Page 32 of Shift Change

That scared the hell out of me because I’d spent my whole damn life dodging that very thing—needing people and relying on them. Every time that happened, things blew up in my face. Reliance led to disappointment, and disappointment hurt more than a knife to the heart.

Mom had walked out like I wasn’t enough, and Dad did everything he could to hurt me. Gabe had never opened to me the way I’d have liked, but when Riley joined the Warriors and we hit it off, I thought he might be the friend I’d always wanted. For a while, it felt solid, like I finally had someone in my corner. But when I started pulling back from meaningless hookups, he drifted away like I’d broken some unspoken pact.

Different people, same result. No matter how it started, it always ended the same: I wasn’t built for people to stay. Yet here I was wanting something with Dog. Hell, I didn’t just want something; I wantedhim. Was I only setting myself up to get burned again?

I pressed a fist to my chest, trying to calm my heart, but it wouldn’t shut the hell up. I could still feel the heat of Dog’s skin on mine. Fuck that, I could still feel the press of his cock against me, thick and real, like my body had saved the imprint. But even more than that was the way he looked at me, like I was someone who mattered, someone worth sticking around for. That look rattled every nerve in my brain. Although he hadn’t done a single thing to make me afraid, I still felt the old instinct rising fast—the urge to shove him away before he could beat me to it.

As I tossed and turned, my brain wouldn’t let up. The situation was ridiculous. I wanted Dog as a friend, which made me want to push him away before I could screw it up. And I wanted him in bed, which should’ve freaked me the hell out but didn’t. Not even a little.

I wasn’t a homophobe. I’d always had gay and bi friends. Gabe was committed to Brody, and Harpy and Luca were married. Logan was into men too. They were some of the best guys I’d ever known, and I respected the hell out of them.

But I was straight. I’d never had sexual contact with a guy. Even on wild nights in college, or with Riley during our clubbing days, there were always women involved. I’d never touched a guy because I was never interested.

Then came that dinner in Boston last season when Brody jerked Gabe off under the table, right across from Harpy and me. The images seared themselves into my brain. It was hot as hell, but it was more. Their intimacy was so raw, so real, I couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to have sex with someone I actually cared about. I’d never experienced that. Not even close. And those thoughts, tangled up with the electric charge of what was happening right in front of me, had pushed me over the edge. I came hard in my pants—no hands, and no warning. It was heat and need and a thousand confused feelings colliding all at once.

For some reason I still couldn’t explain, that didn’t freak me out either. Before we left, I went to the men’s room, cleaned myself up, and shoved the whole thing down deep, somewhere private where it could sit and confuse the ever-loving shit out of me.

Now, I stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was feeling about Dog. Who knew what was happening, but whether I was straight or not, I wanted to find out. For once, I wasn’t going to let fear call the shots.

I turned over and closed my eyes. One thing was certain: whatever was happening between Dog and me, it mattered.

11

mad dog

Holky didn’t saymuch on our way to the airport, giving one-word answers to questions I’d asked. I told myself he was only half awake. We’d been up late, had an early morning, and playing hockey was a grind even when you weren’t nursing a mental crisis over whatever the hell was happening between us. It was all understandable.

But I wasn’t buying my own bullshit. Something had changed between last night and this morning.

When we boarded the Warriors’ jet, Nels, sitting near the front, waved at Holky. “Need a partner, man.”

Holky glanced at me with hesitation in his eyes. “They play video games. You mind?”

Ididmind, not because I expected him to sit next to me like we were joined at the hip, but because I wanted to talk.We needed to figure out if whatever had been simmering between us since our nap—hell, since we fuckingmet—was truly something, or if I’d imagined it in the haze of making my big-league debut.

Since there wasn’t a way to say that without sounding needy, I settled for, “No, go have fun.”

He nodded, avoiding my eyes, so I headed down the aisle, claimed a window seat, and watched the activity on the tarmac.

“Mind if I sit?”

I turned to find Brody grinning at me. “Not at all. Take a load off.”

He looked like a goddamn Norse warrior with his long blond hair, sharp jaw, and body that could have been carved from a glacier. We were about the same age, and I was grateful for his company. We made small talk until takeoff, then got into it about hockey over breakfast.

It turned out he’d gone to school at Michigan, and since Mohegan and Michigan were bitter rivals, we chirped each other mercilessly and talked shit until we broke down laughing.

After the flight attendant removed the breakfast dishes, we settled in with our iPads, and I tried to relax. I wasn’t sure if I was keyed up because I didn’t know what was going on with Holky, or if I felt like I still had something to prove. It was probably both, so I got lost in a documentary about birds in the South Pacific.

Two hours into the flight, movement caught my eye, and I glanced up to see Holky coming down the aisle toward us. Figuring he was on his way to the bathroom, I gave him an upward nod.

Instead of walking by, he stopped beside Brody. “You guys staying out of trouble back here?”

Hecouldstill talk. It was the longest sentence I’d heard from him since the guys left last night, so I made the most of it. “Doing great, thanks. We found out we went to rival schools and had a debate about which was best.”

“And the verdict was?”

“Michigan, of course,” Brody said before I could answer. “Dog went to Mohegan. You know how you get a former Mohegan player off your front porch?”

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