Across the Line by Kate Willoughby

Author:Kate Willoughby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

By the time training camp rolled around in September, Calder was in better shape than he’d been before the injury. The physicals on the first day proved it. Damn, it felt great to be back. His team greeted him warmly—lots of pats on the back, gruff words, nods and helmet butts. The coaching and training staff seemed pleased with the work he’d done over the summer. He felt strong and ready. Even Hart’s presence didn’t throw him. The media cornered him and he gave one or two interviews. He tried to keep focused on his own play and what he felt he could bring to the team now that he was back. If the reporter asked about Hart or how Calder felt about Hart, he gave a PC answer he’d prepared ahead of time.

“Hart’s a great player. His record proves that. He can only be an asset to us and I think together we can make a solid run for the Cup this season.”

All that was the truth. What he didn’t mention was how his gut churned when he thought about playing second fiddle to his big brother every night. How he beat himself up over the resentment that bubbled up whenever he saw some of his friends joking around with Hart, welcoming and including him in the group. Locke threw a party—rented a big-ass boat and took the team fishing, then brought them all back to his place to cook the catch. Calder had hinted around that he might skip it and fly east to see Becca, but Locke pulled him aside.

“Look, I know you have it tough right now. Your woman is in New York and you’re here, but summer’s over. You need to make the team your priority. Guys’ll notice if you don’t come, and with you being out for so long...”

Calder held up a hand. “Okay, okay. I got the message. I’ll be there.”

And of course, Hart had caught the biggest fucking fish. The guy still had the Midas touch. Calder plastered a smile on his face and congratulated him while tamping down his feelings of jealousy. He couldn’t help but think how much more fun the boat trip would’ve been if Hart hadn’t been there making him feel like a bench warmer on his own team. Considering the season hadn’t even started yet, Calder wondered if he should find a sports psychologist. Were his feelings of inadequacy and the rivalry with his brother going to affect his game? He fucking hoped not.

He also kept finding himself watching his brother for signs of gayness. Admiring glances when a teammate took his shirt off. Lingering touches. Shit like that.

Didn’t happen.

Of course.

He hadn’t noticed anything weird in the dressing room either. Or the showers. No wayward, unexplainable erections. No covert glances at other guys’ junk. In fact, Calder himself was the one doing the watching in the shower and when he realized it, he shook himself hard, like a dog drying off, and got the hell out, hoping no one noticed.

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