Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
RYAN
I should call Mom and make sure she was getting on all right. I looked over my modern apartment, not far from downtown Tempe and the rink. It was in one of the new high-rises a lot of the students lived in, but it was good for now. Where did I leave my phone?
I walked around the main room, lifting a colorful pillow from the corner of my cream-colored leather sofa. Not there. I checked the coffee table, an oval thing I’d picked up in a secondhand shop and given a nice black sheen to because, why not. I hummed. Not there either. I stepped to my square dinette, also black to match my coffee table, and spied the damn thing. “There you are, you little bugger.”
Plucking it off the table, I dialed Mom and held the phone to my ear, then walked to the patio doors overlooking a bustling boulevard three stories down. “A” Mountain rose up in the distance, the infamous namesake letter almost glowing in the fading light. The phone rang a few times before she picked up.
“Ryan? What a pleasant surprise,” Mom said.
“Hi, Mom. It’s good to hear your voice.” As my lips quirked into a grin, I paced in front of the patio doors. The reflection of my sheer silver shirt shone through the glass. She sounded well, but then the cancer was supposedly gone for now. “Got any grand plans for your new year?”
“You know I don’t. I’ll probably be in bed by ten.” She sighed. “I don’t have the energy I used to with these post-cancer drugs.”
“Oh, the Tamoxifen?” I stopped and rubbed a knot in my neck. She’d let the doctors remove both her breasts when they’d found the lump on her left side, and then she’d followed up her surgery with chemo just to be safe. Mom was tough, and she wasn’t letting it take her down.
“Yes, but it’s better than the alternative,” she said. “What about you?” A hint of teasing entered her voice. “I’m sure you’ve got some plans for New Year’s Eve.”
With a sharp laugh, I said, “Yeah, going to check out a gay bar that’s close by.” I skimmed my finger down the cool glass and tucked my free hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “Gotta ring in the new year right.”
“Of course, eh?” With a soft chuckle, she said, “Maybe you can find someone to replace Laurent.”
My chest tightened. “Yeah, maybe.” Or a good fuck. That’s what I really needed. I wasn’t sure another relationship was in the cards for a long time.
“How did you leave things with him?” she asked.
Puffing out a breath, I raked my fingers through my bangs. “Good. We’re still friends, Mom. In fact, I’m going to call him after I get off the phone with you.” Because I’d promised and hadn’t gotten to it yet.
“You really loved that boy.” She exhaled into the phone. “It’s sad the two of you couldn’t make it work.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t want to move to the States and…you know the rest.” With a wince, I gazed out the window at the darkness enveloping the sky. But really, Laurent and I had grown apart. He’d wanted different things, like inviting men into our bed. In the end, I hadn’t been enough for him. I rubbed the heel of my hand over my chest. Then he’d ended up HIV positive, but I’d have stayed with him anyway.
“Well, I’m glad you two can still be friends. He pulled you out of a horrible time in your life.”
“Yeah, that he did.” I winced and dipped my head. After the injury, it was Laurent who’d kept me from losing myself to drugs and alcohol. I owed him my life.
“Anyway, don’t forget to call your father at some point. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear from you.” She chuckled. “And I’m doing fine, so don’t you be worrying about me.”
“Yeah, okay.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Dad had a new family to focus on, but Mom was always hopeful my relationship with him would return to normal. The truth was, along with my hockey career, the accident had destroyed that as well.
“Have a Happy New Year, son, and go have some fun tonight. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you. Bye.” I bit my lower lip.
“Love you too. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone.
With a heavy sigh, I strolled to my sofa and dropped onto the end of it. I should get this phone call out of the way so I could leave. “Here goes nothing.” I dialed Laurent’s number and waited while it rang.
“Hey, Ryan. Good to hear from you.” Music and laughter filtered through the phone.
He was probably already at Lori’s party. She’d been friends with Laurent since grade three, and going to her place for New Year’s Eve had become a tradition. “Hi, Laurent. You at Lori’s place?”
