Page 37 of Knocked Sideways

“We’re not anything. But I am good.” Remy pulled his arm away. “So thanks for coming to see my game, but I’m tired, and I’m gonna go to bed now.”

“You really mean that? Because I know you like what I do for you, Remy. And it’s not like you’ve got anything else going on, do you?”

Well, didn’t that put Remy in his place. Fuck that again. Remy deserved to be treated as more than just a convenient lay. That much he knew.

“I’m good,” he said, as firmly as he could. “Nice catching up, Coach.”

Before Mike could say anything more, Remy pushed off his stool and started toward the elevator. Fast, so that Mike couldn’t follow. His anger felt good. Cleansing, even. If Remy’d had any doubts about being over Mike, they were gone.

And he wasn’t going to spin any stories to himself about why Jed had come down or how Jed might feel about him. He wasn’t going to rush to move out of Jed’s place or anything, because he was pretty sure that was helping him play better. And it was cool to be actual friends with a guy he’d looked up to for so long.

But that was it. As the whole damn not-a-relationship fiasco with Mike had shown him, wanting more was a surefire way to end up losing everything. He’d worked too hard for that to happen now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JED

Jed hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mike and Remy when he got up to his room. He could picture it so clearly—Mike telling Remy how good he was doing and watching Remy’s lips on the bottle of beer he’d probably have at the bar. Lips that had started stretching wide in smiles just for Jed, laughing at one of Moreau’s or McBride’s over-the-top posts or sometimes even at one of Jed’s dry jokes.

Lips that Mike had no fucking right to touch anymore.

Jed grabbed his room key, slipped his shoes back on, and headed to the elevator before he could think too hard about what he was doing. Or how he’d explain it when he got down there. Well, he was free to have a drink in the bar, too, right? Or he could be looking for one of the other guys. Either way, he’d be there in case Remy did end up needing him.

A bunch of the guys were waiting for the elevator when he got there.

“Comin’ out with us, Monty?” Moreau asked. He was fussing with his hair in the mirror across from the elevators. McBride grabbed his hand.

“Stop, already,” he said. “You look as good as you’re gonna get.”

“There’s no limit to my hotness,” Moreau protested. “Anyway, you in, Monty?”

“No, thanks.”

And thank fuck the elevator opened then, revealing a couple of other guys from the team who distracted Moreau, because Jed couldn’t think of any reason why he should be heading downstairs if he wasn’t going out. He still didn’t have a plan when the elevator opened and they all spilled into the lobby. Well, he’d just take a look to see if Remy was still in the bar and decide what to do from there.

It didn’t take long to spot Remy with Mike, sitting all cozied up at the corner of the bar. He could see the way Mike was leaning forward toward Remy and how Remy wasn’t leaning back. Jed started to push toward them.

But Moreau said something outrageous right then, making the guys howl with laughter, and Remy looked up right at Jed. He didn’t look happy to see him. What the hell was Jed doing?

You’re being a fool, Jed thought. A fucking too-old-for-this fool. He turned around, jabbed the elevator button, and went back to his room, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach.

The next morning, Jed parked himself beside Hal for breakfast and swore to himself that he wasn’t going to look around. He refused to wonder whether Remy was having a lazy morning with Mike, or as lazy a morning as he could when the team meeting started in ten minutes. He’d see Remy when he saw him, and that was fine.

“Good morning,” Hal said. “How’re you feeling? You took a lot of shots last night.”

Jed felt like shit, and not only because of the workout he’d received. But he was hardly going to tell Hal that.

“I’m good. Helps that we got the win.”

“Yeah. Two in a row.” Then Hal fell silent, no doubt thinking about the upcoming games in New York. It was going to be a challenge to keep the streak going, but maybe they could pull it off.

“Hey,” Hal said, breaking into Jed’s thoughts. “I saw your boy in the bar last night with a guy who looked like one of your old teammates.”

“Yeah?” Jed frowned, even as his pulse sped up. Hal was still calling Remy his boy like there was a reason for it. The fact that there wasn’t made him inexplicably grumpy.

Also, how had Hal recognized Mike? They’d only been in the NHL together for a year or two. But Hal’s hockey knowledge was encyclopedic, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

“You know what that was about?” Hal pressed.