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“Wow,” I hear from Hughes.
I turn around to see him stroll into the room, a carry-on bag over his shoulder. He dumps it on the living room floor.
“Listen to the two of you working out your feelings. I’m impressed.”
He doesn’t sound impressed at all. He sounds annoyed.
“Hey,” I said, relieved to see him for several reasons. If he’s home, that means his father must be feeling better. I’m also not embarrassed to admit I want to be off Crew duty. I’m not wired for this nursemaid shit. “I’m glad you’re back. How’s Clayton?”
“He’s good, actually. He’s bounced back quickly and is resting mostly peacefully, aside from a constant parade of family who insist on seeing him.”
“Not a bad problem to have people who love you,” I say.
Michael kicks off his shoes and neatly slides them under the bench we have by the front door for shoe storage. “True.”
“How’s your mom doing?” Crew asks. “She must have been freaking out.”
“My mom is one tough lady. She’s holding it all together, as usual.” Michael takes in the mess splayed out across the coffee table. “How’s it going here? How are you doing, McNeill?”
“I’m bored, and Nate sucks at being entertaining.”
That makes me roll my eyes. “Drama queen. Danielle has been indulging your every whim.”
Crew grins. “Not myeverywhim. This no-sex rule is going to kill me.”
His anger with me seems to have passed, and I smile back. “Then watch where you’re going next time you’re on the ice.”
“What time does Dani get home from the bookstore?” Michael asks. “She texted me right before I left Decatur but I think I missed some of the details.” He rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, like he has a headache.
“She should be home any minute, actually. I wish you would have told me your plans,” I tell him, guilt still sitting on my chest uncomfortably. “I could have flown you there and back in my jet, you know that.”
“I didn’t need a private jet. There’s a million flights between Vegas and Chicago. And I wanted to escort Dani here. She was very worried about our star player here.”
I hesitate, because I’m not sure if my opinion is wanted or needed. Michael’s relationship with Danielle is his, even if we are all living together and sharing her.
I decide now isn’t the time. Hughes looks like he’s exhausted.
“Can you medically clear me for sex?” Crew asks.
“If you’re not cleared to play, you shouldn’t be having sex,” I say, worried about the playoffs all over again. I don’t trust this hotshot not to reinjure himself, because even though he prioritizes hockey, he also thinks he’s invincible.
“We’re not at work,” Michael says. “Ask me tomorrow.”
Crew’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you for real?”
“Yes. You wouldn’t call or text another team physician at home to ask that. We should have boundaries. This is our personal space, not the office.”
It’s a fair point. But it seems damn near impossible to keep the two separate.
“We all are part of the Racketeers,” Crew points out. “And we’re all in love with Dani and living with her. There’s going to be spill over.”
Michael starts cleaning up the mess of takeout boxes on the coffee table, his lip curling in disgust. “Fine. Whatever. I’m too tired to have this conversation right now.”
I’m stunned speechless. Hughes never ‘whatever’s’ anyone.
Before I can respond, he heads up the stairs.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
