That Time We Faked It (Time On The Ice #3)

22. CAL

CAL

Thou shall not be dick-drunk

I t felt like a dream—a slightly drunken one I could easily blame on champagne refills. But there he was, Wade Rossler, tall, dark, and disturbingly handsome, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before, and God… it was doing absolutely nothing for my love-detox-slash-recovery. The moment his lips left mine, I could feel that little part of my brain—the one that craved connection, of the physical variety—light up, and all I wanted was more. More of his mouth, his hands, his touch. I wanted to feel what it would be like to let him have me in the way only he could—commanding, biting, possessing.

But I knew if I went there, I’d get totally, thoroughly, dick-drunk —and from there, it was a very short slide into thinking I was in love. I had to squash the urge, and fast.

Wade’s arm was still around me as he pulled me back into a shadowed alcove, his eyes flicking over my face with a look that made my pulse stutter.

Clearly, he wasn’t ready to end our little performance.

"No one’s looking, Wade,” I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster, patting his chest with a casual smile.

“We don’t have to keep up the show.” Before he could say anything, I straightened and glanced out at the crowd. The speeches would be soon, and I needed to clear my head before my pulse gave everything away.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s set for the speeches. Be right back.”

I ducked into the back hallway, letting the murmurs and laughter of the party fade behind me as I leaned against the cool wooden wall, sucking in a sharp breath. My pulse was still racing, each beat echoing the kiss I’d just shared with Wade. Wade, of all people. What the hell had I been thinking?

"Stupid, stupid Cal," I muttered under my breath, raking a hand through my hair. "What did I think would happen? Oh sure, just kiss the man who has my heart doing its own quadruple twist since meeting him. Idiot."

My voice sounded small in the empty space, swallowed by the hum of the party just beyond the door.

I paced the narrow corridor, my footsteps soft against the worn floorboards. Kissing Wade had felt like leaping off a cliff, thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. And standing there, replaying the moment over and over, I could feel myself careening toward the inevitable crash.

What was I doing? It was supposed to be fake—a role to play, a story to sell to his family. And yet, every time I looked at him, every time he smiled at me like I was the only person in the room, my resolve slipped a little more. My heart was too loud, too reckless, and I couldn’t afford to let it take the lead. Not with someone like Wade, someone who could see through all my polished edges and straight into the parts of me I tried so hard to keep hidden.

I shook my head, muttering again.

"Get it together, Cal. You’re in way too deep."

But even as I told myself to stop, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his hands had held me like I was something precious. And I knew, with a sinking kind of clarity, that I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop. Not anymore.

The sound of footsteps in the distance pulled me back to reality, and I straightened, taking another deep breath as I forced myself to focus. I wasn’t here for Wade—or at least, I wasn’t supposed to be. I smoothed my shirt, adjusted my blazer, and plastered on the most convincing smile I could muster before stepping back toward the noise, the lights, and the man I knew I couldn’t let myself fall for.

I circled around to the DJ, who handed me the microphone with a knowing nod.

"Well, hello, hello, beautiful friends and family of Wylie and Benny!” I greeted, flashing a wide smile at the crowd. “I promise I’ll keep this brief. I haven’t known this wonderful couple for very long—courtesy of my boyfriend here—but in the time I’ve spent helping plan their wedding, I honestly couldn’t think of any two people more perfect for each other.” I cast a glance at Wade, playfully apologizing. “Sorry, Wade.” Chuckles rippled through the guests, and I continued, feeling the warmth in the room surrounding me.

“Though I wasn’t there to witness all the hurdles these two have overcome, everyone here who’s been with them through it all knows they did it with grace. And it’s no surprise we’re here today, all of us, with so much joy to celebrate them finally tying the knot. So, with that, I’ll hand the mic over to the beautiful couple who’d like to say a few words.”

Wylie stepped forward, grinning, and took the mic from me with a quick kiss on the cheek. His ease—like that of Wade’s other family members—had that familiar warmth that made my chest feel too full and, oddly, a bit hollow at the same time. It was all so easy, this affection and acceptance.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here,” Wylie began, and as he and Benny launched into their heartfelt speeches, there wasn’t a dry eye in sight. Including mine. I stayed by the computer, ready for the parents’ final words, until Mrs. Rossler handed me the microphone again. I wiped the tear tracks from my face, only for the sniffle to echo through the speakers, causing a wave of laughter.

