Page 4 of The Official Problem
Boy, did Matthieu know it. He'd fought hard for this spot, against older, more seasoned guys with years on him. He couldn’t afford to screw it up now. Too many people were counting on him, people he refused to let down.
He grabbed his backpack and skates, slung them over one shoulder, and pulled out his phone. As he walked toward the arena exit, he typedKieran Lloyd post-game interviewinto the search bar. It didn’t make sense that Kieran had come to his defense after everything. While, like Harvey, Matthieu knew heowed his career’s continuation to that defense, it still left a sour taste in his mouth.
He didn’t like owing anyone.
Least of all, Kieran Lloyd.
TWO
KIERAN
Kieran glanced at his vibrating phone, already knowing who’d be on the other end when he finally picked up. He wasn’t ready for that conversation, especially not in front of last night’s hookup, who, despite agreeing to a casual, one-time thing when Kieran picked him up, was now taking an awfully long time to leave.
“You gonna get that?” the guy, Kieran thought his name was John, asked from the foot of the bed, tugging his pants back over his ankles. “Is it your partner back home?”
Kieran didn’t bother responding. He grabbed his briefs from the floor, pulled them on, then helped John gather the last few items of clothing he'd left scattered around the room.
“I can be discreet,” John, or maybe it was James, added unnecessarily.
“No partner,” Kieran grunted, tossing the guy’s last sock toward him.
He fought the urge to point out that he’d already seen him text at least three people this morning about spending the night with Kieran Lloyd.Yeah, really discreet.A quick Google search would tell Jack that Kieran was chronically single.
“But I do need to return the call, so…”
Kieran hovered awkwardly by the door, unsure how to handle the situation. He was fine picking people up. Getting them to leave afterward was a different story. Over the years, he’d learned guys would say almost anything to come home with him. By dawn, most had already forgotten their promises not to want anything more.
Maybe it was time for a new policy: no sleepovers. Hit it and quit it. Goodbye, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred…
“Will you be back in New York soon?” Jones asked hopefully.
“Not unless we face them in the playoffs.”
The way this season was going, that didn’t look likely. New York and Seattle were in different conferences, meaning if they met in the playoffs, it wouldn’t be until the Stanley Cup Final, a long shot. Seattle wasn’t having a terrible season, and neither was New York, but no one expected either team to make it all the way this year.
“Pity.” John—he’d decided it was definitely John—drawled, still not moving toward the door.
Kieran considered holding it open and waving him through with glowing orange sticks like an airport traffic controller. Instead, he went for something less rude, but hopefully no less subtle.
“Do you need money for a cab?”
The question earned him a disapproving look. Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose, summoning what was left of his patience. This guy was really starting to get on his nerves. He hated clingy hookups, especially when the sex hadn’t even been that great. Luckily, his phone rang again.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to take this. It’s my agent.”
John finally seemed to get the importance of Kieran taking the call in private. “Ah,” he exhaled. “I imagine he has a lot to say after last night.”
Kieran nodded, hopeful, as John finally moved toward the door.
“Look me up the next time you’re in town,” he said. “I left my number on the?—”
Kieran didn’t wait for the rest. As soon as John crossed the threshold, he shut the door behind him.The nerve of some people.He walked to the hotel notepad, where John—Ah, Jason—had scrawled his number, tore off the sheet, crumpled it, and tossed it toward the trash can. He missed. Of course. He played hockey, not basketball.
Kieran decided he’d let Cole suffer enough and picked up the phone.
“Jesus Christ, Kieran. You trying to give me a heart attack?” It was exactly the greeting Kieran had expected. Cole always answered the phone like he was in the middle of saving the world, and Kieran had ruined it by calling.
“Sorry it took so long to answer. Room service was taking their sweet time.”
