hitting a fellow detective, no matter how satisfying, wouldn’t do Laura any good. She needed him to be her strong, stable big brother, not the reckless boy he’d left behind.
His emotions were still raw though. And seeing Braxton hadn’t helped. He’d thought he’d closed that particular door, but while he’d been waiting for Laura, suddenly Braxton was there.
A complication he couldn’t handle.
Fucking handsome, looking so vulnerable part of Ryan told his sensible side to fuck off and cross the short distance and hold him. Take the pain out of his eyes. Explain why he couldn’t be the person Braxton so clearly wanted him to be.
But there was still some hope in Braxton’s eyes, hidden among the confusion. Hope that didn’t belong there, not after the small bit of time they’d been together. Braxton was young, so maybe Ryan had been wrong about what he actually needed. Maybe he was ready for a relationship. Maybe he needed a connection with whoever he had sex with. Maybe being his first lover—the first he didn’t have to pretend with—had him feeling there was a connection between them.
Ryan wouldn’t lie to himself and say he was completely immune to Braxton. He could easily get wrapped up in the man. Forget the age difference, or how little time he had to devote to a relationship. Or how little desire…
No, desire definitely wasn’t a problem. He’d take Braxton back into his bed in a second. See if he looked as hot on his knees wearing a collar as Ryan imagined.
None of that mattered. Braxton was already in too deep, much too fast. Ryan would hurt him, either now or later.
Better it be now.
The young man would recover.
First, he had to understand there was nothing here for him. Even if Ryan had to make Braxton hate him to do it. Which shouldn’t be hard. All Ryan had to do was let out all his anger and frustrations over the past few days. Be as cold and cutting as possible, without revealing too much to Chicklet who’d been waiting with him for Laura, or White who was actually there for a reason.
He made it about the bike. Braxton would know exactly what he really meant. White would be fooled. Chicklet…unlikely, but she’d respect his privacy.
A good plan, but Braxton’s crushed expression was like a kick in the guts. Looking away from him took every bit of strength Ryan had, but he did it. All that mattered was giving Braxton back the power he’d so innocently handed over. Forcing him to harden his heart a little.
He’d need it as he tried to find a balance in his life between being who he really was, and who he had to pretend to be in front of the cameras.
Once Braxton and White were gone, Chicklet gave Ryan a level look that spoke volumes.
He shook his head. “None of your business.”
“Got it.”
Maybe she did, but that didn’t change what she hadn’t said.
He heard it loud and clear.
“You’re an asshole.”
His jaw clenched as he did his best to push Braxton out of his mind so he could focus on Laura. Who needed him more.
Not that it changed anything.
Chicklet was right.
Chapter 8
Another road trip and the timing was perfect. Braxton couldn’t keep avoiding everyone and everything because his emotions were a wreck and the game gave him something good to focus on.
Kinda…
The tension in the locker room had diminished now that the ‘Trouble Triplets’ were back and the asshole rookies were gone, but there was still this uncomfortable undertone that seemed to hover around the inner circle of the team. He hadn’t noticed it as much just seeing the guys at games and practice, but on the road it was hard to ignore.
Scott Demyan and his partner, Zachory Pearce, were being weird with one another and he couldn’t stand it. Zach was the first openly gay player on the team, out to the media and everything, and seeing things go well for him had given Braxton hope. Now?
All he could see was how messy things could get.
Things weren’t all bad though. Over the past few days, White had been spending more time with Braxton, which was freakin’ awesome. The man was tough and ruggedly handsome and fun to be around. As far as Braxton knew, White was straight, but the looks he gave his best friend, Shawn Pischlar, made him wonder sometimes.
White hadn’t been with Pisch much lately, instead giving Braxton pointers on the ice and even teaching him how to fight. Which was