“Well, that was sweet but totally rude,” I joked, swiping at my still-damp cheeks. “You completely wrecked my makeup.” The crowd laughed again. “You’ve probably heard enough of my voice tonight, so I’ll be quick. There’s a little video I put together with some help from Mrs. Rossler to capture all the love between these two. Feel free to watch while the food comes around.”

The hum of conversation softened as the video began to play, casting a golden glow across the room. The flicker of smiles and a few soft chuckles filled the air as everyone leaned in to watch, the atmosphere warm and expectant. I exhaled a long, steady breath, the kind that felt like I’d been holding onto it for far too long.

Just as I let the tension ease, a warm hand slipped over mine.

I turned, startled, and met Wade’s eyes—intense, unwavering, and holding something that made my pulse stumble. The heat in his gaze was almost too much.

"I owe you so much for all this," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, rich timbre that sent a ripple of warmth through me. My instinct was to shake my head, to brush off his words like I always did. But before I could, his fingers caught my chin, tilting my face toward him, grounding me in that ice-blue gaze.

“I do, pretty boy,” he repeated, his voice softer this time, but no less firm.

There was something rare in it, something unguarded, and it stole the air from my lungs. “You really are something, you know that?”

I tried to respond, to deflect, but my throat had gone dry. His eyes never left mine as he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a touch so light, so achingly brief, it felt like a spark that never fully caught fire.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and before I could process it, his fingers laced through mine, his grip steady and reassuring as he led me through the tables to join his family.

Dinner was a feast, the kind of spread that felt indulgent just to look at. Rich, vibrant dishes that demanded to be savored. After weeks of meticulous planning, I couldn’t help but indulge, calories be damned. Wade’s family filled the space with laughter and chatter, their warmth infectious, pulling me in until I found myself leaning back, letting it all wash over me.

Wade’s hand rested on my thigh, solid and grounding, his touch so natural it felt like it had always been there. I didn’t move it, didn’t want to break the spell. Around us, his family’s glances carried a fondness that made my chest ache, like they’d already decided I belonged.

The attention shifted then, all eyes landing on me as Elena—Mrs. Rossler, though she’d insisted I call her by her first name—leaned forward with an amused, knowing smile.

“Cal,” she said, her voice lilting with warmth, “I feel like you’ve been too busy playing fairy godmother for us to get a chance to chat!”

Her words were playful, but her gaze carried a curiosity that left me scrambling for the right response. The room quieted just enough, waiting for what I’d say next. Wade’s hand tightened on my thigh, a small, silent reassurance that steadied me as I gave Elena my full attention, feeling both seen and, strangely, at ease.

The night hummed around me, laughter and music blending into a warm, festive atmosphere. Every piece of this evening had gone exactly as I planned: perfectly timed, seamlessly coordinated, a flawless backdrop for Wylie and Benny’s celebration. But now that it all ran like clockwork, I found myself exposed. No more last-minute tweaks to lighting or repositioning centerpieces to disappear into.

I’d played myself right out of a hiding spot.

Elena’s voice cut through my thoughts, pleasant but probing as she leaned in.

“So, after figure skating, what’s your big plan? It’s an incredible career, but what’s next?”

I let out a laugh, the kind meant to fill space, buying time with a sip of wine.

“I’m not sure, actually. I’ve always loved event planning, so maybe something in that. Or interior design—I double-majored in business and design back in college.”

Her eyes lit up with interest.

“Oh, that’s fascinating! Where did you go to college?”

“Boston College,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, a little hesitant to share too much.

“I was on a skating scholarship and tried to balance both majors. I thought about going for honors, but then I got the opportunity to train in Vancouver, and, well, I couldn’t pass that up. Most of my friends were moving there, too, so it made sense.”

She nodded, clearly impressed, but her gaze flickered toward Wade, her smile softening with an almost conspiratorial warmth.

“So, will you be staying in Vancouver?”

I hesitated, the question nudging at a truth I wasn’t ready to confront.

“Honestly, I haven’t decided. My friends are so busy now that the house feels pretty empty. But it depends on how the next few months go. If I qualify for the Olympics, I’ll stay and focus on that. The big goal is to win Worlds and nationals to secure a spot representing the U.S. If that doesn’t happen, I might start thinking about what’s next.”

Elena’s expression didn’t waver, her interest genuine.

“And if you win but somehow don’t make it to the Olympics… what then?”

