by RJ Scott
I was fidgety, anxious, bordering on worried, and I laid the blame for that solely at whoever was out there messing with my life. We had a break, and I was scheduled for two interviews, one with Kyle, and another alongside a couple of the other guys, talking about hockey in general.
“Garrett, tell us about the season so far.”
Jason moved into my peripheral vision, just inside the gate by the interviewer, and he sent me a soft smile, which I guess was supposed to be reassuring. But, right behind him Colby was hovering, his hands over his chest, and he looked pissed.
Luckily, I could do these interviews in my head, and once we’d covered the hellos I went onto autopilot, using my best grins, and my most sexy winks at the camera.
Milk it. When all else fails be the funny guy.
I was standing between a skater from Washington and one from Columbus, and this was where I shone.
“Our season is going great, third in the conference, now if only these guys would mess up we could go top.”
There was banter then, the three of us making fun of each other, but when the other two left, the interviewer tugged me back.
“Would you give us a few sound bites regarding the auction?”
“Happy to do that.”
“Tell us a bit about the event.”
“Myself and others have put ourselves forward in a bachelor auction raising money and awareness of LGBT issues in and around hockey. I’m excited to be part of it, and hope we can show future hockey players that it doesn’t matter who you love. If you can play, you can play.”
“That’s an admirable sentiment.” The interviewer smiled at me, but the tone of his words ground my gears.
“There’s nothing admirable about a kid at thirteen who begins to learn who they are and then are faced with a brick wall when it comes to opportunity, faced with slurs and hatred that makes no sense in a modern world.”
“Clearly I meant—”
“I receive letters on a weekly basis from kids who ask me how they can be strong like me, or like any of the guys involved in tonight’s event.” I turned away from the interviewer and stared right down the camera. “To everyone who is out there wanting to play professional sports, if you want to play, you should be able to play, and you know what? I’m right here, and I’ve got your back.”
“Uhm, thank you—”
“Are we doing the spot with Kyle now?” Before the interviewer could ask me anything else, or make me mood dip any lower, I interrupted his line of questioning.
Second up was the one with Kyle, and it was an easy interview. I didn’t have to think hard when it came to bantering with my best friend, and the interview was easy, talking about growing up together and having a friendship with hockey as the background. It was nice to talk about things that made me forget I had a stalker. Then, back in the competition, I lost myself in the camaraderie of playing hockey and having fun. I even managed to forget the looming uncertainty of imminent death at the hand of a stranger who couldn’t be found.
I managed a respectable third in the fastest shot, which was higher than I’d expected given I was up against some of the NHL’s best, but then I had that twinge of anger still lingering in my blood firing my shot. With Colby hovering I was losing my ability to fake everything, and by the time I came off the ice I’d worked myself up a head of steam.
“I don’t need two of you hovering,” I snapped under my breath.
Jason winced, but Colby sighed.
“We have a job to do.” He and Jason exchanged pointed glances, but if anything Jason was angry as well. If that anger was directed at me then I didn’t need that kind of negative energy.
The Edmonton player who’d beaten Kyle passed me and stick tapped my calf, which I returned without even looking.
“Nice shooting,” the guy said.
“Nice speed,” I said back, as if this was all normal, and that I wasn’t standing here with two bodyguards in my space. Of course, in suits they could’ve been mistaken for management, but I was very conscious of the way he and Colby were glaring at people, and I knew a couple of my fellow hockey players were giving me a wide berth.
“Please ask him to stop freaking people out,” I begged Jason, and then went to change. By the time I’d showered, changed into a suit and headed out I’d calmed down, but jumping at shadows was a thing, because Jason standing outside the door and giving me a quiet “hey” had me jumping so hard I nearly careened into him.
I need to calm the fuck down. “What’s happening with the event?” and the one thing I didn’t even want to think about. “Will everyone be okay?”
“Colby has the team already in place, it will be okay,” Jason reassured me.
In silence we headed out to the car, and in the space of fifteen minutes we were back at the event hotel and headed straight up to my room. There was no one hovering outside, and when we went in there was no bad guy waiting to hurt me. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t the complete silence.
Nor was it the way that Jason grabbed me and held me close, or the way he pushed me back to the bed and followed me down, kissing me, and rolling so he was on top of me.
“You out there, on the ice, so sexy,” he murmured between kisses, grasping my hands and locking them over my head, nibbling his way down my chin, back to kissing me, and all the time rocking against me.
I could’ve stayed there all day, just like that, locked in place, him and me.
My cell vibrating in my pocket pulled me back from my thoughts. “I have to take this,” I murmured.
With a last kiss he reluctantly released his hold on me. He didn’t, however, get off me, which made me smile as I checked the message from Kyle, including a selfie of him in his tux with a purple waistcoat.
“I’m too sexy for this tux,” I read out to Jason, and tilted the screen so he’d be able to see.
“Not as sexy as you will be,” Jason said, and stole one last kiss before rolling up and off me.
“You’re biased.”
