Keeping Kyle: A Hockey Allies Bachelor Bid MM Romance #3 (Hockey Allies Bachelor Bid Series)

by Jeff Adams

  Maybe management could walk in and tell me I had to go to Phoenix immediately. Do not pass go. Do not collect your potential boyfriend. Go be a center in another state. Thank you and goodbye. That would be the only thing that could extract me from what I’d signed myself up for.

  I finished getting cleaned up, and no escape hatch appeared. With no other choice, I headed home. No sooner was I in the car and I got fidgety, my fingers tapping against the steering wheel while my left leg bounced.

  At home, I tidied up what little there was to put away—a few stray dishes in the sink and some mail that was spread across the coffee table. Prepping the food relaxed me a bit. The bacon needed to be cooked and cooled so it could be chopped before going into the pancake batter.

  What possessed me to send that message? So freaking stupid.

  The consolation was that we’d soon know where we stood.

  As I cooked up way more bacon than I needed, my phone chirped.

  Walking through the airport now. Need me to pick up anything?

  It’d be embarrassing if I said no only to discover that I indeed needed something, but my quick inventory showed everything was here.

  Nope. All good. See you when you get here.

  I grabbed a few strips of that extra bacon and chowed down. The postgame hunger creeped in, and nobody was going to miss them.

  Great. Be there soon.

  Did I need to change clothes? As soon as I’d gotten home, I stripped out of my suit—no way I’d cook in that. But were sweats the best choice?

  I headed to the bedroom. I couldn’t cook anything else until Austin arrived. My nerves had me overthinking everything. Sweats were fine. He’d seen me in sweats before. This wasn’t a date. We were eating and talking.

  I straightened the bed up since I’d not made it this morning. Silly since we had no business ending up back here. Still, I fussed with everything.

  The doorbell rang. He’d made good time.

  Crap.

  Shoes or no shoes. Were socked feet okay?

  Overthinking again. My house. I was comfortable after game. I laughed nervously at myself.

  I headed for the door quickly; he didn’t need to think I wanted him to freeze out there.

  Damn. He looked amazing. He clearly went directly to the airport after his meetings because he was in one of his good suits. No tie but the jacket, shirt, and pants fit him just so, perfectly highlighting the geek I’d already fallen for.

  More importantly, he looked exhausted and, worse, defeated. What had been going on?

  “I’m glad you messaged.” He turned to look at me as I closed the door.

  Should I hug him? Frustration rose in my gut—I hated all the questions.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been quiet. It was a jerk move.”

  “I could’ve done more than just text too. I could’ve found out from Jack where you were and came to you.”

  Sad laughter followed.

  He made the decision on the hug, closing the distance between us and wrapping me tight. I didn’t hold back and wrapped my arms around him. The faintest whiff of his cologne remained, probably left over from when he got dressed this morning. He relaxed as his entire body unclenched and his shoulders dropped.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just been…” If he wanted to continue, he could, and I’d hold him for as long as he wanted. “I’m just happy to see you,” he said after a moment. With that, he loosened his hug, and I did the same so it wouldn’t get awkward.

  He forced a smile as he stepped back, but his eyes didn’t contain the same emotion. He was holding something back—whether it was about us or work…?

  “Let’s cook.” I shifted us to something safer.

  “Yes.” He followed me to the kitchen as he talked. “Have you at least eaten something? After all, I know how you get postgame.”

  “I might’ve eaten some of the bacon.”

  “Can’t go wrong with that.” He slipped off his suit coat and draped it over one of the chairs at the breakfast bar. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Want to scramble the eggs?

  “That I can do. It’s one of the few culinary skills I have. I can also make toast. Anything else might get a little out of control.”

  “Good to know.” I took stuff out of the fridge as he hovered around the edge of the counter near the stove. “I’ll get a little bit ahead on the pancakes, then you can do that.” I busied myself with a large mixing bowl, the one Mom had given me a few years back specifically for pancakes. “What sent you off to New York so quickly?”

  “A lot went wrong Thursday morning. I went for some meetings, hoping to fix it.” Out of nowhere, he started a pot of coffee. It’d go great with the food, but I hadn’t expected him to just do it. My heart did a somersault. This was a flash of what life could be like, making food and talking at the end of a day. “I failed though.”

  The tension returned to his shoulders.

  “Is the company going to be okay?” Part of me didn’t want to know because knowing would only draw us closer together rather than separating. Still, I knew how important this was, and I couldn’t avoid the question.

  He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might cry. “I don’t know. It’s pretty bad. Most of our clients and prospects are extremely unhappy.”

  Knowing how he thought, I didn’t have to make much of a leap to know that he completely blamed himself.

  “Tamara and I have an emergency meeting with the board tomorrow. The bad news will outweigh the good.”

  I reached out and gave him a quick embrace. The company meant the world to him. I bit back my reflex response that everything would be okay.

  I sighed, frustrated on his behalf. “What will the board do?”

  I went back to getting the batter together, but I made sure to pay attention as he talked.

