Page 63 of Man Advantage

CHAPTER 20

CAM

I wasglad to put Trev’s mind at ease. He deserved to know how much his kids loved him and how little Bryan and Tim were succeeding at undermining him (because if that wasn’t what they were doing, I was the fucking Pope).

But there was something about the interaction that left me a little… uncomfortable.

Not the conversation itself. That had been fine.

The issue was when he’d been walking out to join me. My phone screen had picked up his reflection, and I’d taken that moment to shamelessly ogle him…

Which had given me the opportunity to realize he was looking at me strangely. And to notice how he quickly lookedawaybefore he sat down to talk with me.

It wasn’t the first time that had happened since I’d moved in, and it was… weird.

It was especially weird when I thought about how sometimes he’d see me before or after a game, and he’d pause like he was… I don’t know, surprised to see me? He knew I’d be there, though. Or like something about seeing me threw him off-balance? Icouldn’t figure it out, and though I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I was probably reading way too much into it because I was used to Daniel. I’d spent a lot of time seriously on edge around him because a sidelong glance could mean he was getting ready to tell me I’d pissed him off somehow. Or avoiding looking at me usually meant there was a fight brewing. About what, I wouldn’t have a clue until he finally blew up at me. I’d just have to walk on eggshells and worry myself sick until he finally told me if I’d loaded the dishwasher wrong, hadn’t been putting out enough, or had committed some cardinal sin I didn’t even know would bother him.

That was probably it. I had no idea why Trev looked at me the way he did, or why he sometimes seemed startled to see me even though he knew I was there. I couldn’t explain it.

But my twitchiness about it probably had a lot more to do with Daniel than with Trev. Which meant it wasn’t fair to get annoyed with Trev or be suspicious.

Brushing off those thoughts as best I could, I threw on a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt, and came back downstairs to join him in the kitchen. He was topping off a travel mug with coffee, and when he met my gaze with a smile, there was a hint of telltale redness in his eyes. That honestly didn’t surprise me since we’d been getting into some tough emotional territory earlier. A few times, he’d looked like he was ready to lose it right then and there; that he’d made it into the house was probably a small miracle. That was why I’d tossed in a joke to give him a chance to collect himself—I knew him well enough to pick up that he’d been fighting hard to keep his emotions from spilling over.

I didn’t acknowledge any of that out loud. He’d be embarrassed if he knew I’d caught on that he’d probably been crying earlier.

I hated that, but he was probably still raw, and any assurances that “dude, guys can cry—we all do” wouldn’t help much.

So, I just pretended not to notice.

“You heading out?” I asked.

Nodding, he screwed the lid onto his mug. “Yeah, in a minute. And I’ll be back in time for dinner if you want to eat together. We’re reviewing film after practice, though, so I’ll be at the training facility for a while.”

“Cool. We’ll figure something out. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Me neither.” He sipped his coffee. “There’s like five games on tonight if you want to watch one.”

“Hell yeah. Who’s playing?”

“Um…” Trev took out his phone and frowned as he scrolled something on the screen. “Let’s see… Houston at San Jose, New York at Seattle, Vancouver at Montreal, Detroit at—ooh, Detroit’s playing Atlanta. That’s guaranteed to be a fun game.”

“Oh yeah? They rivals or something?”

“They’ve knocked each other out of the playoffs every year for the past five years. Detroit’s beaten them three times. Atlanta’s swept them twice.” He grimaced. “Things getheatedwhen they meet up.”

I whistled. “I bet. Sounds like fun!”

“Perfect.” He put his phone in the island beside his coffee. “Maybe we can indulge in a pizza or something while we watch.”

“Ooh, sign me up.” I chuckled and gestured over my shoulder toward the basement stairs. “I’ll just put in an extra half hour in the gym so I don’t feel guilty about it.”

Something flickered across his face, but before I could parse it, he cleared his throat and said, “I don’t think you really need to feel guilty, do you?”

“No. And I encourage my clients not to because…” I waved a hand. “Toxic relationships with food and exercise and all that.” With a quiet laugh, I added, “But I also know how quickly and easily I’ll slide into eating less-than-healthy and being lazy at the gym, so…” I half-shrugged. “I just try to stay on top of it.”

“Fair enough. I have to do that during the off season.”

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