I nodded and followed him. I felt a tiny bit better after we’d talked, but I was still off-balance and unnerved. I wanted to say I had no idea why Jack had it out for me, but I did. At least… I thought I did. He was still salty about the Pride Tape, right?

  But what if he knows he has another reason to be pissed at me?

  A chill ran through me.

  What if he did? What if he’d somehow picked up the scent, and he knew Christian and I were hooking up?

  I wiped a hand over my face. No. He hadn’t. We’d been careful, and Jack wasn’t subtle enough to let something like that slide if he knew.

  I was just getting fucking paranoid, and after getting reamed out like that, I was on edge. That was all it was.

  Closing my eyes, I pushed out a breath. Jack was just being a dick. He didn’t know anything.

  And the longer I stood out here like a dumbass, the less time I’d have to spend curled up with Christian back at the hotel. There wouldn’t be any sex tonight, but we could probably squeeze in some cuddling.

  With that in mind, I pushed my shoulders back, strode into the locker room, and got the hell out of the arena as quickly as I could.

  Chapter 20

  Christian

  Sneaking away from the hotel bar was easier than usual.

  I’d come back late to the hotel after running all the team’s gear to the airport, and after poking my head in to say hi, I went up to my room. No one questioned me when I did that.

  The unusual part was that Theo wasn’t in the bar with the guys, and apparently no one had questioned that, either.

  Gingerly easing himself down on my bed, he said, “They pretty much told me to go upstairs and go to sleep.”

  “They’re smart.” I carefully joined him. “How are you feeling?”

  He made a face. “Sore as fuck.” He met my gaze with apologetic eyes. “There isn’t going to be any action tonight.” He grimaced. “Everything fucking hurts. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh my God, don’t apologize.” I laced our fingers together. “I wouldn’t expect anything physical tonight. Hell, I’m amazed you played after that.”

  “Nah, it wasn’t bad enough to keep me from playing.” He laughed quietly, wincing a little. “But it’s hard to enjoy anything when it hurts like this.”

  “Then we won’t. It’s fine. I promise.” I brought his hand up and kissed it. “And you’re just sore, right? Not actually hurt?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve got some sexy-looking bruises showing up, and my back and ribs hurt like hell. My neck’s sore, too.” He groaned. “I get hit all the fucking time, but something about the way he got me…”

  “I bet.” I squeezed his hand. “Not gonna lie—that was terrifying, when you couldn’t get up.”

  Theo drew me in closer. “I’m sorry. I know it scares the hell out of people, seeing us down like that.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “To tell you the truth, I probably could’ve gotten up sooner, but I just needed a minute to make sure I wasn’t going to pass out.”

  “I don’t blame you at all. And honestly, I could tell from watching Dave that you were okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded, absently running my thumb along the back of his. “When he sat up and was just kind of holding on to your shoulder, everyone on the bench relaxed a bit.”

  “Oh, that’s good. It makes sense, too, now that you mention it. I always watch the trainers when I’m trying to get a bead on if someone’s okay.”

  “Yeah, it’s a dead giveaway sometimes.” I kissed his knuckles again. “But I won’t lie—I didn’t stop freaking out completely until I saw you up and skating toward the bench.” I paused. “And… maybe not even after that.”

  His soft smile melted my heart. He released my hand and caressed my cheek. “I’m okay. I really am.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “And I’ve seen some catastrophic injuries out there. But…” I swallowed. “This time it was you.”

  Theo’s eyebrows rose, and I had a few panicked seconds to worry I’d tipped my hand too far. That he might think I was way too deep into this and it was all too much.

  But then he gathered me in his arms, pulling me against him even though we both knew his chest and back still hurt, and he kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry it scared you. I know what it’s like, seeing someone out there who might be hurt real bad and there’s nothing you can do.” He brushed his lips across my forehead. “I’m okay, though. I promise.’

  Closing my eyes, I leaned into his warmth. “I know. I’ve known since you came to the bench. But…” I trailed off, not sure what to say.

  It was true, I’d seen far, far worse. Two seasons ago, Condit had been stretchered off the ice after he was boarded so badly that there’d been serious concerns about his neck. The season before that, a puck hit one of Vegas’s defensemen in the face, breaking his jaw and costing him four teeth; it had been a solid three minutes before he’d been able to get up and—with a lot of help and a bloody towel held to his face—slowly skate off the ice.

  And that was to say nothing about the night someone had upended Rusanov and sent him headfirst into the boards. I didn’t think I’d ever heard an arena go as silent as it had while he’d been motionless behind the goal, everyone in the building holding our breath as we waited for some sign of life. A pair of his teammates had eventually gotten him to his feet and helped him to the bench, and he’d been weaving badly the whole time. From what I’d heard later, he hadn’t even known where he was for a good minute or two after he’d woken up.

  Those had all been scary. Especially with Condit and Rusanov, there’d been a real, intense fear that they’d been injured in career-ending, life-altering ways. Both men could’ve broken their necks. They could’ve been paralyzed. The head injuries could’ve been… Well, that wasn’t something I needed to think about. Those men were my friends, and watching them lying that still on the ice while their hits were replayed over and over on the big screen had been some of the worst moments of my career. Of my life, honestly.