  “The company is set up in thirds. I have a third, Tamara has a third, and the people that make up the board have the rest. This could get interesting because Tamara and I have majority when we’re agreeing with each other. It gets more interesting if we don’t because the board can sway the outcome. It’s rare that Tamara and I disagree. But with everything that’s happened, I honestly don’t know. The board could justifiably decide to oust me, and if Tamara agreed…”

  He looked like emotions might explode out of him. His voice remained even, but the stress was etched deep in the lines around his eyes and on his forehead.

  “I have no idea what to say. I know I can’t make it better or make it go away.”

  “To be honest with you, being with you helps. I can’t explain it, but you calm me down.”

  Dropping the whisk in the batter mid-stir, I went and pulled him in close for a good, proper hug. He laid his head against my chest, and I just held him. We stayed that way for a few minutes until he pulled back and looked up and me.

  “As much as this is wonderful, I’d really like some food. The lingering bacon smell is really making me hungry.”

  We chuckled, and I gave him one last squeeze. “Fair enough. Nothing quite like that smell to kick in the hungry.”

  I popped the oven on warm and set my large skillet—also a gift from Mom—on a burner. “I’m thinking be ready to scramble eggs in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I saw some sausage in your fridge. Any chance we can cook up some of that too?”

  “More pork is never wrong.”

  We fell into a good rhythm. He cooked sausage while I made pancakes. He’d open the oven and slide out the rack so I could add to the ones warming. When it was time, he got the eggs going.

  Again, all this was a flash of what a future could be. He’d be in more comfortable clothes. There might even be a kid. A wave of sadness rolled through me since this seemed unattainable with him.

  It didn’t take long to have the meal ready and laid out across the breakfast bar. We sat at the corner so we were close—our knees touching—and could look at each other.

  We
ate in silence for a few minutes. Unlike our first postgame meal, I kept myself from devouring everything at once. Although he did eat at a good clip himself.

  “This is really good. Once again, your mom comes through.”

  “Yeah. She’s awesome.” I sighed as nerves clinched my chest. I couldn’t delay anymore. “I have to ask, what happened? I didn’t hear from you at all. We went from an amazing night to dead silence.”

  Now he released a heavy sigh.

  Here we go.

  Twenty-Six

  Austin

  He locked eyes with me. Could I just say nothing and eat?

  Of course not.

  After his amazing hug, talking about my withdrawal became more difficult.

  “I… I… pulled back.” Fuck that. I couldn’t let the anxiety get the better of me and retreat to stumbling over words. “It wasn’t right. You deserved to know where my head was, but I put everything I had into work. You know how important it is to me and how the thought of losing it terrifies me, which is exactly where I’m at right now. I lost focus… and I have no idea what to do.”

  He looked like I’d punched him. The bit of a smile he’d had disappeared, and a storm rolled through his beautiful eyes.

  “I don’t know what to do now.” The speed that the words spilled out of my mouth increased. “There are parts of us that are so good together. You calm me down, make me happy. I want that, but I don’t know if I can have a boyfriend and a company. I know that’s sappy, but it’s how I feel.”

  He almost opened his mouth, but I plowed ahead, afraid that if I stopped before I said it all that I’d chicken out.

  “So much of me wants us to work. But I don’t know how to give you the boyfriend you deserve. And I know I should let some of the work go for my sanity. I know that here.” I tapped on my head and then my heart. “But there’s a part”—I tapped on my head again—“terrified about getting into a position where I can’t take care of the people that are important.”

  My fork rattled against the plate as my hand shook. I talked okay, but other parts of me were freaking out.

  Kyle kept his eyes trained on me. I suppose I should be glad that he hasn’t already decided that we’re done. The very thing he’d been worried about—the job, lack of attention, all of it—was happening.

  “We’ve got the same problems,” Kyle said, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Phoenix looms. It’s just a matter of time. And then what? As much as I don’t want to leave home, I’m not gonna have a choice unless I walk away from my career, and, of course, I’m not going to do that. But me in Phoenix and you in Detroit. How is that good for us? Especially since we’re barely a couple. And I haven’t exactly been totally fair to you. You built AMDD from the ground up. How can I expect you to give me more attention than you give that? I was a shit even suggesting it.”

  The Phoenix thing hadn’t seemed as huge as my problem, but I saw his point. And his apology—the thing was, he’d pegged me right. Outside of another workaholic, no one was going to appreciate my work style. “I would say people make it work long-distance, but I don’t even know what that would look like with our schedules.”

  Kyle nodded and dropped his gaze to his plate. He moved around a couple of the sausage links. “We’re both pretty royally fucked on this one.”

  I grunted and took a big bite of pancake followed by some sausage. “Has Greta ever considered infusing these pancakes with sausage too? The combination with syrup is damn good.”

  The rapid topic shift didn’t faze him. “She’s done that a couple times. She’s never happy with how big the sausage ends up. Sometimes I just do a roll up.” He took one of the sausages, wrapped the pancake around it, swirled it in the syrup on his plate, and took a big bite. “It’s not exactly the proper way to eat these, and it can be far from tidy. Mom is probably twitching in her sleep right now because I’ve just done this when I’m eating with someone else.”

  We laughed while I did exactly what he’d done. It was perfection. We ate a couple more pancakes the same way.

