by Jeff Adams
“Kyle.” A guy who looked about the same age as me—and Austin for that matter—looked up from his keyboard. “Hello. I’m Jack, Austin’s assistant. Is he expecting you?”
I’d heard about Jack, the guy who apparently struggled to keep Austin on track, and I was about to derail that, at least for the afternoon.
“Hi, Jack. And, no. I’m trying to surprise him and hijack him for the afternoon. What’s his schedule look like?”
“Lots of internal meetings.” Jack looked disappointed. “He’s booked until seven.”
Extracting him from a schedule that lasted for six more hours did not seem possible.
“Can you show me those appointments, Jack?” A woman appeared next to me. She offered a smile before looking at Jack’s screen. It only took her a moment before she faced me again “Good to meet you, Kyle. I’m Tamara.”
“Yes. Austin’s told me a lot about you. It’s good to meet you.”
“Let me see if I can pull him away for you. An afternoon out would do him some good.” She scanned the screen and pointed at a couple entries. “Can you reschedule these to the morning? I can take the rest.”
“Sure thing.” Jack picked up his headset and started making calls.
“Go ahead and have a seat, Kyle, while I see what I can do. Do you have somewhere to be?”
Had Austin told her about my punctuality hang up?
“I need to be at the rink in forty-five minutes. If I leave here within twenty, it’s good.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
Raised voices seeped out as she went in Austin’s door. I suspected she had an uphill battle ahead. I shouldn’t have done this, turning up at his work place. What was I thinking? It wasn’t like showing up like he did in Vegas—that didn’t have the complications. I just barreled in here. Probably not my best idea.
I pulled out my phone and surfed around, looking for news on the trade rumors. The article G mentioned had a lot of comments—all the usual type that ranged between displeasure and happiness. Most agreed that our defense needed help, which I couldn’t disagree with. While we were winning recently, the teams we’d be up against in any playoffs were ones that our defense faltered against.
There was still a job for me to do for the team, so this couldn’t fill my head. I’d hoped to make myself invaluable, but it suddenly felt like the point of no return had passed.
Austin’s office opened, and he sounded extremely surprised.
“Are you seriously pushing me out the door?”
“Yes, I am.” Tamara, on the other hand, seemed amused. “You need to clear your head.” She sounded quite stern.
“Oh, Kyle. Tamara neglected to say you were sitting right here.” Austin put his messenger bag in the chair next to me and put his coat on.
“You two go have fun.”
I stood, and she gently pushed Austin in front of me. A smile lit up his face, and it extended up to his eyes. It was gorgeous. A little heat rose in my cheeks at the power of that smile directed at me.
“I’m coaching some of the kids in an after-school program that you help support. I thought you’d like to come along.”
We walked out of his office, heading for the stairs down to the lobby. “That sounds awesome. I’ve wanted to see the foundation at work. But middle of the day…”
I nodded. Missing part of a work day can be tough for parents, and it’s one of the reasons why the after-school programs were so important. It gave kids a place to go. “Today it’s important because one of the volunteers is home sick, so you’re going to be working—just not here.”
“Oh God, not on the ice I hope.” He stepped back with terror in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. There’s plenty to do off-ice.” I gently took his forearm to keep him moving forward.
“What are you up to after?” The momentary tension drained from Austin as we walked. “I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I’m not allowed back here for the rest of the day, even though it’s a bonkers day.”
I studied him and worried I’d gone too far. “If it’s really not a good time, we can raincheck on this.” I meant it, and I hoped I conveyed that.
He thought, but he also kept walking. “No. It’s good. It might be good to focus on something else for a while and let other parts of my brain work on the problems.”
“Alright then. One afternoon of fun coming up. And to answer your question, I’ve got nothing planned after this until practice in the morning. Did you have anything in mind?”
“I have no doubt we can figure out something.”
Score! I had an afternoon with Austin and he seemed happy to get away. I hoped this was good for both of us.
Eighteen
Austin
I might as well have been in an alternate universe. Picked up and whisked away on a midday outing. That had never happened.
The choice of outing was excellent. Like I told him, I’d always wanted to do something like this. Kyle definitely pushed me out of my routine in great ways.
“What’s the plan with the kids?”
“We’ve got young people from three community centers coming by to try out donated gear. If they like it, they get to keep it. They get to try out the gear on ice, skate around, and shoot a little if they want. I’ll be out there coaching. One of the local rinks is also going to sign up students for a discounted hockey class, which your foundation also underwrites.”
“Do you do this sort of thing a lot?”
He nodded. “As often as I can. Sports was so good to me I like to help others find that for themselves.”
We pulled up in the arena parking lot by the player entrance. A cluster of vans was nearby and that must mean at least some of the kids were here. “That’s why I started the foundation. I wanted to help get kids into whatever after school thing they wanted to do without worrying about paying for it. Give kids what I didn’t have myself.”
“I want to start something like that one day. I’m trying to, you know, structure my finances smartly while I’m earning this good money. I already make ridiculous amounts of money, and I need to make it work for me, my family, and the community.”
