Page 111 of Game Misconduct

Leif shook his head. He’d been dreading this. He glanced down at his phone to see that his ride was still waiting to turn at the light. It still said he had two minutes to wait.Fuckthis was taking forever.

“Uh, visiting a friend,” Leif said vaguely because he figured that was his safest bet. Tanner was close enough to being a friend for that to be technically true and no one had to know who the friendwasor what they’d done together.

“Very cool. Can I get your autograph?”

“Sure,” Leif said. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

The guy pulled a notebook and a pen out of his bag and Leif signed it, cupping his hand over the paper so the ink wouldn’t smudge from the rain. It was more or less a lost cause, but he did his best and handed it back.

Thankfully, the SUV arrived before William could ask him for anything else—like a photo—and Leif gave him a vague wave before he hurried to get inside.

He released a big breath once the door was closed behind him and the vehicle pulled away from the curb. The driver didn’t talk much, and Leif was grateful as they sped through the crowded streets, weaving in and out of traffic.

They got stopped in a traffic jam, eating up the twenty-minute buffer time Leif had allowed and despite the driver doing his best impersonation of an F-1 driver, Leif barely made it to the hotel in time. He slid in the front door just as guys were gathering in the lobby to get on the bus to the airport.

Nicky raised an eyebrow at him and strolled over, asking “Late night?” in low voice.

He didn’t sound upset but Leif flushed anyway. “Uhh, kind of.”

“Did you stay here at the hotel at all?”

Leif shook his head.

Nicky grinned and tapped him on the arm. “Good for you. Hope he was hot and knew what he was doing in bed.”

“I could do worse,” Leif said rather than that Tanner’s eyes weredefinitelyhazel, not just brown, and that he didn’t think he’d ever felt that good after getting fucked.

And that he was pretty sure he was falling in love with Tanner Clayton.

Tanner dicked around at the apartment for twenty minutes or so after Leif walked out the door—because he’d been all stressed about the idea of them being spotted leaving together—and drove to the practice facility.

He’d offered to drive Leif to his hotel, but he’d looked totally scandalized by the idea. “Do youwantpeople to know about us?” he’d asked.

Tanner didn’t, but he still thought Leif was being a little paranoid. Okay, so maybeJockGossiphad been picking up steam again lately. The sports gossip site was a nuisance sometimes, but Tanner found it entertaining. It was kind of a guilty pleasure, and he followed them on social media using his fake accounts.

Ithadbeen really bad for players for a while there, especially in Toronto. According to Jesse, they’d been getting tips from a source within the Fisher Cats organization.

Wild.

The source had been fired or left or whatever and things had gone pretty quiet for a couple of years now. But it had picked up steam again in LA lately and sometimes Tanner saw stuff posted from New York or Dallas or other places around the league.

The sound of tires squealing nearby made Tanner glance around and he realized it was a car taking a corner too fast and he was parked in his spot at the Harriers’ Community Ice Complex ramp with zero memory of actually getting there.

He shut off his SUV then hopped out. The place was fucking deserted. Most of the player spots were empty and apparently, he was one of the first people on the team to arrive at the practice facility.

Weird, because he was usually one of the last.

Paulo Rocca, the team chef, did a double take when Tanner wandered into the kitchen area. Erik Wyatt and one of the call-ups were there, hunched over their plates and still looking half-asleep.

“Omelet?” Paulo offered.

Tanner shook his head. “I ate. Thanks, Paulsey.”

Paulo looked really confused because Tanner always ate breakfast at HCI but he nodded and didn’t comment when Tanner grabbed a couple of already cooked turkey sausage links to munch on as he ambled out of the kitchen.

Dude, this place was a fucking ghost town.

Maybe Tanner should have gone home first; it just seemed stupid not to head straight from the rental apartment to HCI. He was afraid if he sat down on the couch, he’d never get moving again.