Page 61 of Over the Line

Was that really asking too much?

Probably, yeah.

Ah, well. Two or three more years, and I’d be retired and I could be the reckless idiot I’d never been allowed to be.

Too bad Garrett would definitely have moved on by then, and I’d have to dust off the dating apps again.

As my thoughts drifted back to our call, my gaze drifted to Chris again. One thing that stuck with me was the fact that Garrett hadn’t told his kids about his ex-wife cheating. That he’d been angry and resentful enough to cheat, but after seeing what his actions had done to his relationships with his kids, he couldn’t bring himself to alienate them from their mother.

I felt weird knowing the things I did about Garrett, his family, and his past. Especially when I was sitting kitty-corner to his son, who didn’t know some of the things I did.

But it also said something about this… friendship? Relationship? Garrett trusted me enough to tell me sensitive things. I’d asked about the estrangement from Chris, but he hadn’t had to show all his cards.

Did that mean something? Or was I just so stupid and lonely and desperate to be reckless that I was trying to dye all the red flags green?

Ugh. I didn’t know.

What I did know was that I wasn’t in the mood to socialize anymore. The captaincy said I should stay to make sure everyone didn’t get too rowdy and they all left at a reasonable hour.

Barns was here, though. The only reason he wasn’t an alternate captain was goalies couldn’t wear an A or a C, but he may as well have been our third alternate. He’d had a couple of beers tonight, and he was chirping like he always did, but he was clearly still sober enough to be responsible. If I left, the guys would be in good hands.

So… what was I waiting for?

I finished my beer and pushed back my chair. “Hey guys, I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Already?” Craws made a big show of checking his phone. “Goddamn. You old guys can’t stay out past⁠—”

I cuffed the back of his head. “Do you want to bag skate tomorrow? Because that could be arranged.”

“Empty threat,” he said, elbowing me.

“Oh yeah?” I cocked a brow. “How sure are you that it’s an empty threat?”

He smirked, but some fear flickered cross his face.

I slapped his shoulder hard. “That’s what I thought.” As I rose, I said to the other guys, “I’m going to go close out my tab. See you at breakfast.”

There were murmurs of “G’night, Saints” and “see you tomorrow,” and I headed up to the bar to pay for my share of the bill.

I’d just handed the bartender my credit card when someone appeared beside me. I turned, expecting to see one of my teammates.

Instead… whoa. Hello. The man was taller than me by a few inches, and he looked Mediterranean—black, wavy hair, olive skin, gorgeous brown eyes. If I had to guess, he was in his mid twenties. Maybe thirty. The shy little grin on his full lips made my brain stutter, and that was before I realized he was looking right at me.

“Uh, hi.” He extended his hand. “You’re uh…” He gulped. “You’re Liam St. Clair, aren’t you?”

I put on my best media smile and accepted the handshake. “I am. You a fan?”

He nodded. “Big fan. I, um…” He hesitated, some extra color rushing into his cheeks. Then he seemed to steel himself and find some reserve of boldness. “Could I buy you a drink?”

From the heat in his eyes, he wasn’t just a fan looking for a friendly drink. I knew that look well. And I knew exactly where a drink like that in a place like this could lead, and damn if it wasn’t tempting. Maybe a couple of flirtatious drinks followed by a roll in the hay would shake all these depressing and frustrating thoughts out of my stupid brain.

But just thinking about going through all of those motions made me even more tired than I already was.

I kept my smile in place even as I shook my head. “I’d love to. I really would. But I have a meeting with the coaching staff tonight, so…”

“Oh.” The disappointment on his face added guilt to my stack of emotions. “Are you in town for long?”

“We’re flying out after tomorrow night’s game. I’m really sorry.”