“Another way we’re sort of alike,” I said as we got out of the SUV. “We want to make sure we don’t lose our money.”
“You might be right.” He smirked at me.
We walked inside, and there were a few people around, some were players I recognized.
We headed into the locker room where a couple people put away things. It looked like laundry, maybe from the morning practice. Kyle said hello to the guys.
“I gotta lace up so I can be on the ice. Won’t take a minute.”
He seemed faster at getting in the skates than he had when we skated together. He was already in sweatpants, but after he hung his coat in the locker, he slipped out of the sweater he wore.
I restrained an audible gasp at seeing him shirtless for the first time. He had a perfect six pack and my mouth watered, wanting to lick around those ridges. A smattering of hair spread across his chest and a thin trail disappeared into his sweats.
I should look away.
He made no move to hide himself as he pulled a workout shirt over his head and then pulled on a Detroit jacket.
The image of his sculpted chest and abs was burned into my brain. I couldn’t fixate on it now because I couldn’t get aroused in these pants. Khakis didn’t hide much, and we’d soon be around kids.
“And in case you hadn’t heard,” he said as we went to the ice, “trade rumors spiked today.”
“Oh no. I hadn’t seen that.”
“Not a done deal, but it sounds far closer to it than I’d like.” Kyle struggled to keep his mood up. “I just wanted to mention it in case you hear any chatter here.”
I liked having the heads up but wished we could talk about it more. It’d be conversation for later.
The kids were closer to teens, most were between twelve and sixteen. I helped distribute gear and made sure t
he fit seemed right before they went on the ice. Sometimes they came back if something didn’t feel quite right. I loved how much equipment was here—a mix of donated and new.
Kyle had a blast on the ice alongside one of his teammates. Once Kyle retired from play, I easily imagined him coaching. He had such patience. He’d shown that with my lesson but it was even more on display here. He stayed on the ice until the last of his students was called off.
The ninety minutes flew by.
When he changed after the session, I busied myself on my phone so I wouldn’t stare.
“Everything okay at the office?”
“Seems okay.” I scanned the subject lines and nothing stood out as urgent. If something was on fire, they’d mark it urgent or call and nothing had come in while we were on the ice when I had my phone off.
“If you need to go back, you can say so. I heard some of the raised voices earlier.”
Ouch. He’d heard that. I’d been on the verge of losing my temper as one of our business development guys expressed a differing opinion on how we were handling follow up to the big presentation from last week. “Sorry you had to hear that. Things are more tense than usual with a couple clients in the balance and our yearly innovation summit coming up.”
He put a hand on my forearm and the understanding look in his eyes warmed me. “Only if you’re sure. I don’t want you in trouble with your staff, or with yourself, because I stole you away.”
“I’ll have time later tonight or tomorrow to go over what’s getting done.” No way was I giving up this afternoon with him. Plus Tamara knows I’ll pick up if she calls, and even though things are unsettled, she’s someone I can count on.”
“Do you want to pick up your car on the way to my place? Or, do you want me to drive you back after?”
His place. Interesting.
“I can get it later. I don’t want to risk getting sucked into something. You can drive or I can call a car.”
He nodded. “Off we go then.”
He offered me a hand up from the bench, but he didn’t let go afterward. Instead he held it as we left. Just as he started the car, his phone rang. On the dashboard, the word “Mom” appeared.
“Sorry.”
I stopped him before he could tap “Ignore.” “Don’t do that. It’s your mom. Take the call. I swear I won’t hold it against you.”
He studied me for a moment and smiled as he hit “Accept.”
“Hi, Mom. I’m in the car with a friend. What’s up?”
I liked how he immediately said that someone was with him. I imagined that was to keep the conversation away from anything that might be too personal, or maybe embarrassing.
“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Voicemail would’ve been fine.”
“I was about to send it there, but I was told not to.” He winked at me. Too cute.
“Well, I’ll only be a minute. I had a craving for lasagna, and since I had the time, I made it. I made a pan for you too. I can put it in my freezer, and you can get it later, or today. Whatever you want.”
The noise of delight Kyle made was music to my ears. What else got him to do that? “You know that’s my favorite. Can I just come get it now?”
“Of course.”
He looked at me. I had no problem eating lasagna. And I imagined home cooking from his mom—who he already said could be a chef—would be pretty incredible. I lived a life of takeout because I didn’t know how to cook. It’d be a treat no matter where we ate it. I nodded to indicate my okay to go get it.
“One second.” He hit the mute button. “Are we to the point where we see parents?”
“I’m okay with it if you are.”
“Okay then.” He unmuted the call. “We’re at the arena, so we should be there in about fifteen minutes. It’ll make a good dinner.”
“Perfect. I’ll leave it in the oven on warm. See you soon.”
He disconnected the call and music kicked on—the nineties channel from satellite radio.
If he was the least bit nervous about bringing me home, he hid it well as he asked, “So, lasagna for dinner?”
“Sure.” The afternoon kept getting better. Not just dinner now, but his mom’s cooking.
