Viewing them carried me off into a sweet dream. Yeah, I know how cheesy that sounds, but I’m not about to lie to you. Not after everything else I’ve confessed. My teammate, on the other hand…
“Everything’s normal. You know it is.”
Detenbeck shook his head. “No, dude. It’s like you’ve got something consuming you mind, body, and soul. Bet I know what it is, too.”
“Why don’t you tell me, wiseass?”
“I’m waiting foryouto tellmewhat’s going on.”
Awesome. I could tell him I’d gotten caught up with a gorgeous blonde with enormous headlights. She’d been sitting on my face nightly before I’d mounted her. I’m sure Detenbeck would’ve believed that and been proud of me too, but he’d still call it a distraction.
Maybe that wasn’t such a great alternative after all. But what the hell was I supposed to tell him?
“You know you’ve got to set personal stuff aside, right?” he asked.
“Why should I? I’ve balanced the two forever. No need to stop now.”
“Maybe you think I’m being ridiculous?—”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Just remember, I’m the guy who won a national title, and I like how that feels. I liked all the media attention we got, I likedhow we were practically worshipped in this city, and I like the boost it gave my chances of being drafted to the NHL. I want to have that feeling again. That means we’ve got to win again, and everyone has to be at their best, including you.”
I heard everything he said, but I wasn’t listening, if that makes sense.
To me, this wasn’t new. Quinn Standish had taken up so much space in my mind that he should’ve been paying rent. The problem had ballooned over the last few weeks, that was all.
You know, if you call thinking about Quinn all the time a problem.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Quinn in one way or another since moving into the house with him, but those thoughts had intensified after last night. Made perfect sense to me. I’d come within a hair of winning him over—but I hadn’t closed the deal.
By now you know I’m the kind of guy who gets what he wants. For that reason, I’d continued my pursuit of Quinn. When he’d snuggled up with me on the couch, I’d had him in my grasp. He’d come to me because he wanted to, which said a lot—but then he took off. He acted like something had startled him, but I didn’t know what. I hadn’t done anything bad. It made no sense.
Why would he snuggle up with me and then run?
“Hello?” Detenbeck asked.
“What?”
“You spaced out on me again.”
I wanted to apologize for spacing out, but I stayed quiet. If I caved every time someone was unhappy with me, I really would go soft.
“What’s her name?” Detenbeck asked.
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me a minute ago, but it’s pretty obvious you’ve got someone on your mind. I know that look. So why don’t you go ahead and just spill it?”
There’s nothing to spill, I wanted to say. But that wouldn’t work. Apparently my teammate was a mind reader.
I hated myself for not just telling him about Quinn. No one should ever feel ashamed of having fallen head-over-heels for someone as beautiful and smart as him.
Why couldn’t I just tell him? Kayden Preston and Erik De Ruiter had come out as a couple on our hockey team, and no one had judged them. The media had treated them like their little darlings. Best of all, no one had ever questioned their toughness. So technically, I had nothing to lose.
I’d just leave out how we would soon be stepbrothers.
But the situation was more complicated than that, and I knew it.