Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

22. Crew

Chapter 22

Crew

T he one thing that made it possible to sleep last night was that I knew Grady wouldn’t tell Olivia about our night together, because it would mean outing himself and Grady swears he never wants anyone to know his sexual preferences. I texted him twice last night but he never got back to me. In the last text, I told him I would swing by his hotel before practice so here I am, walking through the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire.

I don’t have his room number and I don’t feel like dealing with the front desk so I text him again and tell him I’m downstairs and then park my ass in one of the fancy chairs facing the bank of elevators and wait. It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes until the elevator on the left opens and Grady Garrison saunters out.

I stand up and cross the travertine marble floor. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Hey. I’m grabbing some breakfast before I head to practice. You wanna join?”

I nod. “Sure. I ate but I can grab a coffee.”

Grady nods and I follow him back across the lobby to the entrance to their restaurant called Boulevard. The hostess smiles brightly and seats us at a table next to the windows facing Rodeo Drive. The waiter takes our order, a black coffee for me and an egg white cheddar and ham omelet for Grady with a chai latte.

“What is with your family and chai?” I ask. “Olivia had me try it and it tastes like the inside of a bag full of grass clippings.”

Grady laughs soundlessly at that. “Anything is better than black coffee dude.”

I shake my head. “Agree to disagree.”

“On hot beverages, sure. Are you here to ask me to do that on the subject of you dating my family members?” Grady asks, his red eyebrows pinched.

“I know it seems weird,” I admit and my fingers play with the edge of the fancy woven napkin, but my eyes stay on him. I want him to know I’m sincere about this. “And this will probably make me sound like an asshole, but I didn’t even realize you two were related at first.”

“Me and Liv? Or me and my one and only sister Shelby?” His eyes are narrowing by the second. I am doing a shit job at this. For the first time in my life, I wish I was Nash. He is so much better at communicating.

"I am not interested in your sister. Never was. She's lovely though. Seems great," I say cautiously. "But I was already involved with Olivia when I met Shelby and honestly, I haven't thought of anyone since I met Olivia," I confess and flash him a quick smile. "She caught me by surprise. And of course, when I realized she was your cousin I panicked, but I knew I couldn't tell her."

“No. You can’t. Please.” Panic is darkening his eyes now. “I have no intentions of ever telling anyone, in my family or otherwise, and I don’t want you to out me.”

“I would never, Grady. I promise.” God, I can’t imagine doing something so cruel.

He looks out the window. “Is it going to make things harder for you and Liv?”

“No. I mean I don’t think it’s mandatory that you list the name and social security number of every person you’ve ever been with to your new girlfriend, is it?” I ask, trying to be light and slightly jovial because the situation could use a little levity. “I’m not exactly an expert on this because I’ve had exactly one serious girlfriend, who I married and almost ruined my life over.”

Grady shoots me a sympathetic glance. "So in a way, you are almost as new at relationships as Liv is at sex."

“Umm… yeah, that’s one way to look at it and the only thing weirder than you knowing I’m with your cousin is you talking about her sex life,” I confess, and he smiles.

“I’m just saying I know my cousin,” Grady says and pauses as the waiter drops off our order. Grady thanks him and reaches for the pepper on the table as he continues. “I adore her and to be honest, I’m happy she’s found someone who makes her beam. She was literally beaming all night after she left you. She’s happy. You look happy too.”

I nod and stir a packet of stevia into my coffee. “I like her, Grady. Truly.”

He nods.

"Is that weird? Did you think… you and I…" I let the sentence trail for two reasons—we're in public and also it's an egotistical assumption, that he still wants me, and I hate sounding egotistical.

He shakes his head. “It was good. I would have done it again. But like… no offense, it doesn’t hurt me that it won’t happen again, or even that you’re romantically interested in my cousin. I wasn’t looking for that from you.”

“Okay good.” I smile at him. He smiles back.

“So I guess this is the part where I threaten to end you if you hurt her in any way,” Grady says, taking a bite of his omelet and chewing it. When he swallows, he points his fork at me for a second. “There. Done. Consider yourself threatened.”

“I’ve been warned. I will take it seriously,” I promise.

I sip my coffee, and he chews another bite of omelet. "Does she know about your proclivity for… shooting right and left?”

A hockey analogy. That’s a new one.

I shake my head. “Not yet, but I will tell her.”

“Okay.”

