Page 153 of The Blame Game

“Yeah? Who?” Shea tilted his head back, letting an oyster slide from its shell into his mouth.

He licked his lips after and Dom had to shift in his seat.

He needed to stop doing this to himself.

He’d had the same problem when they had the seafood tower before the basketball game. Shea eating oysters was way too suggestive.

“Oh, ah, La Bouche and Murphy.”

“Right, you and Murphy talked when the team was playing in Evanston.”

“We did,” Dom agreed. At the time, he hadn’t quite understood why Murphy had bothered to reach out but he’d seemed pleased that Dom had finally gotten around to texting him and they’d been messaging sporadically since.

“So what did they suggest?”

“Taking some university classes.”

Shea gave him a thoughtful look. “Oh, that’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s not,” Dom agreed.

“Do you think you’ll do that?”

“I should,” he admitted, setting down an empty oyster shell with a sigh. “And Murphy has me considering a role in the head office after retirement.”

“Yeah?”

Dom nodded. “I’m not sure what exactly. Scouting, maybe?”

“Hmm. You’d be gone a lot,” Shea said and his tone was very neutral but he didn’t quite meet Dom’s gaze. “Do you like travel?”

“Travel in the off-season, absolutely,” Dom said. “I usually take a few weeks in Europe. But constantly living out of suitcases? I don’t know. That sounds exhausting.”

“It does.”

“So maybe not scouting,” Dom said thoughtfully.

The waiter came to clear away the remnants of their appetizer and when they had salads in front of them, Shea said, “What about sports or exercise psychology?”

Dom made a face at his greens. “No thank you. I think working with Ronnie is more than enough psychology for me.”

“How is that going?” Shea asked. “You haven’t said much about it.”

“Okay. I don’t think talking to him is horrible or anything. It’s just …”

“You’re emotionally locked down tighter than an oyster,” Shea pointed out.

Wincing, Dom gave him a weak smile. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You’re getting better.” Shea’s tone was very diplomatic.

Dom laughed. “Fuck you. I’m trying.”

“Hey.” Shea reached across the table, hesitating halfway, like he wasn’t sure if Dom would welcome it. “I know you are.”

Despite the urge to glance around the room to see who was watching, Dom met him in the middle, letting their fingers brush.

“I know I’m awful at it,” Dom admitted with a sigh. “But I can see that you all have some good points about opening up.”

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