The door opens slowly and she appears. She looks one hundred percent normal. Calm, cool, and collected, not like a woman who just orgasmed on her hand and let me lick it clean. I’m stunned by her recovery. Impressed. “Hey. Can’t a girl tinkle in peace?”
“Sorry. I was just getting worried,” Tate explains and he tilts his head to try and see over her shoulder, into the bathroom, which makes her frown. “You and Carlos just disappeared with Dyllie a while ago and… I just wasn’t sure if everything was okay.”
“Carlos went home,” Olivia explains, pushing the door all the way open and stepping out of the bathroom. “I played with Dylan until he fell asleep and then spent a little time just chilling by myself. You know parties aren’t my thing. And then I had to pee.”
“Speaking of…” I slip past both of them and gently close the door.
I rest my whole body on it and relax. Phew. That was close.
They continue to talk outside the bathroom door as I pace inside, still trying to get my dick to fully deflate. I can't make out everything they say but the more they talk the harder Olivia's tone gets. Also, the higher Tate's tone gets—like he’s worried or guilty or something.
So of course I lean into the closed door.
“I am fine. Look at me? Do I look not fine? Please stop,” Olivia is saying, her tone hard. “Because the only thing making me not fine is all the fussing and worry you and your sister are doing. It happened tome, okay? Letmehandle it the wayIsee fit. I don’t have to make this okay for you. I never would have even told you if I knew this was how you’d react. I’m handling it my way.”
Then there’s the stomp of feet down the stairs.
I have no idea what the hell that was about but I have a very strong feeling that I need to know. That Ishouldknow. That Olivia doesn’twantme to know.
Chapter18
Crew
The Quake arena is buzzing. The fans got here early and in droves. We’re a sell-out crowd tonight and, in Los Angeles, that’s a big deal. I should be more energized than I am, but I just walked out of a meeting with Coach, and he’s delaying the official announcement of the new captain… or captains, as he says it will be.
“Look, I just don’t want to take away from the moment,” Coach Braddock told me as I sat across from him in his office in my pre-game suit. “Let’s let this be Burroughs last hurrah, and we’ll move you two up from alternate captains to actual co-captains the next home game.”
“Sure.” It sounds logical on paper. Burroughs, our Captain, retired at the end of the season, but he’s coming back for the first home game today because we’re raising the Stanley Cup banner.
Every time a team wins the Cup they put a banner in the rafters of the arena. This is only the second banner for the Quake and it’s a major moment. Media is covering it from all over North America. So, in theory, what Coach Braddock is saying makes sense. Still, it triggers a tingling that says something is off.
“That is, of course, if you still wanna be co-captain with Nash.”
And there’s the reason my Spidey-sense was tingling. I stare straight at Coach and examine his expression. It’s not dark with annoyance or cloudy with guilt. He hasn’t decided he doesn’t want to give it to me. He’s honestly got doubts I want it. I adjust my shoulders back defensively anyway, like I've done ever since we were seven and the first person, a parent of another player on our baby hockey team, turned to my dad and asked 'So which one is better?'
“You think Nash wants it more than me?”
“I never said that.” Coach keeps his tone light even as he leans forward props his elbows on the desk and tents his fingers. He wears a thick, plain titanium wedding ring and no other jewelry. "I asked if you wanted it. Because you've seemed kind of… checked out. Not of the game. On the ice, in practices and preseason games, you've been one hundred percent. I see that clear as day. But the captaincy is more than on-ice performance, and you haven't really stepped up. You gave more as Alternate Captain last year than you are giving this year as figurative Captain."
“I didn’t realize that I was still auditioning for the position,” I say and yeah, it sounds kinda bitchy. Coach’s raised eyebrows are his way of telling me he thinks so too. "I was overly worried about the wrist and I'm in the process of trying to find a new house. And it was preseason. If ever there was a time to be distracted, it's before it counts, right? Now that the season is here, I'm fully focused and ready to lead, Coach. Iwantto lead.”
He looks unconvinced but he nods. “If you don’t want it, that’s fine. It doesn’t mean you’re any less accomplished than your brother. Know that. You’ll always have an A even if you don’t want a C.”
"I want the C," I say it because it's like a reflex more than an actual desire. This is part of the plan. My dad has big endorsements lined up for the hockey twins, who are co-captains, not just the hockey brothers who play together. Our whole image has been built on the fact that we do everything together. I can't… I mean I don't want to bail on this joint position, which would be one of the first co-captaincies in league history.
“I want it,” I repeat and we both stand up.
“Your dad here tonight?” Coach asks as he comes around his desk to walk to his office door with me.
“Yeah.”
I reach for the door handle as a wry smile blooms on Coach’s rugged face. “Guess I should go say hello. He’s a hell of a guy, your dad, but it still chaps my ass I wasn’t able to beat his overall goal record.”
I smile. “No one is going to beat that for a very long time.”
“So that’s not on your bucket list?”
“I’m not in this league to best my dad,” I reply. “I genuinely just want to play the game my way. And just enjoy the ride.”
