Page 22 of Pressure Point

“Just gotta go. Love ya!”

Ending the call, she tossed her phone onto her desk. She cleared her throat as quietly as she could, standing up to greet her boss, hoping that he didn’t notice the heat that was taking over her face or just how flustered she was. Of all the people to have heard her say that she’d never given anyone a blow job, it had to the team’s technical director? Great, just great.

“Mr. Callahan, hi.”

“Please, Mr. Callahan is my dad. It’s Cowboy.” Despite his knowing grin, his face was kind looking, his eyes focused directly on hers. Her heart was pounding against her chest, praying that his next words weren’t something that would make her trip up even more.

“Err, okay,” she replied, feeling uncomfortable at the idea of being so informal with the former US National team player. “What can I help you with?”

“Jarrett is still favoring that ankle he rolled during the game the other night, and I want to see if there is a program we can put him on to strengthen it. He claims it’s fine, but I want to make sure.”

“Absolutely! I can start on it today during their recovery session.”

“Thanks, Avery!” he replied, turning to leave.

“Umm, Cowboy?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning back to her.

“Is…none of the guys on the team are gay, are they?” she asked, regretting it the second it came out of her mouth. He already must think she was a loser after what he’d heard, and now he was going to think she was a bigot.

“Not something I’ve ever asked them. Is that something that makes you uncomfortable? Because we’re an accepting organization. That kind of thing doesn’t matter to us.”

“No, no. I don’t care. I just…I was asking because…” she stumbled. Stopping herself, she took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. Can we just pretend I never asked?”

“Sure,” he laughed. “But if it’s about what you told whomever you were talking to, there are better instructions on YouTube than you’d probably get out of these guys. Just sayin’.” Giving her a wink, he turned and walked out of the medical center.

She let out a sigh, collapsing back into her chair, wishing she could crawl under her desk and hide for the rest of the day. If she’d had any doubt before that she needed Liam’s help on how to interact with Dash, that conversation squashed it. Whatever she needed to do to not be such a weirdo, she was willing.

Turning to look out the window once again, she watched Gunnar blow his whistle to signal the end of practice. The team would be heading inside soon, and she knew she needed to get up and head out to the sports med rooms to greet them and get their individual protocols going. She just had to find a way to not let her mortification still be written all over her face. Another glimpse of Dash wouldn’t hurt either.

Dash was nowhere to be found though. Instead, front and center in her line of sight was Liam. Built like a tank, he was exactly what every team dreamed to have guarding their net. He was also just as accepting of her quirks as her best friend, which only furthered her curiosity into whether or not she’d gotten him all wrong. She’d thought he was just being a good friend. No, she knew he was. The question now was whether that was because he wouldn’t find her attractive even if she looked like Shakira.

Chapter Eight

Dash sauntered into the hotel bar, reminding Liam of John Travolta in Grease for all the confidence he had oozing out of him. He was dressed in jeans and a fitted black dress shirt that he’d left untucked, looking like he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ. Liam had no idea how Dash pulled it off, but no matter what the guy was doing, he looked like a rock star. No wonder Avery was so into him.

“Padre, are you sure you don’t want to join us? It’s just a couple of drinks,” Dash asked, leaning against the bar next to him. One of the players for Seattle was an old college teammate of Chance’s and had told him about this new place that had just opened up. It was all they’d been able to talk about on the flight up, and it seemed like half the team was headed there tonight. “There is the promise of a lot of hot women there.”

“No, I’m knackered,” he told him. It was partially true, he was tired. He was also looking forward to movie night way more than the idea of some club. He just wanted to get his food, then head back up to the room to relax.

Seattle had hammered him all evening, one shot after another. Where the defense had been he’d no idea—something he and Michaels had exchanged some words about at halftime. They’d been better the second half, but still had given up possession way too often. If it hadn’t been for a lucky shot by Tiago in the 89th minute, they would have only barely eked out of there with a draw. Liam knew that Gunnar’s silent treatment in the locker room after the game meant they were in for it come practice on Monday.

But that was a problem for Monday. Right now Liam’s mind was much more concerned with seating arrangements. Thinking about the room he shared with Dash, he realized that when he suggested to Avery on the flight that they watch the next Marvel movie after the game, he hadn’t really considered the layout of the hotel room or its lack of seating options.

Like all of the rooms they stayed in, this one had two queen beds, one for each guy, and a desk built into the wall with a very uncomfortable looking rolling chair pushed underneath it. Unlike many of the rooms they’d been in previously, this one did not have a couch or even an armchair. So now, Liam was faced with trying to figure out where they were going to sit.

He knew what he wanted to happen. He wanted for the both of them to curl up on his bed, for Avery to snuggle against him and spend the two and a half hours of movie time wrapped up in his arms. But he also realized that was not going to happen and that inviting her into bed with him, no matter how platonic the invite, was probably more than a little inappropriate. There was always Dash’s bed that she could hang out on, and truth be told she’d probably like that idea, but the thought of it made him sick.

“Lads,” Gunnar said, sliding into the chair on the other side of Liam. His face was still sour-looking, and Liam could commiserate. It hadn’t been their best game. This job meant a lot to Gunnar, and he had even more to prove now that he was dating the team owner.

“Coach, tell Liam he should come out tonight to celebrate,” Dash said.

“I’m not sure what you think you’re celebrating, Dash. You missed three shots on goal this evening.”

Dash just shrugged, his own smile never wavering. “A win is a win, coach.”

Liam rolled his eyes, knowing that this was only earning his buddy extra sprints on Monday. But he wasn’t going to let him know that. Dash would just have to learn on his own.