Page 139 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“I call bullshit.” I fold my arms over my chest and stare out the window of my hotel. The skyline of the city is dotted with buildings and lights in the moonless night.

“Hunter was the most urgent. He’s up for a contract negotiation in a few months and with them so close to competing for the Cup, it’s a good time to be ready to poach.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?” He sounds like the voice of innocence. “Did you piss him off? Is that why he played like shit tonight?”

“That right there!” I all but jump. “You never watch hockey, it’s not your sport, but you watched tonight’s game? That’s suspect.”

“It was on the TV while I worked through some contracts.” His chuckle fills the line. “And, sweetie, I watch all sports.”

I chew the inside of my cheek as I listen to him turn the water on and then off, now wondering if my thoughts ran away with me earlier. “You’re up to something.” I know it.

“How about you be up to telling me what’s going on there?”

“Nothing to report,” I say, willing to give him a reprieve momentarily, because I do want to talk to him about Hunter.

“But your silence says you have thoughts.”

“I do.” I nod. “I think he’s definitely burned out and can’t see the forest for the trees.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, there’s a catalyst that’s causing it.”

“Like?”

“Getting to the playoffs? His future with the Jacks? Something,” I murmur more to myself than to him.

“So what are you going to do?”

I lean my hip against the back of the couch and eye the sandwich I brought back for a very late dinner and think for a second. “Make him fall back in love with the game somehow. He’s too important to the franchise and maybe he’s feeling the pressure.”

“That’s what I would do.”

Is it stupid that such simple affirmation from my dad still makes me grin ear to ear?

“Now to figure out what to do.”

“You’ll sort it out. You always do,” he says. “It’s getting late—”

“Not so soon, Kincade. Nice try. Now about you picking me to go after Hunter.” I purse my lips and wait for an answer.

“I promise you, it’s because I know you’re the right one to handle him.”

My mind flashes to the other night. To my hand wrapped around his cock and my tongue slipping through his lips. To how bad I screwed things up and how much Hunter called me on it.

My cheeks fill with heat as I fumble over what to say to my dad. “I’m not one hundred percent sure I believe you.”

His laughter fills the line. “Good. Then it’ll keep you on your toes. Night, Dekk.” Without another word, he hangs up on me.

All I can do is laugh into my empty hotel room and shake my head. The worst thing about my dad is also probably the best thing about my dad. I can never stay mad at him.

I’m spending too much time with my thoughts.

Way too much time.

But the one lingering thought remains as I eat my sandwich. If Lennox saw how I felt about Hunter when I rarely acknowledged that we were together, wouldn’t my dad have too?