Then it was his turn to have to answer his phone, connecting with Colby, and from the smile and nod he gave me, it was good news. “I’ll let him know.” As soon as he finished the call, he came to stand next to me by the garment bag hanging from a hook on the closet. I was just about to open it, take out the tuxedo and hope to hell I lived up the sexy reputation that Jason had suggested. The sexier I was, the more money I would raise. Right?
“The team got the guy, down in the kitchen, gun for hire, the cops are on their way.”
“As easy as that?”
Jason shrugged. “Sometimes it is that easy. He wasn’t clever, he was just the monkey hired by your former agent.”
“So it’s really over, right?”
“He can’t hurt you now, but Colby is discussing the situation with him to find out more.”
Jason kissed me, and again I melted into his hold, because it was exactly where I wanted to be.
When we separated I felt lighter. No one was in danger, it was over, and now we could have the charity event and everything would be fine.
“I need to get into this tux.” I reluctantly ended the kisses, and reached for the zipper, but he stopped me and grasped my hand.
“Before you do that, can we make a promise that this doesn’t end here? That we make what we’ve had become more? You make me smile, and I love watching you play. Bodyguard 101 can get the hell out of here, because I’m falling in love with you.” He cradled my face, and my chest tightened with emotion. Every sense was heightened, the peace of the room, the muffled sounds of people walking past in the corridor outside, and the scent of him in my space. “When I think about all the tomorrows, I fantasize about you and me starting something real. I know it’s just the beginning but can you see the same thing?” His kiss was so gentle it was barely enough to register, but my heart knew that he meant every word, and maybe this could be the best thing that happened to me—if I ignored the creepy stalker part.
“I can see i
t too,” I murmured, and we kissed once more before I moved back. “In fact, I can see whomever my date is tonight being super-jealous that I have a hot boyfriend to meet up with afterward.”
“Who says I won’t bid on you?” he whispered the question close to my ear, and sent a shiver down my spine.
“I kind of hope you do.” I turned back to the tux, my hand on the zipper, pulling it down where it caught on something. I tugged a little, thinking it was just stuck, but yelped when Jason stilled my hand with a brutal grip.
“Stop,” he ordered, and in a flash he wasn’t a lover whispering in my ear, but my bodyguard with an icy focus.
“What?” I wriggled a finger in his hold, but there wasn’t much room to move, and he frowned in concentration, staring at my hand. I followed his line of sight to where my fingers still held the zipper. A scrawled note was pinned to the crisp white shirt, a page torn from a notebook.
Don’t look down. Don’t let go. Five minutes and counting. Tick tock.
“Don’t look down,” Jason ordered, and fuck it, but I was human and I had to look. Only there was nothing there, no hole about to open under my feet, nothing. “Don’t let go of the zipper. I’m going to release my hold of your hand, but you need to keep it exactly where it is. Same pressure, everything. Can you do that?”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer my question. “Can you do what I asked?”
“Okay. I can… Jason, what the hell—”
“Let me think,” he snapped, and I stayed quiet.
He released my hand, guiding my other to support the one holding the zipper. He didn’t move his feet but he went to a crouch, checking around my shoes, feeling the carpet, and yes, I was watching him because if he found anything and we were both dying here then I wanted to know it was coming. As he stood he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a pager, pressing a button on it, and pocketing it again.
“What—”
“Don’t move.” He examined the zipper, and peered inside, going white and letting out a curse.
“What!”
“Okay, I need you to stay calm.”
“I am calm—”
“Look at me, Garrett.”
I carefully turned my head until I caught his dark-eyed gaze, and waited for him to say something.
“Don’t panic, okay, we’ve got this. There are wires inside, caught on the zipper, I don’t know what they’re attached to, but it could be there’s a pressure plate under your feet linked to explosives.”
“Wha—a bomb?” Fear coursed through me, I was scared, terrified, about to lose my shit, but I kept hold of that damn zipper because Jason had asked me to.
“It might be nothing,” he murmured, but he didn’t sound very convinced. “Colby is on his way.”
I didn’t even ask how Colby knew, assumed it was something to do with the small device in Jason’s pocket, but all I could think was that this room was a dangerous place to be.
“You need to go,” I said, lifting my chin stubbornly.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“This is no time for heroic bodyguard bullshit,” I snapped at him, anything to get him to leave. There was no point in both of us getting hurt, or worse, killed.
He closed his hand over where I held the zipper, releasing some of the pressure of the awkward position, and then rested his forehead on mine. “This isn’t anything to do with being a bodyguard.”
“Just leave,” I implored.
He murmured, “I’m not moving.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid, you fucking asshole!” I tried for dismissive and rude.
But he just stayed where he was, steady and sure. “Not going anywhere. I love you.”
“Well, I don’t even like you,” I lied.
He huffed a soft sound. “Doesn’t matter what you think. I’m still not leaving.”
The door opened, and I saw in the mirror that Colby was there.
“Colby, make him go—”
“J? Sit rep?”
“Possible pressure plate, no wires I can see outside of the garment bag, I’m looking at a fifty-fifty.”
