Page 9 of Shift Change

“It’s a problem sometimes, to be honest.” I flopped backward and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to get you up.”

“Be prepared. You might have to resort to extreme measures.”

“Whatever it takes. I’m not shy, and extreme measures are my specialty.”

We both relaxed, and for a while, the only sounds were our breathing and the occasional hum of a car passing outside. It was good having Dog in the house. Hopefully, he’d be a cure for the loneliness that had weighed me down for too long.

Fuck, Iwouldhave to think about this now.Last spring, I dated a woman named Amanda for a few weeks during the playoffs. By the time the Warriors made the finals, our relationship had already passed its expiration date—relationshipbeing a euphemism for going on a few dates and fucking a lot. I’d never had anything real, nothing built on caring or wanting to spend more than a few hours together at a time. And I’d sure as hell never experienced anything resembling commitment. When a woman started making noises about exclusivity or introducing me to her family, I was out.

That was how I’d always wanted it. Relationships meant investing in someone. You got used to each other, started to expect things, andbam—before you knew it, you were counting on them. I’d been down that road with family, and all it got me was a drug-addict mother who took off the summer after fourth grade, and a father who was the all-time champion of conditional love. He specialized in my-way-or-the-highway ultimatums and beatings bad enough to land me in the hospital. He went off to jail the summer before I left for college, and I hadn’t seen him since.

After we won the Cup last June, the team celebrated at Revolution Hops, and Amanda came along. I drank too much, so most of the night was a blur, but I remembered seeing her kiss another guy at the bar. Technically, it should have been fine, since I didn’t do commitments. But I could still feel a stab in my gut as I ordered another beer.

Since she didn’t leave with the other man, I took her home and fucked her like it might quiet whatever was clawing at me. It didn’t. I woke up hours later, knowing I couldn’t keep living like that.

I didn’t want to be alone, but I didn’t want to bewithanyone either, not if it meant opening myself to things I had no faith in. I was tired of cycling through women whose names I barely remembered, using sex to try to cover up loneliness. Things with girls never lasted because I never let them. Going our separate ways was almost always my choice, but that didn’t seem to matter. I was lonely with them, and I was lonely without them.

That morning, while Amanda was in the shower, I made coffee and had a travel mug waiting for her. She got the usual speech: “You’re great, the sex is awesome, but I’m not built for this.” She insinuated I’d been leading her on—completely false; she said she could have gone out with a lot of other men instead of me—undoubtedly true. When I said I’d seen her kissing the guy at Revolution Hops, she flushed and muttered something about her not being ready to settle down either. I called her an Uber, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and watched her walk out the door when the car arrived.

Then I took a cup of coffee out to the garden and let myself cry, something I hadn’t done in years. That day, I swore off dating, not forever, but until I could get myself together and figure out what I needed. Since the only good thing I’d ever gotten from dating was sex, I’d have to rely on my right hand until I met someone I actuallywantedto be with.

So yeah, maybe Dog and I would be good for each other. He was new and needed a friend, and I already felt comfortable around him. I could use a new buddy too. Riley and I had been close when he first joined the Warriors, but things cooled after I stopped using women to avoid my issues. He was a serial skirt-chaser and had a way of vanishing for days at a time without a word. With Dog, I hoped for something more solid—a real friendship with no disappearing acts.

Dog’s leg jerked beside me. He’d gotten so quiet I’d wondered if he was asleep, but when I turned my head to look, he was staring at me with his big bright eyes. I could see the wheels turning in his head. “What?” I asked. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He curved his lips into a lazy grin. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Holky. I’ve been in a weird place, so it’ll be nice living in a real house with someone low-pressure.”

“Same. I’m glad to have you here.” I squinted at him. “Clean up after yourself, though. Don’t let me find your dirty socks around, and you’d better put your dishes in the dishwasher.”

“No worries.” He was still smiling, which helped me relax. Yep, a good buddy was exactly what I needed.

We lay like that until I started getting sleepy. It was either curl up for a nap or do something productive, so I poked him in the arm.

“Let’s get you settled so you don’t feel like you’re still in a hotel. What would you like to do tonight? We could go out, or we could have dinner delivered and stick around home.”

“We don’t have morning skate tomorrow, right?”

“No, only your welcome lunch. We’ll skate on Saturday since it’s game day.”

He hesitated before asking, “Do you think Coach will really leave me on the first line?”

“One thing Criswell never bullshits about is hockey,” I said. “He wouldn’t have told you that if he didn’t mean it, so unless you fuck up something big on Saturday morning, you’ll be out there with Harpy and Richie.”

He nodded. “Then why don’t we go out tonight? I’ll want to be extra sharp for Saturday, so maybe we can hang out and play games tomorrow.”

“It’s a plan.”

We dragged ourselves off the bed, and he hoisted a suitcase onto the bench against the wall. I snorted when he opened it. “What a fucking mess. Tell me you know how to pack better than that. You’re in The Show now, and looking decent on the road is part of the job.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was unpacking in front of the patron saint of luggage.”

“Damn right. Look at this disaster.” I picked up a lone sock peeking out from under a shirt. “Is this even clean?”

He shrugged.

“What did you do? Throw everything in the air and see where it landed?”

He scoffed, then snatched the sock away from me. “I pack the same way I play—fast and a little reckless. And unlike you, I don’t need to color-code my jockstraps.”

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