Page 22 of Crossing Lines

The waiter dropped off my whisky, I paid, and Jonah ordered a soda water for himself.

“Not really.” I sipped my drink, my gaze sweeping over him,the muscles of his thighs and shoulders pulling on the fabric of his team sweats, his dark hair falling around his stunning blue eyes. He was gorgeous, no doubt about that.

“So, who were you talking to?” He quirked the corner of his mouth.

I studied him. “Laurent.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Oh. And how is he?” After the waiter set down his drink, he picked it up and held it on his thigh while his free hand fisted.

“He’s the same. We didn’t get to talk long.” Was he jealous of Laurent? I tapped my fingers to my lips, eyeing him. “Like I said, we’re just friends.”

“Who broke up?” He uncurled his hand and leaned forward.

“What do you mean?” I said, furrowing my brows. He wasn’t here to talk hockey.

“I mean, who broke it off? You or him?” He fixated on me.

With an old ache slinking through my chest, I said, “He did.” I dipped my gaze to my drink resting on the table. “It hurt, but it was for the best in the end. He wanted things I didn’t.”

“Like what?” He leaned closer, setting his drink on the table and his elbows on his knees.

Was this an appropriate conversation to be having with a player? But he was a queer player. He’d understand, and it wasn’t like I had anyone else to talk to. Fuck it. “He wanted more than me in our bed.” My gaze flicked to his.

He winced and hung his head. “Fuck, that’s not cool.” He refocused on me. “So, you’re a relationship guy.”

“A what?” I freed a soft chuckle. He’d obviously been thinking about me, trying to figure me out. I sipped more of my Crown.

“A relationship guy. You do well in monogamous relationships.” He sipped his drink. “Maybe that’s why you kept Owen around even though he was a douche.”

I raised my brows. He had a point. I’d just thought I was toonice and let people walk all over me. “I suppose.” I inhaled quickly. “But I have been known to hook up as well.” I took him in, my gaze stopping on the satisfying bulge in his sweats. I’d love to see what he had under there. My dick tingled. Oh, Jesus Christ. The whisky was getting to me. I scrubbed my face.

A coy grin worked over his lips. “Yeah, I’ve dated a little bit. But, you know, with school and hockey, it’s hard.” He bit his lower lip.

“So, you haven’t had a long-term relationship yet?” I shifted in my seat, hooking my ankle on my knee in a loose cross of my legs. God, what would it be like to be his first?

“Nope. I’m, uh…” With a smirk, he dipped his head. “I’m bisexual. So, I’ve dated women and men.” He cocked his head. “You ever date women?”

“No. Not even as a beard.” I sipped my whisky. Where was he going with this?

“When did you come out then?” He flicked his tongue over his lower lip.

Damn, he had a nice tongue. What would he taste like? I mentally shook the thoughts away. “I came out right before my injury.” I huffed a laugh. “I don’t know. At first, I wondered if the universe was persecuting me for coming out, eh.” I shifted and lowered my leg to the floor.

“So wait, you came out, then tore your ACL twice, and then had to quit hockey?” He wrinkled his forehead.

“Yep.” My chest twinged. That year had been the worst of my life. “My mom was okay with it, but my dad…” I huffed out a breath. “He didn’t understand it. My parents started arguing a lot during that time, and I—” Fuck, I was telling him my life story. How was he getting this out of me? I picked up my glass and swirled my whisky, then drank some more.

“You what?” He slid his chair in next to mine and placed his hand on my forearm.

I stared at his hand, the warmth shivering up my arm. Hewas trying to comfort me. I swallowed hard. “I always wondered if my coming out and the fact that I couldn’t play hockey anymore caused them to divorce.” I slid my gaze to his and looked deeply into his blue eyes with black lashes rimming them.

“I’m sure it didn’t. I’m sure there was more to it you didn’t know about.” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “It wasn’t your fault. You deserve to live your true life, and the injury, well, it was a fucked-up accident and nothing more.”

My eyes stung. No one had ever said that to me. Not even Laurent. I cleared my throat and looked away, my heart warring with my head. I had to get away from him. The line between coach and player was definitely blurring now. I slid my arm from his touch and dropped it to my side, then leaned away from him. How did I get back on track? “So, uh, aren’t you rooming with Archer tonight?”

He sighed. “Yeah. He was on the phone with his boyfriend when I left.” He drank his soda water, then focused on it while he held it in his lap. “I like talking to you, Ryan.”

My heart stuttered. Holy shit, I liked it when he said my name. “Yeah? Why?” I pressed my lips together. I probably shouldn’t have asked that.

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