“I am.” The clinking of glass sounded through our connection. “How are things? Have you met your new team?”
“I have. They seem like… Well, like typical college hockey players.” I toyed with a fold in my jeans. And that one guy? Damn, he was a beauty. Best-looking guy I’d seen in a long time. The way his blue eyes lit up under his dark hair…just my type. “They knew I was a Canuck as soon as I opened my mouth. ”
“Of course they did.” He freed a soft snort. “Any fellow Canadians on the team?”
“Yeah, a few. One of them is from BC but calls Chicago home now.” I tilted my head and gazed toward the now-dark patio doors. I’d gone over the roster with Coach Patterson but still had to put faces with the names.
“Cool. It’s really great the head coach let you stay here and take care of your mom while she went through chemo. I don’t know of many employers who would do something like that,” he said.
“It says a lot about the organization. Plus, they’re queer-friendly. Mike, the head coach, says he’s got six guys who are all out and queer. They stick together, even live in the same house.” My chest warmed. It was one of the reasons I’d picked ASU over a university on the East Coast. I wanted to help these guys and be a part of abolishing discrimination against the queer community in hockey.
“Are you serious? That’s great, eh. I’m sure you’ll fit right in there.” He mumbled something and another male voice snaked through the phone. “Hey, sorry. I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah, no worries. I’ll catch up with you another time.” I flung my arm over the back of my sofa. It sounded like he already had another guy on the hook for tonight. A soft ache floated through my chest. It didn’t matter, really. I’d be doing the same. He was on meds now and the virus was undetectable in his body. It wasn’t any of my business how he lived his life.
“You cruising tonight?” he asked.
“I am. There’s a gay bar a few blocks away, so I don’t even have to drive.” A smirk swept over my lips. I was on a mission to get laid, but no need to rub it in.
“Well, have fun, but not too much fun.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, you too.” Miss you …my breath caught. No, I’d leave that alone. “Bye, Laurent.”
“Bye, Ryan.” He hung up the phone.
I set my phone down next to me, then circled the silver- beaded bracelet he’d gotten me on our first anniversary around my wrist. I never took the thing off. It had become my good luck charm. I hoped it gave me good luck tonight.
After ordering in some Chinese food for dinner, applying some eyeliner and gelling my hair, I strolled up the metal stairs to the gay bar, aptly named The Club on Mill . Pounding techno music spilled out of the door, where a large man wearing all black checked IDs.
After showing my ID, I stepped into the bar and looked around. Gyrating male bodies, mostly half-naked, bounced around on the dancefloor and colorful lights swung and blinked overhead. A man in a gold Speedo stepped toward me, holding a tray of colorful hats and noisemakers. “Here, on the house.”
“Thanks.” With a smile, I grabbed a silver-fringed noisemaker off his tray. It matched my shirt, after all. And a hat? No, that wouldn’t do. It would ruin my carefully quaffed hair. Lifting my chin, I strutted for the bar, noting a few glances shooting my way. Yeah, I was getting lucky tonight.
I lay my forearms across the black bar top, my scattering of tattoos on full display, remnants of the time when I’d gone hog wild and hadn’t given a shit about myself. On impulse, I bent my knee slightly, checking for pain. No, the thing was on a good streak right now. If I was careful and didn’t do something stupid, like slip or fall, it’d stay that way.
I skimmed a tall chalkboard behind the bar with a display of shot names all lit up in neon colors. Holy shit, some were hilarious, like Dirty Boy or I’m Fucked . Which one was I tonight?
A muscled bartender wearing only a pair of tiny jean shorts waltzed down to my end of the bar. “What can I get you?” He wiped the bar top with a rag.
“I think I’ll take a dirty boy.” I ticked my brows at him. “And a beer, please. You have any Molson?” It was about the only taste of home I could think of in a place like this.
