"Do you remember Blair's dad getting a lot of them when he was on the Bedlam with you?"
"He and I only played together for a few years, but that guy got hit all the time throughout his career. He was a talented shot, so teams always tried to take him out. When you add in that he didn't wear a helmet, well..." Dad raised his brows, shook his head, and sighed, "I'm not surprised that he has all of the problems that he does. But it's still a shame."
Rod reached for the plate of eggs in the middle of the table. "So, what's the deal with you and Blair?"
Dylan sputtered his sip of coffee. "What are you talking about?"
He casually scooped his share onto his plate then passed it to Leo. "A lot of the guys saw you two kissing outside of the hotel the other night."
Mortification roiled the coffee in his gut. On a groan, Dylan closed his eyes. Entirely his fault for not ensuring they had privacy. When he opened them, Rod was grinning. And realization dawned. "Wait a minute. That was two days ago. You didn't think to text me later that night? Or at any point yesterday? Or during the flight home? Or earlier this morning?"
His younger brother shrugged. "I wasn't sure it was my business. You're always so private about her. But you were pretty public there, and she's texting you so I thought I'd ask."
"How many people know?"
"Celek, Kreider, Vince," Rod ticked the names off on his fingers, "Tanner, Sedlak, Dan, Mintner, Berglund, Laughton, Slater, and me. And Leo."
So, half the team. His gaze whipped to Leo. "You, too? And none of you mentioned it to me? That's unbelievable. None of you are that good at keeping things quiet."
Leo passed the eggs to Dylan. "We weren't sure if it was a one-time thing, so no one was going to say anything. And we didn't want to throw off your game performance last night. But does it matter who knows? It's not like the team doesn't allow it. No one in the organization cared when Kelsey and I were dating."
"Some of the fans cared, Leo," Rod reminded him. "I saw those messages Kelsey received. But once everyone liked you, then it was cool."
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck. Frustration settled as a knot between his shoulders. "I think Blair is concerned about how it could be perceived because she works directly with the players. Most private trainers have ethical rules that prevent them from becoming involved with a client."
Dad rose and started a fresh pot of coffee. "She's extremely good at her job, and she's been with the team for a while. She's proved how professional she is. I don't think she should worry. But if anyone has a problem, I'll talk to them. I still work for the team and I may be an older guy, but I can still make heads roll."
Rod nudged Dylan's arm. "So, are you seeing her again?"
"We're going hiking tomorrow in Chestnut Ridge Park. Getting away from hockey and everyone." He glared directly at Rod.
"What? What did I do?" No one did wide-eyed innocence like his brother.
He shook his head, torn between laughter and frustration. "I'm seriously contemplating getting my own place."
"Getting your own place?" Rod set his cup down with a thunk. "Why?"
"I was only half kidding, but seriously, I should do it. I know both of our names are on this house, but I'm happy to give it to you. I'm sure you and Arielle will want more privacy after you guys get married."
"The wedding isn't until the end of June. You can't change anything at all about our routine while we're still in the playoffs." Rod looked to their dad for affirmation and received a nod. "We still have to drive to practices and games together, like we've been doing all season. And sit next to each other on the plane, like we've been doing. There are still two more rounds to go. If you mess with something and ruin this playoff run, I'll haunt you forever."
"Superstitious much?" Even as he said it, Dylan stroked his own beard. He still hadn't shaved. As long as they were winning and advancing in the series, he wouldn't.
"Please." Rod rescued his beloved coffee. "You're the one who has to put on his equipment and skates in the exact same order every single time. Don't talk to me about superstitious."
"Says the man who needs to tap the goal posts in the same order, direction, and duration at the start of every game."
"I'm a goalie. We're supposed to be odd. On us, it's endearing."
"Boys." Laughing, Dad shook his head.
Dylan let Rod have the last piece of bacon. For as much as he grumbled, he really enjoyed living with Rod and Arielle. Sharing the house with Rod had made sense when they were both single and hadn't needed much space. And having them there had been a huge help during those awful weeks where he hadn't been able to play hockey. They'd kept him from falling too far into depression.
He thought about Blair. She'd gone above and beyond taking care of him when he'd had the concussions. While he'd received help from countless family and friends, she didn't seem to have a lot of help with her father. Why hadn't he realized before that she needed someone to help take care of her, too?
He wanted to do it, to be there for her however he could and as much as she would let him. He just wasn't sure how to go about it or how much she would let him in.
CHAPTER FIVE
SUNLIGHT SPARKLED IN a cloudless sky high above the forest. Blair adjusted her baseball cap and tightened her ponytail and accepted
