Page 22 of Game On

“I’m having dinner with the team at Bayside. Thought you might have some gossip on the guys. You know, like, who do I need to look out for for always ‘forgetting’ their wallet at home?” He made air quotes around forgetting. “Or who will get me rip-roaring drunk, then leave me passed out on their living room carpet? Or who will think it’s funny to tell me we’re meeting for drinks at one place when really, the plan is to go somewhere else entirely?”

Dorian’s gaze narrowed, turning shrewd. He stood slowly, his body uncurling to its full height. His voice dangerously low, he asked, “What kind of people were you playing with on the Cobras that that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, that’s not...” Jerking one shoulder in a half-shrug, Jamie dug his nail into the island counter. “Just... there are bad apples on every team.”

Dorian continued to stare at him. Jamie avoided his gaze, his own bouncing around the kitchen, taking in the dark wood cabinetry, the cream countertops, and the grey-ish/taupe-ish subway tile backsplash, and fought not to squirm.

He jumped when Dorian’s phone rang with an outgoing call. He’d called someone and put it on speaker?

“Hello?” came Brawsiski’s voice. “Dorian? Everything okay?”

“Hey, Blair, tell me something.” Dorian’s gaze was still on Jamie. “Are there any bad apples on your team?”

Silence. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Bad apples. Guys who will conveniently forget their wallet at home when you’re out for dinner or drinks, or tell someone that you’re supposed to meet at Bayside for dinner, for example, but everyone’s actually heading to?—”

“No,” Brawsiski cut in, a note of anger in his voice at... the thought of that happening? Jamie was confused. “There’s no one like that on the team. I’d vouch for every one of my teammates. And besides...” Brawsiski’s voice lowered. “Coach Shore has eyes and ears everywhere. If someone decided to be a dumbass, Shore would hear about it and bench the player. Nobody wants to get benched.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. Bye.”

Dorian hung up without another word.

It was Jamie’s turn to stare.

“Looks like you’re good,” Dorian said. “I trust Blair. I mean, I trust Charlie, and he trusts Blair, which means I trust Blair. I didn’t at first, but that was mostly because Blair didn’t have his priorities in order.”

Jamie blinked once. He didn’t know what to focus on first: Dorian calling Brawsiski or the news that Brawsiski was dating a guy. “I don’t under?—”

“What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re safe with the Orcas.”

Taken aback, Jamie searched for words and found none. His mind focused on two thoughts playing on a loop in his head.

I’m safe.

Dorian went above and beyond for me.

He wasn’t sure he believed that he was safe. It was hard to trust in that after everything that had happened. There was a part of Jamie that expected to be played for a fool. To be picked on and bullied.

And Dorian... He was... He was just... just...

You’re fucking stunning was all he could think, and he didn’t mean it in the physical sense, even though that was true too.

God. The fact that Dorian had reached out to ensure Jamie would be safe made him even more attractive to Jamie, and that was not good for their living situation. He needed to start apartment hunting. He needed a real estate agent.

He needed to launch himself across the island and attack Dorian’s lips with his own.

He needed to get out of here.

Now.

But he wanted more of Dorian, so what popped out of his mouth was, “Did you want to come to dinner? We could get to know the players together.”

Dorian considered him for a moment, a half-smile on his lips. “Thanks, but I don’t do hockey.”

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