He eyed me up and down, then smirked. “Sure, coming right up.” He left and poured my shot, then opened a bottle of beer for me and set them both on the bar top.
I thanked and paid him, then scanned down the bar a moment before taking my shot, the sweet liquid sliding down my throat. “Oh fuck.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and sipped my beer. I was done with those. They’d only lead to a hellacious hangover in the morning.
A man with a dark head of hair stood at the corner, tapping his hands on the bar.
“No fucking way.” I narrowed my eyes at him. Could it be the guy on the team I’d noticed? Maybe he was one of the queer players?
Grabbing my beer, I wound through men to the corner of the bar, then planted my beer next to his. If he was here, what was I going to do about it? I didn’t even know if he was on defense and, technically, one of my players. Shit, I didn’t want to fuck up my new job already.
The guy twisted around and lifted a brow, his brown eyes raking over me. “Hi.” He bit the side of his lower lip.
It wasn’t the player from my team. “Hi.” I gave him my best smile. He wasn’t bad to look at and was close enough. He could pass for my player in my imagination. Yeah, that would do. And I wasn’t going to think too much about it. Not tonight. “Happy New Year.” I held up my bottle to him.
“Happy New Year.” He tapped his beer to mine with a clink, then drank it.
After a few gulps of my beer, I cocked my head, taking in his white cropped shirt and the rippled ab muscles underneath it, a trail of hair leading into his jeans. “What’s your name?”
“Owen.” He drank more of his beer, flicked his gaze behind me, and then came back. “And you are?”
“Ryan.” I inched closer to him. He wasn’t moving away, which was a good sign. He didn’t look older than his early twenties. “You a student at the college here?”
“Yeah.” A grin teased his lips. “I’m studying business, well, marketing, really.” He rocked to the beat of the music. “How about you?”
“Me? I’m done with school. I work, um, I’m a hockey coach for the Devils.” Might as well get it out of the way. He wasn’t a hockey player, so he wasn’t technically off-limits.
“Really?” His eyes lit up. “I don’t know much about hockey, but aren’t you a little young to be a coach?” As he tongued his lower lip, he worked his gaze over me.
“Not really. I’m twenty-eight. I graduated from school in Toronto with a degree in kinesiology. Comes in handy if you want to coach hockey.” I sipped my beer and did a quick scan of the men filtering in through the door. It was going to be packed. But what had I expected on New Year’s Eve?
He tapped the top of his bottle against my chest. “So, did you ever play hockey?”
My chest stung and I dipped my head for a beat. I didn’t want to get into it with him. This would only be a hookup. “Yeah, I played until my first year out of high school. Got into juniors and…” I focused on him, his brows knitting. He didn’t know what I was talking about. “Anyway, I quit when I was eighteen and decided to coach instead.” There, that was the abbreviated version.
“Guess you weren’t good enough to keep going?” He smirked as he drank his beer.
Heat prickled over my skin. “I was good enough, I just…” Fuck, it wasn’t worth getting into. I’d been a shoo-in for the draft. I had been damn good. This guy wouldn’t understand. “Just didn’t work out, is all.”
“Okay.” He set his hand over mine resting on the bar top and gave me a coy smile. “Anyway, want to dance?”
I peeked at the dancefloor. There were too many people out there to move around very much. The knee would be okay. “ Sure.” Twisting my hand around, I grabbed his and hauled him out to the dancefloor, then turned around.
With a smirk, he hooked an arm around my waist and dragged our hips together, brushing his already hard cock against mine through our jeans. “You’re pretty hot.”
“Yeah? So are you.” He wasn’t wasting any time. I ground on him, my dick lengthening against his, then claimed him with a hungry kiss.
His tongue darted between my lips and swiped over mine, then he broke the kiss. “Where you from, Ryan?”
“Toronto.” Hadn’t I basically told him that already? I swayed with him and bounced to the beat, the friction on my cock shivering up my spine. “You?”
