Page 49 of Game On

“And then there was Lark Monaghan in tenth grade. We tried dating for a while, but he’d do this thing with his tongue and my ear that was all spit and made me want to hurl.”

“Obviously, he wasn’t doing it right,” Dorian murmured, and it was sultry and sexy and so damn suggestive that goosebumps travelled up Jamie’s spine.

Their gazes caught and held, the air between them thickening. Dorian was an outline against the porch light, bundled in a winter jacket, his thick hair giving him an additional three inches of height. Everything about the way he held himself spoke of confidence and poise. And everything about the way he looked at Jamie spoke of interest and desire.

Christ, Jamie was tempted. But hadn’t he just finished telling Dorian about the shit he’d put up with the last time he’d dated someone associated with his team?

Clearing his throat, he stepped away, putting an additional few inches between them. “In the interest of being honest...” He stopped there, debating if he should continue. Wasn’t it better to lay things out in the open, though? He’d made the mistake of not doing that with Scott and look where they’d ended up. “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that I’m attracted to you. And unless I’ve read things totally wrong, you’re attracted to me too.”

“I am,” Dorian said, quiet in the silence of the evening, but without a hint of hesitation.

For a wild and crazy second, Jamie almost jumped him. Was there anything sexier than a man readily admitting to being into you?

But...

But.

“After what happened with the Cobras when Scott and I broke up,” he said slowly, “I’m not comfortable dating someone so closely tied to the team.”

Comfortable wasn’t quite the right word, but it was the best he had.

And it was possible that dating wasn’t the right word either. If Dorian were anyone else, Jamie would date him in a hot second. But maybe all Dorian wanted was a quick fuck or a friends-with-benefits type of deal.

Dorian nodded. “Guess being your coach’s cousin is a check in the Not Dating Material column, huh?”

Jamie winced. “And the team’s social media coordinator. And my housemate. I mean, that’d make things awkward.” He paused. “Right?”

“Right. Trust me, we’re on the same page. So. Friends?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said. He should’ve felt better for laying everything out on the table. Instead, he felt a little like he had when he hadn’t made the NHL roster the year he’d been drafted.

Disappointed in himself.

Cursing himself for being unable to grasp the opportunity right in front of him.

Still, he said, “Friends.”

“Great.” Dorian smiled, big and toothy. Jamie pegged it as fake as shit in an instant. “Well, friend, I need to do some work on my website, so how about we get out of this cold? Poppy, come on.” She padded over from where she’d been sniffing at the fence line. “Let’s go inside.”

Dorian did a quick stoop and scoop, then he and Poppy walked up the porch steps, leaving Jamie as alone as he’d wanted to be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The following morning, Dorian didn’t bother politely buzzing up to Charlie’s apartment once and waiting for his cousin not to answer before laying on the buzzer. He just pressed the button and kept it pressed, imagining Charlie’s blood pressure rising at the sound.

As the baker for Vancouver’s NHL team, Charlie spent all day at the arena on game days. Dorian had checked before leaving the house, though, and the team had an away game today, meaning Charlie was home for Dorian to vent his frustrations on. And if he wasn’t home, then he’d be at Blair’s, in which case, Dorian would head over there and lay on the doorbell and generally make himself a nuisance until someone let him in.

The locks clicked as they disengaged, and Dorian swung into the building and onto the waiting elevator.

He let himself into Charlie’s apartment without knocking, and before Charlie could start complaining about texting and reiterating how he felt about unexpected visitors, Dorian let the door slam closed behind him and said, “You were right, okay?” He marched up to the kitchen counter, wedging himself between two barstools, and planted his hands flat on the countertop. “I am attracted to him. And what’s more, he’s attracted to me too, which honestly? Has been fairly obvious from the start.”

Charlie, wearing his pink I love big buns (and I cannot lie) apron, stood on the other side of the counter, wide-eyed, holding a mixing bowl of what was possibly pancake batter. “Um...”

“But apparently, I’m the trifecta of bad dating material, because not only am I his coach’s cousin, but I also work for the team, and I’m his damn housemate. And after what happened with his team in Charlotte, he’s not interested in dating anyone associated with the Orcas. And that’s perfectly reasonable, obviously, but what I heard was you’re not worth taking a risk on, Dorian. And I hate that my stupid brain went there when?—”

A clank came from behind him.

Dorian froze. Slowly, he pivoted on his heel.

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