, and I know with this much alcohol in me right now that if he says it, I’m going to throat punch him.

“For the love of God, change the fucking subject. Should we talk about you and Claire?”

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