Wade’s sharp inhale beside me betrayed his disbelief at her question, his hand tightening protectively around mine under the table.

“Mom!” he burst out, aghast, his tone a blend of reproach and embarrassment.

I gave his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, flashing him a small smile.

“It’s okay,” I said lightly, waving his concern away. “I’ve thought about it a lot. If skating doesn’t pan out, I’d probably head back to Boston.”

Wade stiffened beside me, but Elena’s face brightened.

“Oh, really? And what would bring you back here?”

“My family’s in Boston. I’d like to spend more time with my little sister,” I said, the words tumbling out with practiced ease.

“I’ve been thinking about starting my business here, maybe teaching skating while I build it up. And eventually, I’d like to sign up as a foster parent.”

Elena’s smile grew, warmth radiating from her as if I’d said exactly what she wanted to hear.

“That’s so wonderful, Cal. And who knows? Maybe you’ll convince Wade to give up his silly bar endeavor and come back to work with us!”

Her words landed like a cold splash of water. Little bar endeavor? My brow knit together before I could stop myself. My filter—the one I barely managed at the best of times—crumbled away at her casual dismissal of Wade’s hard work. I knew he felt it too, the way his hand tightened over my knee, but I wasn’t going to brush this one off.

“Silly endeavor?” The words slipped out before I could check them, my voice taking on a slight edge that seemed to surprise Elena. Her eyes widened, caught off guard by the tone.

Wade’s hand pressed harder on my leg, a silent plea to let it go. But she’d touched a nerve, and I wasn’t about to hold back. Wade’s bar was anything but silly . It was a labor of love, a testament to his drive, his independence, and I wasn’t going to sit here and let her diminish that.

“Have you ever been to this so-called ‘silly endeavor?’” I asked, my voice steady but with just enough edge to make my point.

She hesitated, taken aback.

“Well… no. It’s just that we’re so busy with the family business, and, honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me why he couldn’t do something similar here, close to home. Somewhere that isn’t eight hours away by plane.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe he wants to build a life of his own? Not one that was planned out for him?” The words left my mouth, calm but firm. But I could feel the tenuous thread of goodwill I’d worked to build with her snapping under the weight of them. Maybe it was for the best.

She stiffened, defensively pulling herself back.

“He could make a life for himself right here. But that bar isn’t making a real life for him—not one that will last. And it isn’t as though we don’t want to help him. If he’d just come back to Boston, we could give him a start that would actually last.”

I took a deep breath, caught between the sting of my own family’s distance and the way she clung so tightly to Wade that it nearly choked him.

“I get it. You love him, and you want him close. But sometimes, people need the space to build something for themselves, without anyone else’s input. If you visited the bar, you’d see he’s created something beautiful. It’s not just a bar. It’s a place where people can feel safe and included. Somewhere folks like me and so many others can go without worrying if they’ll be welcome.”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“I’ll always be proud of him. But I still hope, once he’s done with this, that he’ll sell it and come home. We could build him any bar he wants, right here, so he could be here for his nieces and nephews, for all of us.”

I knew I wouldn’t win this one. This wasn’t about Wade’s career or his independence; it was about her fear of losing him.

“I hope one day, Mrs. Rossler, you’ll see that Wade is building a good life for himself. And the sooner you stop questioning his choices and start supporting them, the more he’ll feel free to come back here as himself. Even in just a weekend, I can see how much he loves all of you.”

But she shook her head, resolute.

“If he loved us, he wouldn’t keep leaving. First, it was the military, following Sam—and then when he got hurt and lost him….” Her eyes grew misty. “I watched my boy change overnight. If only he’d listened to me…”

The tension in the room cracked, and suddenly, Wade was standing, eyes stormy, his face drawn and fists clenched. His hand trembled as he met her gaze, the weight of an unspoken past haunting his eyes.

“Mom, stop,” he said, his voice thick with both frustration and hurt. “Cal’s right. You do suffocate me. You always have. First, with my diagnosis, coddling me, and then judging me for choosing the military. I needed to be with Sam, he was the one person who made me feel like me… like I was brave, strong, and not the broken little boy you all clung onto. I followed the man I loved, the person who was my home. I will never regret that. I could especially never live with myself if I wasn’t there on his last day. You don’t know what it’s like to worry someone you love is dying alone.”

Her face paled as he continued, a mixture of grief and anger surfacing.

