Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(92)

“So . . .” Posey says as he comes up to me in the training room where I’m warming up my legs and rolling them out on a foam roller.

“So what?” I ask, grumpy as shit.

Why am I grumpy? Because yesterday, I had my cock sucked so hard I’m pretty sure I don’t even remember my whole name. I realized that even though I want to control myself around Ollie, I can’t seem to keep my distance. I’m scared. I’m unsure. And the one person I want to talk to is the person I’m terrified of.

Not to mention, I haven’t heard from her since she left the sauna.

Not one goddamn word.

“How did yesterday end?”

“I’m not talking about this,” I say.

Posey startles me as he sits next to me and leans in so close that I can smell his freshly applied deodorant. “It ended well, didn’t it?”

“No.” I push at him, but he remains unmoved.

“Liar.” He smiles. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’ve had sex.” He pokes my cheek, and I swat his hand away. “You had sex.”

“Can you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“It was my texting, wasn’t it?” He puffs his chest and cracks his fingers. “I’ve still got it.”

“I didn’t have sex,” I say quietly and then whisper, “She just . . . sucked me in the sauna.”

“Sucked you in the sauna.” Posey shakes his head in mirth. “That is a title of a porn waiting to happen. Was it good?”

“Of course it was fucking good,” I say. “I’m obsessed with the girl and everything about her.”

“So why so grumpy?”

“Because I haven’t talked to her since. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m fucking terrified, and—”

“There you boys are,” Sarah says as she walks through the doors of the training room. “I have a few things for you to sign that we’re giving to important sponsors. You’re the two I’m missing.”

Of course she takes this moment to walk in here. This is the luck of my goddamn life. Teeth clenched, I avoid the low cut of her shirt and how she’s purposely bending in front of me.

But the thing is . . . her appearance, her need to show off her tits, it does nothing for me. Absolutely nothing. The only emotion I feel when she’s in the same room as me is anger.

Because of her, I don’t trust people.

Because of her, I can’t be the person I need to be for Ollie.

Which, in return, makes me despise her.

She hands me the pictures and a Sharpie, and while offering her the cold shoulder, I sign them.

“You were great the other night,” she says, clearly not getting the hint. “I loved seeing you out on the ice again.”

I cap the marker and toss it to Posey, who signs the pictures as well.

“Are you not going to say anything about my shirt?” she asks, and when I look up, I see that she’s wearing a shirt with my name and number.

“Why are you wearing that?” I ask.

A confused expression crosses her face. “Because I’m your number one fan.”

It’s comical how clueless she is.

“If you were my number one fan, you wouldn’t have fucked other people when I was away. For months.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.

It’s the first time I’ve truly acknowledged what she did to me.

And I know it’s the first time Posey is hearing it.

“Silas,” she says quietly.

I take the pictures from Posey and shove them at her. “They’re signed. Now leave.”

To her credit, she backs away slowly and then turns around to leave. Instead of my eyes falling to her retreating ass like they used to when we were dating, I go back to my foam roller, feeling Posey’s eyes on me.

“Don’t, man,” I say, swallowing hard.

“I won’t,” he replies, understanding completely.

“And please . . . please don’t say anything to anyone.”

He grips my shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me, man. Promise.”





Second game done. We brought home the win, and luckily, despite my personal life, I was able to forget it all when I was out on the ice. Scored a goal and had an assist. I’ve been known to bring my personal grievances into a game, but I just felt numb this go-around.

So fucking numb.

Like nothing from the outside world could penetrate me. Nothing.

Not Sarah.

Not Ollie.

Nothing.

But now that I’m driving home, all I can think about is how I want to see Ollie. How I want to talk to her about . . . everything. I want to know where her head is at. And I know I won’t be able to get any sleep if I don’t talk to her.

I drive over to her dorm, and instead of going up to her place, I park my car and grab my phone to shoot her a text.

Silas: Hey, I’m outside your place.

I let out a long sigh as I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering how the fuck I got here.

The plan I laid out for myself two years ago didn’t have me sitting in a college dorm parking lot, pining after a girl I know I shouldn’t while dodging my ex. My plan was to marry Sarah. To have kids. To buy a house and win some more goddamn championships. But for the past two years, it’s felt as though nothing fits. As though I’ve been drifting. Yes, I know Sarah’s infidelity has played a large part of that, but I should be fucking over it by now. And I am. Over Sarah. Even though I still feel angry. Does that ever go away? But now with Ollie in my life, it feels as though I’m almost grasping something really good, yet things are also falling apart, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just don’t understand it.