“I promise you’ve never had anything this good. Ever. And it beats anything we might’ve ordered in from my place. We can certainly binge some more Parks and Rec.”
“I’d like that.” It seemed the perfect continuation of the day. “Anything I should know about your mom? Topics to stay away from? Stories I should ask about you?” I grinned, which he caught. I got a brief evil glare in return.
“Don’t you dare try to get stories on your first visit.”
“No promises.” I broke into a laugh. I’d managed to rile him a bit, which did not happen often.
“You’re the most different guy I’ve ever brought home because you’re not an athlete. She’s good though, very relaxed. She’ll ask questions in a way that you don’t feel like you’re being interrogated.”
“Exactly how many guys have you brought home?”
“I guess I did make it sound like a lot.” He hesitated. “I dated two guys in high school—one between sophomore and junior year and another most of my senior year. And I dated a football player part of my freshmen college year. Once I got drafted, it’s really only been occasional hookups. So you’re the third I’ve brought home—the football player didn’t make it that far.”
No one in the seven years since he joined the Arsenal. I envied him having high school boyfriends. I remembered him being out back then, but I didn’t recall any dating gossip about him—then or now. Although I wasn’t exactly plugged in either.
“I’ve never brought anyone home. No one’s ever been serious enough.”
“Maybe you’ll change that soon.” The earnestness in his voice nearly cracked my heart open. Did he want to turn us into boyfriends? Could I be one that he deserved?
He turned onto a street lined with houses. They were well-kept and some appeared to be recently renovated.
“This the neighborhood you grew up in?”
“Yeah. It was a great neighborhood. A lot of people left when the city got depressed, but some of Mom’s best friends are still here, and the new families who have moved in are good people.”
“I have these visions of you playing street hockey out here.”
He pulled into a driveway. The garage door was open with an SUV identical to his—except it was red and his was black—parked inside.
“You’d think, but no. We were snobs and our hockey had to be on ice. There was a kid who lived down the street and his dad froze a small rink in their backyard for winter. The ice was pretty terrible but we made do, and you couldn’t beat a sheet of ice right here.”
We got out and met at the front of the car.
“You ready for this?”
I nodded, and we traded grins.
I followed him to the door that led into the house from the garage. He looked behind and gave me one last grin before he opened the door.
“Hey, Mom,” he said as we entered. The aroma of the lasagna hit me immediately and my mouth started to water. Signs of the day’s cooking showed with a stack of pans in the sink and splatters of sauce on the stove top. She stood at the sink working on the stack.
“Kyle. Hello. I’d say sorry about the mess, but I’m not because it was worth it.” She grinned as she dried her hands. I saw aspects of Kyle in her face, especially her nose, mouth, and cheeks as well as the dark hair. She came over and hugged Kyle followed by a quick kiss on his cheek. “And you must be Austin. Good to meet you. I am a hugger. Is that okay?”
She waited a beat, and I appreciated that I had the opportunity to decline but no way I’d refuse a hug from this vibrant person. I opened my arms, and we had a brief, warm hug. Happiness rolled over me. I’d only been here a minute but I knew this house radiated love and contentment. That feeling started with her and had to be where Kyle got it.
“Good to meet you as well
, Mrs. Pressgrove.”
She waved her hand in front of her. “None of that. You can either call me Greta or Mamma P like Kyle’s bestie Garrett does.”
I gave a nod. “Okay, Greta it is.” It didn’t feel right going right to the name Garrett used while Kyle and I were still early in our relationship. It’d be awesome to use it one day though.
“What are you two up to tonight?”
“Well, first thing is going to be some amazing lasagna—I’ve talked it up on the way here—and then probably chill with something on TV.”
“It’s hard to beat quiet nights like that.”
“Since you’re feeding us, why don’t we finish the cleanup?” I hoped Kyle wouldn’t mind that I took the liberty on that, but it seemed the least we could do.
“Great idea.” He took off his coat, and I did the same. He hung them on hooks by the door while I pushed up my sleeves and headed to the sink.
“Oh. I like this one.” She touched my forearm and smiled as I passed. He didn’t seem to mind the remark, and I certainly didn’t. I got the Mom Thumbs Up.
Kyle washed and I dried. We put dishes away as we went, with his mom sitting at the island directing me where to put things. In between, we talked about the hockey season and even about the possible trade.
“You seem awfully calm about all this,” Greta said with a bit of a mom tone.
“I don’t want to go, but unless I’m going to quit, there’s not much I can do.”
“I’d prepared for a tantrum.” I caught the slightly evil glint in her eye as I went from cupboard back to the sink.
“Seriously, Mom?” Kyle whirled around from the sink, sponge dripping on the floor. The mortified look on his face was priceless—you’d think she’d brought out baby pictures. “You say that in front of the first guy I’ve brought home in ages.”
My heart leapt once again to be referred to that way. He hadn’t said boyfriend, but it hovered so near that designation.
“If he doesn’t know already, he should know the moods you have.” They exchanged smirks. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re doing okay.”