Friendzone Hockey (Heartbreak Hockey #4)

Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

THEN

Off Season One - End of July

Stacey

O nce I’ve seen them, I can’t unsee them. My mind goes to dark places. Someone else might mind their own business, but I’m not a minder of my own business, not when it’s the people I care about.

I wait till we’re alone and then I yank him to his feet, shoving the sleeve of his shirt up his arm.

“What the fuck is this, Dash?”

His arm’s lined with scratches deep enough they bled at some point. There are goddamn bite marks.

He shoves the sleeve right back down. “Chill, bro.”

“Don’t ‘chill bro’ me. Out with it, Dash, or I’m going straight to Travis.” Hockey season’s extra fucking exciting because this year, Dash is coming with me, but if he’s harming himself, he’s not going to training camp. Hell, I’ll check him into St. Paul’s Hospital myself.

“It’s the first time it’s happened. Pretty sure I did it in my sleep. I woke up like this,” he says.

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“Because I knew you and Dirk would go ballistic like you’re doing now.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I’m worried about me, too, but what can I do about what happens in my sleep?”

“Wear long sleeves to bed.” Or fucking mittens. I have visions of shoving oven mitts on his hands if need be.

“It’s been hot.”

The weather’s taken a turn, swathing us in a heatwave. It’s usually cold at night, but lately, it’s been hard to fall asleep because of the damn heat.

“I don’t care.”

He sighs. “Yeah, fine. I’ll sweat my ass off in the dark.”

That has my attention. “I thought you slept with the lights on?”

“Yeah, but I’m trying something.”

I squint, the cogs of my brain turning. “You don’t think the two are related?”

“Maybe…? Probably…? But I’ve got to do something, Stace. I can’t sleep with the lights on for the rest of my life. Humans aren’t supposed to sleep in the light and the bags under my eyes show it. I’m sure whatever this is, it’s just a phase.” He tilts his head, analyzing me. “I know that look. Don’t tell my dad. Please. He’ll go Defcon five on my ass. He’ll make me live with him again. He’ll never let me leave the apartment.”

“Would you be willing to try a nightlight?”

“The things they invented for five-year-olds?”

“They’re not just for five-year-olds. C’mon, we’ll go to the store right now.” I can’t stop seeing the marks. Thinking about him doing that to himself ties knots of tension up my spine.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.”

He smiles. It’s opposite to what I expected. I expected to get punched in the teeth.

“Is it weird that I like it when you’re kinda overprotective and maybe a tad overbearing?”

“I’m like that with everyone,” I say, and yeah, I’m being defensive. I don’t want him to get any ideas that I’m still crushing on him. I’m not. I’ve managed to shove those feelings away.

“I know you are, okay? Just saying I like it. Let’s get me a nightlight. You think they have one shaped like Shrek?”

W e don’t find one shaped like Shrek, but I find a pink unicorn nightlight and, when I show it to him, he smiles. That’s the one.

It’s battery powered and there’s a good home for it atop his dresser. We set it up together.

That night, I’m overly cognizant when he says he’s hitting the hay. My head twists away from the TV and our gaze meets. I didn’t mention his problem to Travis or Dirk. His expression begs me not to say anything with Casey, Dirk, and Jack—who’s staying over—in the room.

As far as I know, it’s only happened once and there’s probably not much that can be done about it anyway. Except maybe one thing. One of my large sweatshirts hangs over the arm of the couch.

“Remember when you said you were cold last night? Take my sweatshirt.” It’s a lie. He wasn’t cold. It’s a sauna in here around the clock because of the hot days.

I know he wants to roll his eyes at me. Instead, they smile. He takes the shirt.

On my way to bed, I check on him. He’s out cold, wrapped in my black sweatshirt. Buddy the unicorn’s watching over him from the dresser. My room’s the one next to his. If I listen carefully, I could probably hear his distress. I didn’t hear him the last time, but I must have been asleep.

I force my eyes open until I can’t keep them open, until sleep takes me away. But the next day, I go straight to his room. It’s ten am, he’s just waking up. “So? How was it?”

He pulls the sleeves back to show me his arms. “Nothing new. Buddy the unicorn did his job.”

“It’s only been one night.”

“Okay, Negative Nelly.”

