Page 20 of Breaking the Ice
Gavinfoundthecarda few minutes after Zach drove away.
He stared at it, sitting so innocently on his kitchen counter, and mentally debated about what to do with it for way longer than he should’ve.
“Just throw it out,” he said to himself.
He knew why Zach had left it. He’d hoped, no matter what Gavin said, that he’d consider—or reconsider—taking the job.
Or maybe, that deep down uncooperative voice said,he’s thinking about you offering something else.
But that was crazy. He wasn’t interested. Hewasn’t.
That had just been the beer he’d drunk, plus him being alone for a long time,plusthe shock of realizing that Zach had grown up.
But he didn’t crumple up the card, even though he thought probably he should. He didn’t even slide it over to the far end of the counter. He left it where it sat, right there in the middle of the goddamn space, no way to distract from it or ignore it entirely.
It was stupid. But apparently Gavin was being very stupid these days.
After he cleaned up from breakfast—taking extra care to scrub the pans and set them on the drying rack and wipe every single crumb from the almost-empty counter—Gavin only hesitated briefly before grabbing his hiking boots and shoving his feet into them. He gave himself a quick once over with sunscreen and bug spray, filled up his water bottle, shoved on his hat, and was out the door in under five minutes.
He took one of his favorite trails, winding his way through the forest, enjoying the silence.
Ortryingto enjoy the silence.
When Gavin got to the lake, he was surprised to find it fairly empty, only a few people to be seen on the far shore and a handful of canoes dotting the placid water.
Normally, he’d make it all the way out here, sweat slicking his skin from the humidity and the exertion, and be glad there wasn’t anyone out here to ruin the perfect silence.
But today, he wanted more than the chirping of the birds and the slow swish of the water against the shore.
He wanted something to distract him. That would make him stop running Zach’s visit over and over and goddamnoverin his mind. The way he’d grown into his body and his height. The confidence in his stance. His earnestness as he’d relayed the job offer. How his eyes had lit with excitement as he’d talked about Jones and McCoy.
Then there was the warmth of his big thigh pressed to Gavin’s. The heat that had streaked through him. The wonder and awe in Zach’s face as they’d leaned in closer . . .
“Shit,” Gavin said out loud, annoyed with himself. A little annoyed with Zach, too.
He hadn’t needed to look so eager. Or so disappointed when Gavin had pulled away.
Nineteen-year-old Zach hadn’t possessed any kind of poker face. Twenty-seven-year-old Zach was better. Years of NHL media training would do that.
Of course, all the media training in the world wasn’t going to be enough to hide that Zachhadbeen on board with whatever was happening between them on Gavin’s couch.
Maybe a switch had been flipped, and not just for Gavin.
“This is not helping,” Gavin announced, and somehow, shockingly, that did not help either.
He stayed out for another hour, hiking partway around the lake.
By the time he got back to the cabin, his head felt marginally clearer.
At least until he let himself back inside and there, staring at him from the counter accusatorially, was Zach’s card.
Goddamn it, why had hekeptit?
He should throw it away.
But his fingers still hesitated over it.
Finally, he fisted them and left it.
