Page 69 of Tempting

Thank you.

NIXON

Ilook up from the ice as we’re all skating off at the end of practice to find Hunter talking with our assistant coach, Jace Kingston. Pretty sure he’s Jace and Deacon’s agent too. Ironically, Dad was one of his first clients back in the day. Now he represents all three of his sons.

Oh yeah, and he’s pissed as hell. “Sinclair,” he calls out, and Leo shoves me.

“You’re the Sinclair in trouble this time, asshat,” Leo throws my way as he skates off like a little bitch who wants to avoid guilt by association.

I skate over to the boards and wait for him to finish his talk with Jace.

Then he waits for Jace to walk away before turning his pissed-off glare my way.

You,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea how big the wait-list is to be one of my clients? That’s right, asshole. I said wait-list. Athletes are waiting for me to take them on. Begging for me to help them. And you, you little shitstain. You, who was still a sperm in your daddy’s dick when I made my first million, can’t be bothered to pick up the goddamned phone. What the actual fuck, Sinclair? If Declan wasn’t one of my first fucking clients—and someone I consider an actual friend in a business where you don’t make friends—I’d shitcan your fucking ass.”

“I can’t talk here, man,” I tell him as I look around to see who’s paying attention, and he whistles like he’s awed.

“Holy fucking shit, ladies and gentlemen, he can speak.”

“Hunt—”

“No. Shut the fuck up. Your time to speak was any time over the past few weeks. Now, you listen. You’re going to get changed, and then you and me, we’re going to drive to your house, and you’re going to tell me where your fucking head’s at, because it sure isn’t attached to your goddamn shoulders right now, man.”

“Leo will be at my place,” I tell him, not sure I want my brother involved in this meeting but knowing this is on me.

“Not my fucking problem. I could be home in my bed, fucking my wife today. Have you seen my wife, Sinclair? She’s incredible. Smart and sweet and so goddamned sexy. She’s also off on Thursdays. And do you know what we do when she’s off on Thursdays?”

Pretty sure answering that is career suicide.

We stare at each other, neither of us willing to budge until Hunter finally breaks.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Fucking go. I don’t have all goddamned day.” He looks away with a cocky grin. “Fucking lucky I like you, kid.”

“Doesn’t hurt that you’ve made millions off me already either, Hunt.” He’s not the only cocky fuck standing here. He’s just louder about it.

“Yeah, that doesn’t hurt. Now go before I get really mad.”

I wait for another minute, just to get under his skin, then head for the locker room.

Hunter looks ridiculous sitting at my kitchen table in his fifteen-thousand-dollar Brioni suit. “What the fuck is your dog doing?”

“Who the fuck wears a fuzzy suit anyway? Gordie probably thinks you killed his brother and wrapped him around your legs,” Leo asks him before he pets Gordie on the head and sits down across from Hunter.

“Someone who can buy and sell you without blinking an eye, Leo. And it’s cashmere, not fucking fur. Now how about you run along and let the men talk.”

“Why you gotta be like that, Hunt?” Leo asks, and I laugh before he points at me. “The walls are thin. Just ask your girlfriend. I’m going to hear everything you say anyway.”

“You repeat a fucking word of it, and I’ll tell Dad about the time you lost his Super Bowl ring and didn’t tell him about it,” I warn.

“I found it before he even realized it was missing,” Leo tries to defend himself.

“You found it three months later. You’re just fucking lucky he never gave a shit about those things. Now sit down. Shut up. And don’t repeat a goddamn word. Got it?”

Leo mimes zipping his lips, and I’m not sure who looks more annoyed, Hunter or me.

“I think having him here is a bad idea. But it’s your funeral, Nixon.”

I shrug and wait, bracing for the blowback because there’s no way this is going to go well.

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