Maybe I don’t have a lot of optimism when it has to do with protecting him. Sue me. “Keep the sweatshirt.”

He gives me the navy salute Captain Leslie—one of Jack’s dads—showed him. “Aye, Captain.”

“Don’t be a fucking brat.”

He waggles his brows. “Hard not to around you when you’re bein’ bossy. You pull it out of me, Alderchuck.”

I’m glad to see him coming out of his shell, though.

I’m on high alert for the next four nights, and knowing we have to leave for training camp’s got my stomach twisting. What will I do if things aren’t okay? Can I make him stay home? He’ll fight that. Him and his damn independence. Yeah, I want him to have it, but does he need to have it all at once?

Buddy the unicorn seems to do the trick for those four nights, but then it’s the fifth night and the fifth night is the one I’m thanking the stars for my paranoia. I hear him clear as day through the walls. I’m up, storming into the room like a white knight on speed.

He’s thrashing, mewling, clawing at his hair. “Dash. Dashie, wake up.” He doesn’t, and I freeze. Dash and I don’t touch often. Sure, I’ve hugged him a time or two, held him when he’s really needed it, but I’ve even touched Dirk more than I have him. Dirk’s shockingly cuddly, which you’d never expect from his prickly exterior. But with Dash, it’s as if we know what’ll happen. We already hover close, already make excuses to be near each other. Coming into contact, though?

Highly dangerous. Huge risk of combustion.

That’s the only reason I hesitate, otherwise I’d already be wrapped around him.

“Stace … Stacey! Help. ”

I spur into action. I rip the covers open and surround him, trapping his arms so he can’t do any damage. I hold him so fucking tight.

“Shhh. Dash. Dashie? I’m here. It’s me. You’re safe.”

I murmur a stream of comfort into his ear. He’s still trapped in a nightmare but, dammit, he called for me, and I’m gonna save him from it. Just gotta figure out how to reach inside his head.

His eyes flutter open, and he blinks, trying to figure out what the fuck’s going on. It’s a moment of cold terror. Did I do the right thing? Have I invaded his space? Crossed a line? Destroyed our budding friendship?

Tears glisten in the moonlight as they travel down his cheeks. “You came,” he whispers.

“I will always fucking come.”

He nods, tugging his arms free to encircle me with them, holding on for dear life. “Please stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Close your eyes.” I kiss the top of his head.

I wake up before him, and since the bright sunlight’s poking through the billowy curtains, I feel comfortable enough to leave him so I can get started on breakfast for the crew. With how late we rise in the off-season, you’d never know we’re hockey players, but that’s what working in the restaurant industry does to you—makes you a night owl.

No one’s up yet, but Dash’s careful feet pluck their way to a barstool at the kitchen island by the time I’ve got coffee started. His bright smile tells me everything I need to know about last night. Any reservations I might have had wiped away like rain on a car windshield.

“Thank you for last night. I, um … what we did was okay, right?”

The truth is, I’m not sure, but I know I don’t want him feeling bad about getting the comfort he needs. Not when faced with the alternative.

“It’s okay with me, but if you’re uncomfortable about?—”

“No!” he says. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m comfortable it’s just … what will everyone else think?”

“Don’t care what others think, Dashie, so long as you’re taken care of.”

“Oh.” He exhales a breath that seems to release the worry out of him. He sits up taller, competing with the sunshine for brilliance. Although, there’s no contest. He wins every time. “Can I help?”

“Wanna start the bacon?”

Dash brushes by me on the way to retrieve the bacon from the fridge. A whole-ass shiver goes through me.

I was too focused on him last night, so it only dawns on me now, we touched and the world didn’t end. I held him against my semi-naked body—I was only wearing pajama pants—and I didn’t suddenly want to jump his bones.

But then there are times like now when it feels like my fucking body’s conspiring against me.

No. If last night was a sign of anything it’s that we can do this—we can be friends and we can touch. I bet the more we do it, the better it’ll be. A desensitization sort of thing. Yeah. This is good. Real good. Best news since I found out I was playing for the Wildcats.

I t’s midnight, and I’m in my bed reading, not planning on trying to sleep until the rest of the crew is home. They eventually crash into the front door, their boisterous voices carrying down the hallway. It was me and Jack who worked the lunch shift from the five of us. Jack went home for once.

