I needed to fix this.
***
I was stalling.
A day and a half had passed in a blur. We’d flown to Melbourne and had barely checked into the hotel before we were out again. The team had participated in a charity golf game while Cara and I checked on the venue and worked out a few last-minute issues for the dinner Delaware’s Warehouse were putting on for the team. Her dad had picked the restaurant—some swanky affair in the city known for its cuisine. But I wasn’t impressed. They’d managed to lose the list of food allergies Cara had forwarded them and weren’t happy about having to cater to them now. It was a good thing she’d checked, or we likely would have been calling ambulances.
The dinner had run late, but I’d skipped out early. I wanted to give Cara space to catch up with her old friend and for Alec to hopefully enjoy some time with the team. I wasn’t sure if he’d sorted things out with the whole team, but I’d watched him in the bar the night of the last game. He was definitely on better terms with Gauthier, Hewitt, Rune, and Kreutzmann.
I got my workout in early this morning and managed to avoid seeing anyone. I was grateful that I’d booked a boatbuilding experience the moment I’d known I would have a free day in Melbourne. I’d spent the whole day there, learning traditional methods—hand cutting, planing, and chiselling the timber into the right shape. My classmates and I had made a toy-sized rowboat. Random, yes, but fun too. I spent all day, every day around boats and yachts. I watched as the tradies created art from the ground up. I saw yachts unveiled for their owners, and I’d helped launch hundreds of them into the water for the first time.
But I’d never had anything to do with building one.
Now, hot, sweaty, dusty, and on the tram back into the city, I was regretting it. I had just enough time to shower and change, grab a bite to eat, and head to the arena with Cara to cheer on our boys.
The Seals were headed for a win. I hoped.
I dashed across the lobby but came to a screeching halt the moment I spied him. Alec was waiting for the lift, wearing sweats and a pair of slides with white gym socks. He was holding a bottle of water. It looked like he’d been outside in the park, soaking up the sunshine. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked happy. The boyish grin on his lips as he laughed with his teammates lit me up from inside.
I wanted to go to him and let him know we’d be cheering him on. I wanted to tell him to look for Cara and me tonight in the stands. But I didn’t want to get in the way either. I didn’t want to distract him or risk pulling him out of the zone.
Alec was smiling, the centre of his teammates’ attention. They were ribbing him for something, playfully shoving him and laughing. Five guys surrounded him, talking at once, gesturing with their hands, and teasing him over something. They were byfar the loudest group in the room, carrying on like testosterone-fuelled teenagers. But it was heartwarming to see.
Alec had been struggling. At first I didn’t know what the cause was, only that his relationship with his teammates was in tatters. I didn’t want to pry. But the morning everything went to hell in a handbasket, I’d needed to know what the posts were about. So I googled his name. The rumours were brutal, and the vitriol was downright vicious.
Apparently, he’d been busted leaving his teammate’s house just before he’d arrived home. Everyone drew the same conclusion—Alec was banging Minns’s wife. The conversations I’d overheard now made a lot more sense. They didn’t surprise me, but I was disappointed for Alec—no one had corrected the rumours. No one had said he was incapable of it. I didn’t believe for a moment that he would hurt someone like that. But they obviously did.
No wonder tensions were running hot in the team.
But at least Gauthier and Hewitt seemed to be more levelheaded. In the team meeting I’d inadvertently walked in on, Gauthier had stood up for Alec, and they were bracketing him now, ribbing him the hardest.
I waited until they’d caught the lift before hailing one of my own. Then I headed straight to my room and showered. I was hungry, but seeing him just now had ignited something more inside me. I needed to fix things between us. I needed to make sure that we were good. I wanted him to know he had us on his side too. I wanted that for him—to know that we cared, that we wouldn’t turn our backs on him again.
But how?
I sat on the edge of the bed, flipping my phone over tossing up what to do. I needed advice.
I dialled Ezra and held my breath. Logically, I knew I didn’t need to be afraid of speaking with him about this—he wasbisexual himself—but my gut was swooping hard, equal parts nerves and excitement.
If we did this, if I managed to fix what was happening between Alec and Cara, I wasn’t going to stop there. Alec and I would happen too.
No pressure.
None at all.
Fuck me, what was I getting myself into?
“Hey, mate,” Ezra greeted, happiness bubbling through his voice.
“I need your help,” I blurted. Then I groaned. “Sorry, I’m freaking out.”
“What’s going on?” Ezra asked, always there for the people he loved.
I blew out a breath and opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
After long moments of silence, Ezra asked, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden interest in ice hockey, would it?”
“I’ve always loved sport, you know that,” I protested weakly, not even knowing why I was denying it.