Fifty-fifty what? Survival? How could I die without telling Jason I was falling for him too? How could I even think of him being hurt because of me? The stubborn man wasn’t going to leave me, I knew that, so I had to tell him what I was hiding away in my heart.
“I love you,” I blurted.
“I know you do,” Jason deadpanned.
“Guys, let’s leave the heart-to-heart for later, eh?” Colby took a cautious step into the room, then went to a crouch the same as Jason had, feeling the carpet, looking around the area, and up the wall, finishing at our joined hands. “I’d put it at eighty-twenty,” he said.
“Okay,” Jason said and then in a smooth move he slid between me and the suit carrier, ducking under my arm until I was completely protected from whatever was behind Jason. Then he kissed my forehead. “Eighty percent unlikely to be live explosives.”
“Twenty percent likely,” I said, and my heart snapped apart as I realized he was using his body to protect me as much as he could. “You need to move.”
“No, I don’t.”
“If it goes off you’ll die. Please don’t do this,” I pleaded.
“It’s my job.” He smiled at me, all traces of seriousness erased for a few moments. My chest tightened so much it was hard to breathe, and the fear that was coiling inside me made me want to grab him and throw myself on top of him. He quirked a small smile at me, and I fought the fear and decided that I needed to calm the fuck down.
“Then you need to retrain,” I began, shakily, then cleared my throat. “I won’t have our kids losing their dad.”
“Kids, eh?”
“Two, at least. And a dog.”
Colby went back and closed the bedroom door; I guess he didn’t want anyone else to come in, but why were two of these men prepared to get hurt for me?
“We have to move the client, J,” Colby said.
“No!” I snapped. “I’m not going anywhere. Wait for the bomb squad or something, please.”
“There’s no time,” Jason murmured, and then he looked over at my shoulder to Colby and nodded. “On three.”
Everything was a blur, one minute I was upright, the next, there was shouting, and I was eating carpet with Jason sprawled over me, and Colby next to us. Nothing happened, there was no fiery explosion, no death, just an innocent set of clothes sprawled on the floor, wires that went nowhere, and the note fluttering down after them.
“There’s nothing there, Garrett. Are you okay?”
I scrambled back until I hit the bed, the fear in my chest releasing in a yelp, and then Jason was there at my side, holding my hand, helping me to stand until I slumped to the bed.
“He told us there was one final thing,” Colby explained to Jason, talking over my head as if I wasn’t there. “We were looking at the event setup not—”
“What the fuck?” I asked, my voice trembling, adrenaline coursing through me without end. “What the actual fuck?”
“Silas Merrin, that’s his name, gun for hire, sometimes hacker. He was playing with you, said he’d been told that the intention was to get the hotel locked down, meaning you’d back out of the event, and somehow the Dragons would get a heap of bad publicity. He was paid by Prentice Corp, via Shaun, to mess with your head, and Shaun couldn’t contact him to call him off. Silas carried on with what he’d been hired to do.” Colby explained as if that made everything okay.
“That’s fucking shit,” I managed those few words, but then shut down.
“It’s done,” Jason said, and attempted to pull me into a hug, but I needed space, I needed to breathe.
I bent to pick up the clothes, and laid them on the bed. “I have to get ready for the auction.” I could tell that I was in shock, that the adrenaline shot had yet to subside, but this was my way of dealing with whatever the hell just happened.
“You should cancel.”
“I’m not canceling.”
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Colby said, and I don’t know if it was his words, but I darted into the bathroom and was sick. Jason came to the door to check on me but I nudged it shut with my foot and he didn’t push his way in. Last thing I needed was him touching me right now. When I came back out, feeling halfway human, Colby was chatting with Jason. He acknowledged me with a nod, and then left, taking the note with him. Finally, Jason began to help me out of my post-game suit, all the while chatting to me about the event.
“I can tell everyone you’re ill,” he said.
“No.”
He brushed a kiss to my forehead and then straightened my bowtie, and tugged at my collar, before smiling.
“Looking good, number twenty-three.”
“It’s my game face,” I said, and wondered if I was going to be sick again.
He escorted me downstairs and I greeted everyone I saw with enthusiasm, and they all smiled back, so I must have been faking everything okay. I sat at one of the designated tables to one side of the stage, staring at the flower arrangement, a mix of white, gold, and rainbow-tinted blooms, in the middle, the ebb and flow of people around me. I even answered a question about the order of bachelors on the stage.
I know I must have been doing okay, because no one was pointing at me and whispering to their friends. At least, I couldn’t see anyone.
“You look really pale,” someone pointed out.
“Sleepless night,” I lied, and thank God he moved away.
Kyle came toward me, and I know he’d be the one to see through the mask, and I panicked, but at the last minute he was distracted by some kind of fracas that seemed to involve Layne. I couldn’t bring myself to check it out, although as one of the organizers I should’ve been involved. There was some shouting, and tension gripped me as I made the split-second decision to stay put instead of running as my instincts told me to.
“It’s okay,” Jason murmured. “Let’s just get you through this. I’m getting you some water,” he said.