“Then you tried to push me back to Danton after he cheated on me, just so I’d stay here. I love you. But I hate that you want to control me under the guise of what’s ‘best’ for me. I’m a thirty-two-year-old man. I’m capable of making my own choices, and like Cal said—if you’d just stop judging me, I’d stop keeping my distance.”

Without another word, he leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, and then stormed away. I watched him disappear, feeling the weight of the moment press heavily on both of us, yet hoping, somehow, he’d just carved a way forward for himself.

I turned to Benny and Wylie, guilt sinking in my gut, knowing my big mouth had stirred up drama on their special night.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, pushing my chair back before they could protest, slipping out of the venue to follow Wade into the biting cold.

I was lost in my thoughts trying to find the man who I found out so much about. There I was crying over a mom who didn’t want to answer my calls or see me, crying over the fact men had a way of putting their cocks in holes that were not my own… all when Wade had lost the love of his life in the war. It was a reality check all too real. Finally, I found him, standing near the edge of one of the vine lots, his back turned, shoulders drawn so tight it looked like the tension might snap him in two. His hand plunged into the snow, scooping up a handful before he hurled it with all the strength he could muster. It disappeared into the row of vines, leaving only silence and his heavy breath curling into the moonlit night.

I stopped a few feet away, the crunch of snow under my boots a quiet announcement of my presence. I didn’t speak. I didn’t dare. Instead, I waited, giving him the space to spill the words he’d been holding back for far too long.

“God, it’s like I’m never enough for them unless I’m doing exactly what they want,” he began, his voice hoarse and trembling with exhaustion. “I love them, you know? They’re my family. But it’s suffocating. They say it’s all about closeness, about togetherness, but it feels like I’m always the one compromising, the one folding myself into whatever they think I should be.” His fists clenched, and his words tumbled out faster. “It was always poor Wade. Poor Wade with his autoimmune problems, in and out of hospitals. Then poor Wade who lost Sam. ” His voice caught on the name, and my chest tightened.

He shook his head, bitterness and heartbreak playing across his face.

“And then when I came back, they threw Danton at me like he’d be some kind of lifeline. I played along, Cal. I tried. I stayed in Boston. I worked for the family business. I lived their picture-perfect life.” His laugh came out hollow, cutting through the cold. “And for what? To be cheated on? To be reminded I’ll never be enough no matter what I do?”

I took a step closer, my breath catching as he dropped his head forward, his hands flexing and releasing as if trying to claw the frustration from his chest.

“And now,” he continued, his voice softer but no less raw, “even after everything I’ve built, everything I’ve worked for, I’m still not enough. I have a boyfriend. I’m happy. And somehow, that’s still not enough for them.”

The vulnerability in his voice gutted me. Wade wasn’t just angry—he was exhausted, worn down by years of trying to measure up to expectations he’d never agreed to in the first place. The weight of his pain pressed against my chest, and without thinking, I closed the gap between us.

I slid my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly from behind. For a moment, he stiffened, but then his shoulders sagged, the fight draining from his body. His head tipped forward, his breath hitching as he let me hold him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words so unexpected they startled a laugh out of me. It came out shaky, somewhere between relief and disbelief.

“For what? Stirring up drama at your brother’s engagement party?” I tried to lighten the mood. “Pretty sure I’m persona non grata at the wedding now.”

He turned in my arms, his broad frame enveloping mine, pulling me closer. His steel-blue eyes found mine, piercing and searching, but gentler than I’d ever seen them.

“No,” he said softly. “Thank you for standing up for me. It means more than you know.”

My throat tightened at the raw honesty in his voice.

“They should be the ones standing up for you, Wade.”

He gave a bitter smile.

“They don’t. They never have. Not really. Danton didn’t even have the guts to stand by me when it mattered. He chose staying in their good graces over choosing me.”

The bitterness in his voice stung because I could see how deeply it still hurt him. I couldn’t imagine it—choosing tradition or approval over love. When I loved, I loved completely, recklessly, and always at my own expense.

“Well, Jack” I said, squaring my shoulders, “I’ll never sit quietly while they call your bar silly. It’s amazing, and anyone who says otherwise clearly hasn’t stepped foot in it.”

His lips twitched at my defiance, but his expression turned curious.

“Why do you do that?”

I blinked. “Do what?”

“Go back and forth between Wade and Jack.”