  As hockey injuries went, someone getting the wind knocked out of him ranked slightly above a hangnail. It was something they could skate off easily enough. Some guys went to the bench and returned for their next shift. Some left until the next period. But much like a stinger when someone blocked a puck with an arm or leg, it resolved pretty quickly and completely.

  Still, there’d been a good minute or so where Theo’s injury could’ve been anything. The way he’d crumpled to his knees, then wavered and nearly collapsed all the way had sent my heart into my throat. A million worst-case scenarios had flooded my brain as Dave had hurried across the ice to where Grekov was standing beside Theo and waving for help.

  I’d never been able to stomach watching the guys get hurt. It was one of the only things I hated about this job.

  But when it was Theo…

  I suppressed a shudder. Drawing back a little, I met his gaze. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  He stroked my hair. “Me too.” Then his expression darkened. “Maybe I should’ve taken Dave’s advice and sat for the rest of the game, though.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You saw what happened in the third period, right? When I almost scored on Yanni?”

  “But you didn’t. Grekov was on top of things, and you guys ended up winning.”

  “Yeah, but it was…” Theo chewed his lip, his eyes going unfocused.

  Something tightened in my chest. He took it hard whenever he made a mistake, but this seemed… more.

  I took his hand again, clasping it between us. “Hey. This isn’t just about that mistake, is it?”

  From the heavy sigh he released, no, it wasn’t.

  “What happened?” I asked softly.

  Theo swallowed hard, staring down at our hands. “Your dad ripped into me after the game.”

  Ice prickled down the length of my spine. “He did?”

  “Yeah. He let me fucking have it.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I know I fucked up. And I know it was almost costly. But he’s like… He’s threatening to send me down over it and…”

  “He won’t,” I said.

  Theo met my gaze. “He can, though. Most of the injured guys are back now, and he’s got his pick of forwards to grab from Everett if he doesn’t want to keep me up.” Theo sighed. “It’s only a matter of time before he can justify it by saying the team doesn’t need me anymore.”

  “I doubt it,” I said.

  Eyes locked on mine, Theo silently begged me to make him believe that.

  “Listen, he’s being a dick because he’s still mad about the Pride Tape.” I let go of his hand and stroked his cheek. “He’s pissy that you’re here and that you’re playing so well he can’t justify sending you down. That’s all it is.”

  Theo sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

  I went on, “I think he knows Coach Baldwin won’t stand for sending you back down when you’re this damn good. So he’s going to harp on any little mistake and make it seem like you’re worse than you are. He’s just messing with your head, same as before, and he’s going to flip shit at you at every opportunity in hopes that you ask to be either sent down or traded.”

  Theo looked at me through his lashes. “Is that how he does things?”

  “He has in the past. There was a player, like… I don’t know, two season ago? Anyway, Dad didn’t like him. He brought him in because he was supposed to be this big star, but Dad didn’t think he was performing up to the hype. Which…” I rolled my eyes. “Give him a chance, you know? It takes a while to adapt to a new team’s systems.”

  “It does,” Theo acknowledged.

  “Right, so halfway through the season, Dad’s just done. He wants him gone.” I waved like something flying away. “Whatever it takes—get him out of here. But Coach Baldwin thought he was doing fine and so did the team, and you just don’t send someone with two cups down to the minors, you know? Not unless it’s a conditioning loan or something.”

  “Yeah? So what did he do? Your dad?”

  “Terrorized him, basically. Any time he stepped out of line or made the smallest mistake, Dad was all over him. Screaming at him. Threatening him. Telling him he wasn’t worth the price of an entry-level contract, never mind the seven million he was getting every year. Like, I’m not kidding—there was one night when the whole team was an absolute disaster. You know those games? Where everyone’s out of step and it’s just mistake after mistake after mistake?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Theo laughed dryly. “The comedy of errors that isn’t funny except to the other team.”

  “Right. Exactly.” I exhaled. “So literally everyone on the team fucked up that night. I think even one of the equipment managers managed to FUBAR something. It was a shitshow. But who does my dad tear into? That guy. And like, all he’d done was a couple of dumb turnovers that led to scoring chances—but not goals—and he took a bullshit penalty for a hand pass when all he did was glove down the puck.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s not even that bad on a normal night, but that night? He could’ve been second or third star with that performance.”

  Theo whistled. “Wow. What happened after that?”

  “Guy said he was waiving his no-move and no-trade clauses, and he demanded a trade out of Seattle. He refused to suit up for another game.” I made a face. “I still don’t know how Dad didn’t get fucking fired for that, either. Because he ended up trading a two-time cup winner for a bottom six forward and some fifth-round draft picks.”

  “He—oh, wait, that was Roberts, wasn’t it? I always wondered what happened with that, because it sounded like such a bullshit transaction.”

  “It was. It’s exactly the kind of bullshit transaction that happens when a toxic GM pushes a player to the brink.”

  “How does he not get fired?”

