Boston was a busy city, but at least I could relax at home or hang out with some friends. In California, everyone seemed fake. A little plastic. Just trying to make a name for themselves and walking all over anyone who gave them a second.
He shrugged. “It’s not for everyone, but I have a nice little house right on the beach. I surf in the mornings when I’m home. I’m not very good at it, but I enjoy it. Helps me find that inner chi or whatever.”
“You surf?”
And now all I could picture was Dean in a wetsuit. One that clung to every single inch of his body. He had a nice one, too.Lean and toned, with biceps that were corded with thick muscle, pushing the boundaries of his t-shirt. I tried to ignore the semi I was now sporting and the fact that these dress pants were not very forgiving.
He threw back his head and laughed, giving me the perfect view of his neck. The urge to mark him was stronger than it should be. It wasn’t just the way Dean’s face lit up, but it was the beautiful sound he made.
“I know I’m small, but I’m strong. And it takes skill to stay on that board. Just like it takes the same for you to skate the way you do.”
“You ever skate?” I asked, trying to change the subject and calm my cock.
He nodded. “Uh, duh. Jackson and Tommy forced us all to try to play hockey with them. I wasn’t terrible, but I wasn’t good.”
“Tommy?” I growled. That was the second time he had brought that name up.
Dean finished his beer. “Jackson’s brother.”
“Oh, shit, the brother.”
I knew all about Jax’s younger protégé brother. I had met him a handful of times, even played him a couple of times before the accident. The accident that had ended his career just as it started to take off.
Dean placed his empty glass on the counter. “We should exchange numbers. You know, if you ever wanted to try to surf when you visit California again. Or show me around Boston when I come up there.”
“I’m a little old for the trying to surf thing, but we’ll see.” I was pushing forty, and my body was already angry with me for continuing to play hockey the way I did. I slid my phone from my pocket, unlocked it, and held it out. This was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Add your number.” When Dean handedme back my phone, I texted him. “And now we’re officially friends.”
“What’s your favorite movie and band?” Dean asked. “I mean, if we’re friends, I need to know these sorts of things.”
I chuckled. “If I don’t say Mulligan, does that mean we’re not? Friends, I mean.”
“You don’t have to say my band.” Dean dropped his chin and looked up at me with those emerald-green eyes. “But it might drop the coolness level down a bit.”
Suddenly Jackson appeared out of nowhere, all big and imposing, like he was on the ice. “I told you to leave him alone, Beau,” he warned. His eyes had narrowed into angry slits. He looked pissed.
“Hey, you’re kind of loud.” Maverick placed a hand on Jackson’s arm.
Jackson tried to wave him off. “Dean isn’t like you.”
“What is he talking about?” Maverick turned to his brother.
Dean shrugged as he caught my eye. “I don’t know. We were just talking. About surfing and music and then we exchanged numbers. Then Jackson stormed over here all caveman like.”
“Delete it,” Jax demanded as he poked me in the chest. “Now.”
I pushed him away as my blood pressure shot up. “Fuck off. You’re not the boss of him. He’s not your brother. He’s Maverick’s.”
“He might as well be my brother.” Jackson was suddenly chest to chest with me, towering over me like an angry giant. He was bigger than I was, bulkier, and I had never seen him look so furious with me before. It was scary as hell. “Don’t think I didn’t see you exchange numbers. Dean isn’t—”
I shoved at Jackson with both of my hands.
“Don’t,” I warned.
I wasn’t out. I dated women in public and fucked men behind closed doors. I had my son to think about, and I didn’t want to put that on him. Not when he was becoming a star of his own. “You win.” My eyes darted over to where Dean was standing, his brows furrowed and worry lines all over his face. “I’m sorry.” I slipped away from the three of them and made my way out of the bar.
Once I was back at my hotel room, I took off my suit, hung it up, and changed into a pair of sweats. I grabbed another beer from the fridge, sat down on the couch, and unlocked my phone. The message that had arrived while I was changing caught me off guard. I should ignore it.
Unknown: What happened back at the bar? What got Jackson so upset?