Our conversation moves to the team, and how he feels about being traded, which is good but he also feels pressure because of our previous Cup win and trying to repeat it being the Quake's main focus for the year. I offer to give him a ride to practice since he doesn't have his car here yet and he accepts. As we drive down Wilshire, I finally find the guts to ask him a question that has been eating away at me.

“Grady, do you think she’ll care?”

“That you’re bi?” he asks freely because we’re alone in my car. I glance at him and nod. “Nope. My whole family is very progressive and pro-LGBTQIA. She might have questions but they’ll be curiosity-based, not judgement-based. Livvy is a bit of a Bambi when it comes to sex but she is definitely not a bigot.”

I don’t ask him why he won’t tell them who is he if they’re all so progressive but the question is at the front of my mind. When we get to the arena everything that could have been awkward about this is a distant memory. Grady is relaxed, joking, friendly. “Thanks, man.”

“Honestly no worries. I’m happy for her and you,” he says, and I feel he genuinely means it. Then he points down the hall where Tate is waiting at the elevator that takes us from player parking to the bowels of the facility. “I’m actually more happy for Livvy because she doesn’t have to deal with him, with knives on his feet, after he finds out. I heard about the Quake code.”

Right. Tate. The code.

We're so close now Tate hears us and turns. He smiles, and I drink it in because it may be the last one I see directed at me in a while. "Hey! My cousin and my bestie. I like how this year is shaping up."

He lifts his fist to tap mine, the Grady’s. “How’s Hendrix taking this?” Grady questions as we all get into the elevator and Tate punches the right button.

“He’s bummed, but he gets it,” Tate says. “He’s happy he’s still in the league, and there are worse teams to be traded to than Seattle. What did he say to you, Westy?”

“I…” I swallow. Fuck. “I haven’t talked to him yet.”

“He left last night for Seattle,” Tate says, and he is full-on judging me for not reaching out. A team captain would always reach out to say goodbye to a traded player. I’m sure Nash did. I fucked up.

“I can still reach out,” I argue. “I had a lot going on in the last twenty-four hours, but I’ll talk to him soon. Right after practice.”

Tate nods, but he still has that look in his eye that reminds me I fucked up.

“So…” Grady says as the elevator settles and the doors start to glide open. “Crew is dating Liv.”

He steps out of the elevator and misses me glaring, wide-eyed at his back. Tate laughs and steps out after his cousin. “Who is Liv?”

“Our cousin.”

Tate’s smile trembles and then his eyes find mine and then move back to Grady who waves. “Off to meet the goalie coach.”

Tate turns to me. “You don’t date.”

“I didn’t for a while.” I shrug my shoulders. “But I changed my mind.”

“Liv? My cousin?”

“Yeah. That Liv.” I swallow. “And I just want you to know that I didn’t knowingly break the code. The first time I met her I didn’t know she was your relative. And honestly, we said siblings when we made up that code.”

He folds his arms over his chest and I can see his jaw flex. He’s processing but he is also pissed. I get it. “When did you meet her?”

“In Vegas.”

And as our eyes lock we both think of the very same memory from that trip. Me, in a woman’s hoodie. On his floor. His light eyes darken and he shakes his head slowly. “No. No. You did not.”

“I didn’t know who she was,” I remind him.

“Fucking hell, Crew!” He balls his hands into fists at his side and swears again under his breath.

"We're dating. Like full-on, dude. It isn't a one-night stand. I mean I think we both thought it would be that, but it isn't," I confess and he looks angrier at that. "I like her. I respect her. I'm not going to hurt her."

"Did she tell you?" I blink and wait for him to elaborate. When he just stares at me imploringly I have to shrug. He swears again. "Well, I can't fucking be the one to tell you."

“Tell me what?” I don’t like the cold knot tightening in my chest.

“I’m more protective of Liv than I am of Tenley or anyone else in the family, but there is a reason for that,” Tate explains, stepping closer to me and pointing. “You need to be careful here. For your own sake because I know you’ve been burned before.”

“Scorched,” I correct. “Like the earth in the Bible.”

“If you two aren’t honest with each other then it will happen again, and she’s not telling you something,” Tate says quietly. “And I’m actually more worried about you than her at this moment in time.”

“Wh… What?” This was not how I thought this conversation would go at all.

"Boys! Let's move. Coach wants us suited up and on the ice in fifteen!" Nash's voice fills the hallway and without another word, Tate stalks off toward the dressing room.

I’m left with nothing but an ominous feeling in my gut.