  I sighed. “I’ve wondered that for a long time. I don’t know if he’s got dirt on the president of hockey operations or what, but he just does whatever the fuck he wants and doesn’t care who he screws over.”

  Theo coughed a bitter laugh. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “God, it’s just… Playing under him, it’s so much pressure. Every night when I hit the ice, I have to be playing at my very, very best. Which—I mean, that’s what we’re all supposed to do, you know? But it feels like I’m on a knife’s edge. If I have one off night, your dad’s going to jump on that opportunity to send me back down or trade my ass.”

  I winced. “I know. And it sucks. He’s on a power trip, and I wish I could tell you there was any way around it besides just being indispensable to Coach Baldwin.”

  Theo nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know.” He met my gaze. “Do you think it’s too much to hope he’ll sign me to a one-way contract after this season?”

  “You never know.”

  “Well, I guess all I can do now is get through the season and see what happens.” He studied me for a moment. “And I know damn well I shouldn’t stack the deck against myself by…” He gestured at each of us. “But I think I’d rather just keep trying not to get caught.”

  I swallowed. “If you don’t want to take the risk, though, I’ll understand.”

  Theo managed a genuine smile, and he lifted his chin to brush his lips across mine. “If I didn’t want to take the risk, I wouldn’t be here. We’ve been doing good about not getting caught.” He paused. “Which… probably means I should sleep in my room tonight.”

  He was right. Absolutely right. If he’d been rooming alone, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but if his roommate got suspicious or if someone saw him slinking out of my room in the morning…

  “Probably a good idea,” I whispered. “But hey, we’ll be back in Seattle soon. So you’ll be able to stay in my condo all night.”

  God, that smile. No wonder I couldn’t pull myself away from him and this amazing thing we had going.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” He kissed me again, drawing it out for a moment. “And hey, by the time we get home, I’ll probably be up for fooling around again.”

  “Ooh, I like the sound of that.”

  He chuckled, and we shared another kiss. “I don’t have to go right now, though. The guys won’t be back for another couple of hours.”

  “Want to watch a movie?”

  “Sounds good to me.” He sat up, wincing with the movement, and reached for his phone. “Let me just set an alarm so I don’t overstay if we fall asleep.”

  “Good idea. Now let’s see what Netflix has on offer…”

  It was a good thing Theo had set that alarm. When it went off at around 1:30, we’d both fallen asleep. The movie we’d been watching had long since ended, and I had a stiff neck from leaning into him while we sat against the padded headboard.

  “Oh, man.” He sat up to twist a crick out of his back before reaching for the phone. “Smartest alarm I ever set.”

  “I know, right?” I rubbed my neck. “But damn it, I was comfortable.”

  “Me too. But… I should go.” He turned plaintive, sleepy eyes on me. “We’ll have an all-nighter when we get home, though, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Deal.”

  We got up, and after he’d put on his shoes and pocketed his phone, we shared a very enjoyable and protracted goodbye at the door. If he hadn’t been so sore, I knew without a doubt we’d have ended up in bed again and not sleeping or watching a movie this time. He was still clearly in pain, though, so when we finally pried ourselves apart, he left to head back to his room.

  I wasn’t sore, and I was seriously turned on, so I took care of that in short order. Not nearly as fun when it was my own hand, but at least it scratched the itch. Once I was in bed with Theo again? Oh, it was on.

  I showered and returned to the bed where we’d spent most of the evening, and I found a goodnight text from him. I returned it, then settled in to get some sleep myself. Morning came early, after all, and my crew and I had a busy day ahead of us. After a long, relaxed evening with Theo and a quick and dirty orgasm, getting to sleep would be easy.

  In theory.

  Staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation and our situation. Dad was making threats against Theo’s career. Coming down on him hard for the kinds of mistakes every player made, and the mistake hadn’t even been a costly one tonight. All because he was still pissy over Theo putting some colored tape on his stick last season.

  I swore out loud and wiped a hand over my face.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Rebelling against Dad and his bullshit was fun, but only to a point. The truth was that if Theo and I were caught, the consequences would be real. Theo’s career might never recover—for PHL players trying to break into the NAPH, there was a lot of do-or-die and now-or-never, and something like this could keep him down in the minors (at best) until he retired.

  I rolled onto my side and gazed at the place where Theo had been lying earlier. I could almost imagine him there now, barely visible in the darkness, his face buried in the pillow and his back rising and falling slowly with his relaxed breathing.

  Theo had worked so hard to get where he was. And he was so damn good, too. Even if he wasn’t a generational talent or someone with the makings of a superstar, he was absolutely proving himself to be one of those players who had a long, respectable career. Hell, maybe he would be a superstar. Not all of the players who made it big were spectacular out of the gate, and he was barely in his prime.

  Was it fair of me to ask him to put his career and his future potential on the line just to be with me?

  I’d asked myself that question a billion times since he’d first caught my eye, but it was really needling at me tonight. Lying here alone in the dark, I closed my eyes and sighed. The truth—one I’d either been too stupid to notice or too stubborn to acknowledge—slammed into me like a slapshot to the chest.