“I’m from here. Born and raised in Scottsdale, also known as Snotsdale.” He let out a sharp chuckle, then his brows quirked. “You’re Canadian?”
“I am.” I cupped his cheek, then pressed another kiss to his mouth, gliding my tongue inside to tangle with his.
With a moan, he slapped both hands to my ass and ground on me. “Fuck, can we go somewhere?”
“Restroom?” I nibbled on his earlobe, and he shuddered in my arms. This guy was a needy fucker. I liked that.
In a ragged voice, he said, “Yeah.” He pulled away, looked around for a moment, then snatched my hand and led me through the crowd.
As we passed the DJ, my gaze landed on the stand around him, a pair of lips with butterflies fluttering around them painted in neon colors. This place was trippy.
He hauled me through a door and shoved me into a dark stall against the gray wall tiles. I breathed in the scents of stale beer and sex. Yeah, this was where it was at.
As his mouth fused with mine, he unzipped my jeans and freed my cock, then stroked, his kisses ravaging me.
“Oh fuck.” I groaned and thrust into his hand, pleasure coiling inside me. Skimming my hand under his shirt, I found a nipple and teased it into a hard nub.
He moaned against my cheek, then nibbled from my chin to my neck and dropped to his knees. “Want to suck you off.”
“Sounds like a fine plan.” Hell yeah, I’d hit the jackpot. I twined my fingers into his dark hair and looked down, the image of my player replacing him. Yeah, even better. I could pretend.
Owen flicked his tongue over my head, licking a bead of precum, then unfastened his jeans and slipped his cock free. As he fisted my base, he plunged his mouth over my dick and pumped it, his head bobbing.
With a gasp, I tilted my head and my back hit the cool tile wall. A wave of sensation heated my skin. He was damn good at this.
As he fluttered his tongue over my dick, he stroked himself and moaned.
The vibration on my cock tightened my balls. “Oh shit.” I wasn’t going to last. It had been too long. I watched my dick disappear into his willing mouth, the heat and wetness tingling inside me. “Do…do you want me to, to take care of you?” I gritted out, then bit my lower lip. Some guys wanted the favor returned, others were happy to jerk themselves, and others wanted to come all over you.
“Yeah.” He pumped faster and sucked so hard his cheeks hollowed.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” I thrust into his mouth, gagging him for a beat, then sensation surged up my spine and my dick pulsed, spurting my cum inside him.
He swallowed me down, pumping furiously on his own cock, and as it slowed, he stood up, panting. “Suck me off. Now.”
I twisted him around and shoved his back to the wall, then lowered myself and shucked his jeans to his thighs. His cock stood tall and thick. With my mouth watering, I grabbed it with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other, then sucked him in.
He gasped and slapped his hands to the back of my head. “Yeah, fuck, that’s it.” He thrust his cock to the back of my throat, again and again.
Gagging, I fought to control the situation, pushing on his hips and rearing my head back. As my eyes stung, his dick twitched, and hot cum burst down my throat.
“Fuck, oh fuck.” His knees buckled, then straightened.
As it calmed, I pulled off him and swiped my mouth with the back of my hand. This guy was rough. I liked it, but something was off. As I stood, I tucked myself into my jeans. “So…”
“Yeah, so, that was good, man.” He tucked his spent dick away and fastened his pants. “Dance some more?” He lifted his brows.
“Yeah, sure.” I shrugged a shoulder. “At least join me for another beer.” It would be nice to have someone to share a New Year toast with.
He tagged my shoulder. “Hey, let me get your number first.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket.
“My, my phone number?” Did I want to give it to him? I worried my lower lip. I didn’t know anyone around here yet—well, outside of the hockey team. What could it hurt? “Sure.” I gave him my number and my phone buzzed in my pocket as he called it.
“There, now we can hang out sometime and maybe do this again?” The corner of his lips tugged up.
“Yeah, sure.” I planted my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go get new beers.”