Page 61 of Game On

Poppy was different. Jamie couldn’t say why—perhaps it had something to do with how she’d so quickly burrowed under Dorian’s skin and exposed his mushy side.

Letting out a quiet breath, he ran a hand over his jaw, the bristles rough on his palm. “I should be home in a couple of minutes.”

“Wonderful. I was afraid I’d have to tell them to turn back.”

She might not want to, but Jamie did.

“Their names are Ben and Rebecca Helkio. You’ll let me know how it goes?”

“Sure,” he said, forcing a smile into his voice. “Of course.”

They hung up, Jamie’s stomach hovering somewhere near his toes. He was sad already, and Poppy wasn’t even gone yet.

And how would Dorian take it? Poppy had clearly imprinted on him, but Dorian had imprinted on the dog just as strongly.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

Would Dorian finally admit that Poppy was his as surely as he was hers, now that he was about to be faced with the possibility of losing her?

Christ, Jamie hoped so.

“Everything okay?” Brawsiski asked, pulling up to the curb outside Dorian’s house.

Jamie blew out a breath. “We’re about to find out.”

Inside the house, they left their boots and outerwear in the front hallway and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. Dorian and another man—shorter, blonder, and very cute in an elfin way compared to Dorian’s brash sexiness—sat on barstools at the kitchen island. A handful of empty cake jars were on the counter. Poppy sat between them, alert and waiting for scraps, probably not getting any since chocolate was bad for dogs.

The sight of her made Jamie’s throat go thick.

“Hey,” the shorter blonder cute guy, who must be Charlie, said. He tipped his head back when Brawsiski rounded the island, accepting a brief hello kiss. “How was practice?”

“Good,” Brawsiski said while Jamie contemplated Dorian’s half-finished cake jar.

Dorian noticed him eyeing it and hugged it to his chest.

Jamie pouted.

“Oh, don’t make that face at me, hotshot,” Dorian said with an eye roll. “There’s more for you in the fridge. This is my cousin, by the way. Jamie, Charlie. Charlie, Jamie.”

Jamie extended a hand and tried to suss out whether Dorian had told him about his subscription box. Probably not given his office door was closed. “Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Charlie said with a grin. He was the light to Dorian’s shadows, and Jamie could see how they might’ve complemented each other growing up. “You’ve been having a great season with the Orcas so far.”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better group of guys to be playing for.”

Brawsiski made a noise of assent. “Damn right.”

“So, uh...” Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to Dorian. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Sure.” Dorian rose and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, filling them with water. He handed one to Brawsiski and one to Jamie. “What’s up?”

“There’s a couple—wait. Are you going somewhere? You’re dressed for work.”

Dorian glanced down at himself. He wore fitted leopard-print slacks in shades of blue, a maroon shirt, and a fitted open-front knit cardigan in a cheetah print that hit him at mid-thigh. He looked as edible as he had when he’d been wearing those harem pants and crop top on Jamie’s first night here.

“That’s because I am,” Dorian said. “Working, I mean. I’m covering your game tonight.”

“Right, but the game’s not for, like...” Jamie checked the time on the microwave. “Seven hours.”

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