*Review copy provided by the author. All opinions expressed are my own.
A new male / male hockey romance from 24-time USA Today bestseller Sarina Bowen!
My name is Hudson Newgate, but my teammates call me New Guy.
That was my nickname in Chicago, too. And Vancouver. That’s what happens when you keep getting traded. Brooklyn is my last chance, especially after my poor performance last season.
But I can make this work. The new guy knows to keep his head down and shoot the puck. The new guy puts the game first.
What he doesn’t do is hook up with the other new guy—a hot athletic trainer who lives in my building. Gavin needs this job with my team. He’s a single dad with responsibilities.
We can’t be a couple. My arrogant agent–who’s also my father–will lose his mind if I’m dating a dude. And my team needs me to score goals, not whip up a media circus.
Too bad Gavin and I are terrible at resisting each other…
I’m stretching my quads when I hear the head trainer’s voice out in the corridor. “The men’s weight room is about half capacity today. Some guys want to get in a quick workout, some go right home and take a pregame nap.”
He’s giving someone a tour of the facility. And suddenly I’m on high alert, like there’s a noticeable change in the air pressure.
Two men walk through the door, and my heart practically explodes.
Oh no. Oh hell. It’s him. Gavin from the bar. Gavin with the clear gray eyes, and the quick smile. In a Brooklyn polo, with an employee ID clipped to his khakis. That’s the uniform for athletic trainers. There’s a clipboard hugged under one muscled arm, and I can see my own name on it.
This is bad. He’s going to work with the team?
It takes me about zero-point-five seconds to picture him kneeling down on this very mat and lifting my leg in his hands to pin it back against my chest, while I gaze up at his dark blond hair, and those green eyes…
“Fellas, listen up!” Henry says, clapping his hands together. “I’d like to introduce you to Gavin Gillis. He joins the training staff today as my right-hand man.”
The players all turn to listen, and O’Doul leans down and turns the Bluetooth speaker off.
The sudden silence is deep.
“Gavin joins us as senior training staff. He’s never worked in hockey before, but that doesn’t matter. His last full-time position was at UNH, where he worked with the men’s soccer team, as well as with the women’s tennis team…”
I lose the thread of what Henry is saying, because I’m still staring at Gavin. He stands tall at Henry’s side. He’s wearing the half-smile of someone who’s being forced to hear praise about himself and doesn’t quite know how to play it. As I watch, he makes eye contact with each player in the room, one at a time.
He gets to me last, though, because I’m on the floor, in the corner. When his eyes find me, he does a quick double take. His surprise is muted, though. On his second pass, he looks directly at me and does the world’s quickest nod.
I forget to breathe, and my vision tunnels.
This can’t be happening. He’s a trainer? He’ll be here every day. We have to work together?
This is bad.
So, so bad.