“Shit.” Jason slapped a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t being an ass, I swear.” He crossed the space separating them and hugged Jett to his chest. They were almost the same height, so he begrudgingly set his chin on a broad shoulder and sighed.
“You did good, buddy,” said Jason, ruffling his hair. “I have his rookie trading cards. Killinger is hot, and you’re pretty. It’s the perfect combination.”
Ryan sighed loudly and hooked his hand into the back of Jason’s jersey, yanking him away from Jett so he could breathe again. “Stop talking, for the love of fuck,please stop talking.”
“I’m just trying to support him,” said Jason, stumbling back to his spot next to Ryan like he was being pulled on a leash. “He’s sad because his guy isn’t here, so it’s our job to cheer him up.”
Jett needed to take hold of this situation before they ended up at a random bar, getting shit-faced and table-top dancing.
“I’m going to call him,” said Jett, already pulling out his phone to show them what he was doing. “I told him I would after practice, so you guys can go ahead, and I’ll take a few minutes to talk with him. Tomorrow I’ll do better, I swear.”
And just for good measure, Jett picked a number and hit call.
Ryan and Jason scrambled out of the hallway, giving him thumbs up and silent cheers. Jett waved and watched them go, relief filling him once they were out of sight.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Arlo,” said Jett quietly. “I have to kill some time, and you’re a thirty-minute drive from me. Can we meet for lunch?”
Arlo paused long enough that Jett checked to see if he had been hung up on.
“Yeah, Fraser. Send me the location and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks.” Jett hung up and started Googling somewhere to go. He hadn’t had the guts to contact Harrison other than sending his landing confirmation text, but if anyone could help him sort out his feelings for Killinger—it was Mini Killinger.
Jett
“You okay? You sounded serious on the phone,” Arlo said as he smoothly slid into a booth at the bistro halfway between their respective hotels.
“No.” Jett heaved a sigh. “I’m playing like shit, I’m crying like a pregnant woman overeverything,and I haven’t heard from your damn cousin since I left there.”
Arlo didn’t look surprised. He paused to order them drinks when the waitress came over, waiting for her to walk away before he replied.
“Did he get you pregnant?”
“What?”
Arlo shrugged. “Well, it would explain the crying.”
“It’s called I miss him and I haven’t heard from him, and I’m being stupid and falling for him when he lives four provinces away, and he didn’t goddamn follow me to training camp, and he’d rather sit in the woods and brood and be a hermit.”
Arlo’s face broke into a grin. “You asked him to live with you? Bro, you move fast.”
“I didn’t—” Jett broke off. “Oh god, I did.”
“Did you…not mean to?” Arlo looked like he was enjoying this way too much, and his handsome Killinger looks comforted Jett as much as they made him ache to see Harrison.
“No, I did. I forgot to clarify that he wouldn’t be living in my condo and like, sharing my bed, and we’d be a couple. I was desperate not to leave him, so that’s on me. I don’t care if he doesn’t want to live together. God, I’ll buy him the condo next door.”
“And he doesn’t know any of this?”
Jett sighed. “No. I’m freaking out. My teammates are worried about me, and I’m playing terribly. I might get sent back down at this rate.”
“You are not because you’re Jett Fraser. You realize that youplaying like shit,” Arlo made finger quotes, “is like a mediocre player’s best, right?”
“Yeah, and mediocre players get traded all the time.” Jett began fiddling with a napkin, crinkling it and tearing the edges. “Hell, sometimes good ones do. Nothing is guaranteed.”
“Toronto is not going to trade you.” Arlo took the napkin from him before he made a mess. “You were a Number One Draft Pick for fuck’s sake. Call my stupid cousin and tell him you love him, and tell him you want his dumb hermit babies, and you want him to build you a log cabin, or whatever it is that he does in the Nova Scotian wilderness.”
