Page 24 of Crossing Lines

“Archer, we almost kissed in the elevator. Probably would have if you hadn’t interrupted us.” I scoffed and hopped off my bed, then paced the room, rubbing my chin. “Think about it. The problem with dating a coach is they have power over you, like if and when you get time in the game and all that. But he’s not technically my coach, so he doesn’t have that sort of power over me.”

“But he’s a hockey coach and we play hockey.” His gaze chased me as I walked back and forth. “You’ve let yourself crush on him for so long that now you can’t think straight.”

I stopped and looked at him. “I think I’m falling for him, Archer.” My chest ached. Yeah, no thinking about it. I was, especially after tonight.

“No, you’re infatuated with him, maybe obsessed.” He threw his legs off my bed and stood up, then strolled to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Jonah, it’s an infatuation. You’re not falling in love. You barely know the guy. And he’s acoach.” He looked me up and down. “Damn, I’ve known you since we were both ten. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’ve never been more sure of someone in my life. I’ve never met anyone like him.” I rubbed my fingers over my aching chest. I had it bad. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” I’d never been in love before.

Wrinkling his brows, he wrapped his arms around me for a tight embrace. “Hey, you need to tone this down. Focus on the game and playing your best and put all this shit out of your head.”

“How? How do I do that exactly when he’ll be standing right behind me?” I buried my face in his neck, hooking my arms around his waist. My gut clenched. I couldn’t tone my feelings down, not now.

He brushed his hand over the back of my hair. “I don’t know. Maybe pretend he’s not there.”

“If it were Leo, would you be able to pretend he’s not there?” He had to know how impossible it was. I tightened my grip on him. I might be setting myself up for a world of hurt.

“No, guess not.” He kissed the side of my head. “I wish I knew the answer for you. Maybe you need to stay away from him. Don’t go looking for him like you did tonight.”

I pushed him away and gazed into his eyes. “I didn’t?—”

“Yes, you did. I’m not stupid.” He curled the edge of his mouth.

Heat crawled into my cheeks. He had my number. “Yeah, I overheard him telling Coach Patterson he was getting a nightcap in the bar.”

“So, stop doing that. Leave the guy alone. If he’s interested, he’ll come to you. Maybe after the season is over and you’re getting scouted?” He patted my shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” With a long sigh, I headed toward the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed.” I knew what I had to do. But could I do it?

The next night,we’d beaten Colorado three to zero and Coach had given us a night to ourselves before the long ride home tomorrow. I sat on the bus in a seat next to Archer and a few rows down from Ryan, watching the back of his head. We’d barely made eye contact the whole night. What was he thinking after last night? Ryan had beelined it for a seat next to my coach as soon as the bus had gotten to the rink.

“Hey, you played well tonight.” Archer backhanded my thigh while looking into his phone. “Want to order pizza and get drinks in the lobby bar with everyone?”

“Who’s everyone?” If it was basically the whole team, I mightnot be up for it. And if Ryan was there…what the hell should I do?

“Just us, the squad. I think the other guys who are of age are going to Uber to some club a few miles away.” He glanced out the window a moment at the darkness and streetlights passing us by. “None of us has any idea if there’s a gay bar around here or what that would be like. So we thought we’d stay in. Then we can be ourselves.”

“Yeah, okay.” I snuck a peek at Ryan. What would he be doing tonight? “Do you think Coach Gibson will be there?”

He cut his gaze to mine. “No idea what the coaches are doing. I’m sure they’ll be going over game footage or relaxing themselves.”

“Yeah?” I chewed my lower lip. “Okay.” I gazed out the window at our hotel, a newer colonial-style building resting between saplings.

The bus pulled up to the front of the building and stopped.

Ryan and Coach Finley stood. Coach Finley looked down all the rows. “All right, boys, have a good night and no one get in trouble.” His gaze found mine, then he turned around and exited the bus with Ryan following.

I wanted to see what Ryan was doing tonight. I hopped from my seat, grabbed my duffel from the overhead bin, and shuffled past the guys.

“Jonah, what are you doing?” Archer called out, stuck behind Coach Patterson and Ace.

“Nothing, I’ll see you in there.” Jumping down the stairs, I jogged to Ryan and Finley, chatting about the game.

Ryan glanced back at me and pursed his lips, his suit hugging his body in all the right places.

“So, uh, what are the coaches doing tonight? You guys going over game footage?” I slung the strap of my duffel over my shoulder. I probably looked desperate, but then, I was.

“Yes, Boehm. We still have work to do.” Coach Finley scoffed and kept walking.

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