Page 62 of Rookie Attraction

Finn offers a beaming smile, and it lights up every pleasure point in my body. It affects me more than any sexy line or look I’ve received in any club, from anyone else. I clench my hands tight and pray like hell he can’t read my filthy mind.

“Can we check out Pike Place Market?” he asks, his eyes imploring.

“Absolutely.”

My answer is simple, but my voice is suddenly hoarse.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You like chowder?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His enthusiasm sparks mine. “I know a great place. Let’s do it.”

We continue walking, stepping inside the unusually quiet locker room to find most of the guys already gone. Still, I keep to myself from here on out. I wait for Finn to head for the showers first and only then do I start undressing. He’s gone for five minutes, tops, and when I spot him sauntering towards me, a thin, damp towel around his waist, his short hair slicked back, I ignore the ache in my balls, grab my kit, and all but run past him. By the time I get under the spray, my body’s shaking and my dick’s chubbing up. Jesus, not now.

There’s only one thing to do; I crank up the cold water as high as it’ll go. After a while, shock’s replaced by numbness, and I’m calm enough to face him again.

Finn’s gone by the time I get dressed, but I find him waiting for me in the hallway. He’s all but silent as we make our way out of the rink and into a rideshare that takes off like it’s racing in the Grand Prix. Has Finn changed his mind?

Before I can ask, the awkward silence is broken by my phone buzzing. It’s a text from Taylor confirming our next appearance together. I don’t want to use the word “date” because that’s not what this is.

Taylor: Youth sports fundraiser gala. Black tie. PR to forward details.

I stare at the message, an uncomfortable dread curling in my gut. I’m all for good causes, but I don’t want to waste my time smiling for the cameras, pretending I’m into him.

I want to go with Finn.

Don’t go there.

Part of me wants to delete Taylor’s message, but I don’t. Only, I’ve decided I can’t do this performance for months. Maybe a couple of weeks. Then Hugo can take his matchmaking and shove it up his annoying ass.

My phone buzzes again, but this time, it’s Mik.

Miki: How’s the west coast? You have time for a chat?

Sel: I’m on my way to lunch. Can I call you tomorrow?

Miki: Sure, just want to make sure you’re doing okay. Lots of press about Rush from the Anaheim game. Everything alright?

I glance at Finn’s profile. He’s staring out the window, worrying his plush lower lip. He looks like he’s pondering something major, and I wonder what it is.

Sel: It’s taking time. More than I thought. But I’ll work it out.

Miki: I’ve seen some negative comments about you. Anything I should be concerned about?

How do I even begin to tell Miki what’s going on? I won’t.

Sel: No

Miki: Be careful. Don’t give them a reason to question your focus.

Tell him something.

Sel: I’m doing my best. The truth is, there are a couple of players in NY who don’t like the fact that I came out or the attention it’s caused. I thought leaving Chicago would mean a fresh start, but it’s not without tension and I’m trying to work through it. The rest of the guys are good. Only, the team’s PR director thought setting me up with Taylor would bring positive coverage, for us and for our respective teams, but…

Miki: But what?

Sel: With the entertainment press, yes. The sports press is trickier; so far nothing glaringly homophobic, but I’ve been questioned about my decision to come out and how this is affecting my game, so… The bigger problem is Brady and St. Clare. They definitely have a problem with my sexuality, and they’re not shy about saying I’m distracting to the team.