Page 65 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

I nod. “I know. I need to pull it together.”

“You’re a damn good player, Travis. I hate seeing a player’s personal life get in the way of their game. I’ve seen it end careers, I’ve seen it lead to injuries that might have been avoidable, and I’ve seen it send plenty of guys down bad paths trying to find ways to numb whatever pain they’re dealing with. You’re barely halfway through your career—now is not the time to lose focus.”

I nod again, trying to wrap my head around the fact that he called me Travis, then turning over everything else he’s saying.

“I’m not going to dive into a bottle or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He levels me with an unamused look. “Good, but I’m also worried about distractions. I would never tell anyone not to have a personal life, but if it’s going to affect your game, maybe you need to give it some thought, huh?”

“What…” I shake my head, my stomach clenching. Does he know somehow? “It’s not like that,” I protest weakly.

Coach holds both his hands up in front of himself and shakes his head too. “I’m not asking and I don’t want to know. All I’m telling you is that I see a lot of potential in you and I’d hate to see that all go down the drain.”

I swallow hard. No, I don’t want my career to go down the drain. That’s one of the reasons I never dated. All through high school and college, up till now, it always made sense to me to put hockey first, above everything else. Beau’s different though. He got under my skin without me even realizing it, he became part of me, and then they just sent him away.

“Yeah,” I answer harshly, because I know he’s not looking for excuses or apologies, he just wants to hear that I’m going to get my shit together. “I got it.”

He stares me down for another few seconds before he nods again and waves for me to go. I trudge to my car and as soon as my phone connects to the Bluetooth, I press the speed dial button to call Beau. He answers after just one ring, like he was waiting for my call.

“Hey.” I can hear a smile in his voice, and the knots in my chest loosen immediately.

“You don’t have to say it; I know I played like shit.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“I didn’t have my gum.” I defend myself, even though we both know that wasn’t the real reason I sucked so hard tonight, at least not the main one. “The pack must have fallen out somewhere. I fucked up the last game too, so maybe licorice is out anyway.”

Beau hums, and I hear the gentle tap-tap-tap of his fingers on a keyboard. “How about bacon, you ever tried that one?”

“No. Sounds weird as fuck.” I laugh, already making a mental note to order some as soon as I get home.

“Alright, a couple of packs are on their way to you, I paid extra for overnight shipping, so you’ll have them for the game tomorrow night against Georgia.”

“Bacon gum can’t possibly make me play any worse than I played tonight. What about shaving your head and sending me your hair to rub before the game?”

“Sorry, Trav, but that one is gonna be a hard pass.”

We both laugh again and I stare at the road ahead, dreading getting back to my empty apartment and having dinner all alone. Twenty-nine more days sounds like a lifetime.

TWENTY-NINE

BEAU

“This one is in a great building, centrally located, and only fifteen minutes from the arena.”

I peer through the windshield at the tall apartment building in front of us as the team realtor, Cameron, navigates to guest parking.

“Now, it doesn’t have a doorman or lobby security, but it’s not really needed in this area.”

“That’s okay. My last place didn’t have it either.”

Cameron shuts the car off and smiles, gathering his bag from the back seat. He’s very good-looking, a lot shorter than me but clearly spends plenty of time in the gym. He’s dressed in trim gray slacks that are only ankle length in spite of the cold, a baby blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up, black loafers, and a nice wool coat. His strawberry blond hair is cut short but stylish, and big blue eyes shine from behind black framed glasses. He’s… cute.

It’s the first time since realizing I’m bi that I’ve noticed a man in that way other than Travis, and it takes a minute for that to settle inside me. I don’t want to do anything with Cameron though. Don’t want to touch him, kiss him, see him naked. I don’t want to watch Sin City Cars with him.

I want Travis.

“Ready?” Cameron asks, completely professional, of course, unaware of my thoughts.