The noise dies down, aside from some small sounds I hear next door from Dash’s room. Then nothing for two hours. I’m the one who can’t fall asleep now. He was fine for a few nights until he wasn’t. I want to make sure before I let myself close my eyes.

The knock on the door is so quiet I think I imagined it, but I jump all the same.

“Come in.”

It’s Dash and Buddy. He places the unicorn on top of my dresser. “Um, mind if we sleep in here? I can’t fall asleep.”

He’s wearing my hoodie again, lost in it. What would he look like in my jersey with a great big Alderchuck plastered on the back of it?

No. Nope. Not going there.

I open the covers and he dives in. Buddy glows pink in the distance and I wrap my body around him. He snuggles into me. We sigh in sync. His hands find my larger ones and the skin-on-skin contact ignites that bubbly-pop in my chest. I focus on breathing to distract me from it, but there’s nothing in the world that can distract me from his unique scent. It’s sweet with the underlying whiff of man.

Dear god, if there is one, please don’t let blood go to my dick right now.

It takes me thinking the worst things—reminding myself of what he’s told me about him and Robin so far—to stop it happening. I know that’s shitty, but those things make my heart break and my heart breaking is about the only thing stopping my dick from hardening between his perfect ass cheeks.

Dammit, Dashie, I don’t know if I’m gonna survive you.

My cock’s up before I am the next morning. Every guy gets morning wood, it’s easy enough to explain away, but the immediate hit of his scent and the bubbles in my fucking chest get me. Make me need him. I’ve gotta relieve myself or the rest of the day with him’s gonna be painful. I’ve also got to find a way to stop the unwanted boners if he’s gonna be crawling into my bed.

Sliding from the sheets, I pad barefoot to the shower. One hand bracing the wall, and a soapy hand stroking my cock, I moan out a fast orgasm. My toes curl, my nuts squeeze. Thank fuck I’m someone who can come from physical stimulation alone. I leave Dash way out of my thoughts. No way will I condition my dick to need him. It already likes him way too much.

My head cleared—both of them—I’m ready to start making a late breakfast for the crew, but Casey and Dirk beat me to it.

“You want two eggs or three, bro?” Casey asks.

“Three.”

Dirk places a coffee mug down in front of me, studying me. But I guess he’s gotten to know something about me because they’re not angry eyes, just concerned ones. That means the cat’s out of the bag, and if I don’t say something they’re gonna get the wrong impression.

“Yeah, I let Dash sleep in my bed last night. He’s been having nightmares.”

“Fuck. Why didn’t he tell me? He coulda slept with me,” Dirk says.

“I forced it out of him. He tried to hide it from all of us because he knew we’d go Defcon Five on him.”

Dirk huffs. “He wasn’t wrong.”

I get an idea. “I think he should sleep with you some nights, though. Casey, too.”

“Hey, you know I’m always game for sleepovers,” Casey says. It’s part of why Jack stays over so much aside from their bestie status. Casey doesn’t like being alone since Mom died. He says that’s when the sad kicks in. The less he’s alone, the less he stews in sad.

Dash makes his way into the kitchen, yawning, his messy hair flopping all over the place. He smiles in my direction. He’s wearing my hoodie, but he finds his way to Dirk’s open arms. Dirk kisses the top of his head.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight, bro,” Dirk says.

“You fucking told him, Alderchuck,” Dash mumbles against Dirk’s skin, but he doesn’t sound mad.

I wanna steal him back from Dirk. He should be in my arms, not all the way over there in another man’s arms.

“I saw you slipping into Stacey’s room in the middle of the night. I had questions,” Dirk’s husky voice says.

It’s the first time he’s had my back about something. I guess he approves if he didn’t stop him last night. I get up to fish a hair elastic out of the drawer and tie my hair back.

Casey’s adding cheese to toast. “What’s that smell?” he says.

“Shit, bacon’s burning,” Dirk screeches.

He lets go of Dash, and I seize the fucking day, gripping his wrist, snapping him to my body. It’s natural, the way his arms fall around me as I lean against the counter and run my fingers through his hair. He wants comfort today, and he won’t be deprived of it just because of some misplaced feelings I have.

If Dirk’s his friend and he can do this, then so can I, right?