  “How do we do this?” My voice broke. I hated that even though it perfectly expressed the situation.

  “We can at least stay friends, right?” Kyle looked at me earnestly.

  “I… um…” My thoughts scattered. I didn’t know how to finish that.

  “Or we become boyfriends who have to live in different places.” I wasn’t ready for that answer. “We see each other as often as we can. You managed to come see me in Vegas. I’ve certainly got the means to travel. I’ll be here during the off-season for sure. We keep going and see what happens. If we both want it, we should be able to figure it out. “

  Maybe all wasn’t lost.

  “I know I haven’t been the best.” I fought against looking somewhere else.

  “And I haven’t been the most flexible either.”

  “I won’t go silent again.” Quiet hadn’t done either of us any good, and I wouldn’t do that again.

  “Good. That was the worst.”

  “For what it’s worth, I felt bad every time I saw one of your messages.”

  We exhaled at the same time. He looked at me with the sweetest gaze, which quickened my pulse.

  “I’d been so worried about this talk.” Kyle sounded relieved, which unlocked some of my tension even as the board meeting loomed. “More breakfast? It’s too good not to finish.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Impulsively, I grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. He tasted like syrup since it’d been the hand he held the pancake with.

  We grabbed more of everything and kept eating—except we smiled as we went instead of wearing various looks of dread. The board meeting would be what it was, but I had Kyle again, and that made whatever came next okay.

  We finished a crazy amount of food. I’m not sure where I put all of it. While Kyle was refueling from the game, the meal was far bigger than my usual.

  Before we could utter a word after the feast, we yawned simultaneously.

  “Do you want to crash here?” Kyle asked. That was a surprise.

  “I’d love to. I’ve got to get up early though. It’ll mean an early alarm.”

  He leaned in and brushed my cheek with a kiss.

  “That’s okay. Like I said, I can catch more sleep on the flight to Dallas.”

  I cleared the dishes to the sink. As the hot water flowed, I swirled some soap from the dispenser onto the plates.

  “Leave those. I can clean up in the morning.”

  “No can do. I heard something recently that the rule was whoever didn’t cook had to do the dishes, and I think you did most of the cooking.”

  “I think it was more equal. I’ll help.”

  Comfort. The word kept bouncing around in my head. It defined the evening. Just being with Kyle, sharing meals, keeping house. I wanted to make this work.

  The cleanup took no time, and I followed Kyle as he turned off lights.

  “Do you want to shower or anything?” Kyle asked.

  “I’m really pretty wiped. Can we just fall into bed?”

  “More than okay.”

  Kyle slipped out of his sweats but stayed in blue boxer briefs. I went down to my boxers too, and we got in on opposite sides of the bed but met in the middle, just like the other night.

  I lay on my back, and Kyle wrapped his big, strong arm across my chest. He snuggled his head against my shoulder, planting a couple of kisses. I craned my head to put some on his forehead.

  I wanted to do more, but the exhaustion, combined with all the food, wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I happily drifted off, nestled in close.

  Twenty-Seven

  Kyle

  I hated that I had to leave after our breakfast. Waking up together started my day off great though. We cleaned up, had coffee, and then headed out. The Arsenal practiced at home and then flew to Dallas for a night game, which we lost.

  Austin and I texted during the days of the trip and talked before we went to sleep. It was fun F
aceTiming while we both lay in bed. He worried about the company and his ability to fix what had happened. He didn’t share details, which I both understood and appreciated since I wasn’t sure I’d get the nuances. He invited me to come speak about leadership and community at the innovation summit that was coming up, and I said yes. If he wanted me there and he thought it could help, I’d gladly do it.

  We stayed away from heavy relationship stuff, which was probably for the best. Those things were better done in person, and we both seemed on the same page with that without so much as an awkward attempt at it.

  Tonight, we played, and that meant sharing the ice with Garrett.

  G and I messed with each other relentlessly during the game. I made one goofy face at him as we lined up for a face-off, and that set the tone for the entire game—faces and jokey trash talk when we were in earshot. It wasn’t bad sportsmanship, although the refs did keep an eye on us because the occasional outbursts of laughter was quite unusual.

  During the second intermission, David told me that the local sports network actually wanted me and G for an interview since it was clear that, while there was a rivalry between the teams and a serious game going on, we’d obviously been friends forever and knew how to have fun. We’d squared off dozens of times over the years and had never messed around like this before, but I had a ball with it, and I knew he did too.

  I’m sure I liked it more than he did because the Arsenal led the game.

  “If you’re gonna move that slow, ESPN might take you off that cover,” I quipped to G as he failed to catch me on a breakaway. His goalie covered the shot so I didn’t feel too bad about harassing him more in the final minutes of the game.

  “I didn’t get that cover for speed. So just keep talking. I might use this body to knock you on your ass.” He passed super close to me so a ref wouldn’t hear and take it as an actual threat. It didn’t matter, though, since that was our last shift before the final buzzer.

  After the stars of the game were announced, G and I would return to the ice to talk to the reporter. Since I wasn’t a star, I went to the locker room, stored my stick, and tried to arrange my hair so it wouldn’t totally look like helmet head.