The question hit harder than I wanted to admit. I pulled away slightly, his hands falling to his sides as he waited for an answer.

“I don’t know, Jack, ” I said, half a joke, half a dodge.

But Wade didn’t let me off the hook. He stepped closer, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

“No, you do know. You call me Jack when you want to keep me at arm’s length. Like you’re talking to the bartender—someone grumpy and safe, someone you’d never take seriously. But Wade? That’s the real me, and he terrifies you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He wasn’t wrong, and the truth of it hung between us like a challenge I wasn’t sure I was ready to take on.

I swallowed hard, his gaze stripping away every carefully constructed defense I’d built. The playful jabs, the harmless flirting—they all crumbled under the weight of his question. Wade wasn’t just some handsome guy I could laugh with and leave behind. He was real, and he scared the hell out of me because I wanted him.

He stepped closer, his voice low and steady— I could see it in his eyes. Gone was the frustration from his family. Gone was the hurt that was brought up over the table. It was gone in the snow infused wind. In that moment… all that was left was the heat in his eyes, as if I was the only thing he wanted to focus on at that moment.

“What do you want, Pretty Boy?”

The words sent my pulse into overdrive.

“I…”

His eyes never wavered, his presence grounding yet electric.

“Let it out. What is it that you want?”

Maybe it was the alcohol loosening my tongue, or the flood of emotions that had been simmering for months, or the fact that he was staring at me like a scene straight out of The Notebook. Whatever it was, the words tumbled out before I could stop them.

“I want to be touched. I want to be fucked. I want a boyfriend, just for tonight. Just one night, because I can’t afford heartache.” My voice cracked, and he was there, his hands on my face, steadying me. His eyes were soft, yet intense, seeing through every fractured piece of me.

“I let relationships mess with my skating before. I can’t let that happen again. I need…” My voice faltered, thick with emotion. “I need to prove to my mom I can do this.”

His fingers brushed along my jaw, grounding me further. His voice was calm, but there was a spark of something deeper beneath it.

“You don’t have to explain. If this is what you want—”

I nodded, my chest tightening and releasing all at once as the tension morphed into anticipation. The way he looked at me under the moonlight, all certainty and intent, sent a shiver down my spine.

“I want to be fucked,” I whispered, the words raw and aching. “Not made love to.”

I could see my breath in the air, it came out in quick uneven pants, evidence of the whiplash I was having at how the conversation had taken a one eighty. Though with all the emotions that came with that party, remembering how he kissed me, the feel of his touch… I was ready to break my own promise to myself, break the rules, I was me after all, and I always danced on the line of sin and temptation—I would pay for it later, it was a tomorrow problem, especially when he looked at me like that. Wade’s jaw tightened, and he took a breath like he was weighing every word I’d said. Then, without hesitation, he scooped me up over his shoulder in one swift motion.

My breath caught—not just from the surprise of being lifted, but from the sheer heat in his eyes. The man didn’t hesitate, and tonight, neither would I.

The walk felt endless, each step sending a buzz through my entire body. The icy air stung my skin, but Wade’s hold burned like an anchor, steady and unyielding. Finally, he pushed open the door to a small cabin tucked at the edge of the vineyard, out of sight from the party.

Inside, the space was dim and quiet, the soft creak of the door closing behind us the only sound. He set me down gently, his hands lingering on my arms as if to steady me. I looked up, searching his face, and found a storm of emotions there—intensity, restraint, and something deeper, something that made my chest tighten.

“Cal,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “Once we start, there’s no going back tonight. Are you sure?”

My heart raced, my body alight with need and something like fear. But the fear wasn’t of Wade—it was of the unknown, of giving myself over completely, even for just one night. I reached up, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and pulled him down to me.

“I’m sure,” I whispered, the last of my hesitation melting away under his steady gaze.

That was all it took. His mouth crashed against mine, fierce and unrestrained. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer, supporting me even as I felt myself unraveling. Every fear, every wall, every jagged edge I’d been carrying dissolved under the weight of his touch.

The kiss deepened, and with it came a release I hadn’t realized I’d been holding back for months. Wade’s strength wrapped around me, his certainty a balm to the chaos inside me. Tonight wasn’t about love or promises. It was about letting go, losing myself in him, and finding a moment of peace.

It was raw, consuming, and exactly what I needed. For just one night, Wade wasn’t the guy who scared me—he was the man who made me feel safe. And that, for now, was enough.