Chapter 38
DEVON
Jack flew out the next morning—off to meet up with the Grizzlies in Seattle.
The IceHawks won in Denver and then in Los Angeles as well. I actually scored a goal in that one. Total fluke. The center from LA caught a blade and while he struggled, I stole the puck from him. Before I knew it, I was down the ice with no one in my way. Taking a shot was reckless.
And successful.
For you, Jack. That was all for you.
After a losing game in Seattle, we flew back to Vancouver.
Morning practice the next day went well, and then I was free for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
Since the Grizzlies were playing that night, I headed to Abbotsford.
I filled a suitcase with personal stuff, including Mom’s recordings, and tucked them into my trunk.
I still didn’t have a contract with Vancouver, so I wasn’t giving up the condo in Abbotsford yet.
Too close to the rink. And no one from the team living on my floor. That was a huge bonus.
Especially if I was going to bring Jack back here and do all the things I wanted to him.
Better yet, we would be going to his rental house. No one would hear him screaming. I looked forward to breaking through his stoicism. I’d find ways to drive him crazy. I had…plans.
In the meantime, I nabbed a seat in the stands across from the bench so I could watch him to my heart’s delight.
The Grizzlies won. They’d won under Amy’s leadership in Kamloops. Jack had sung her praises when he rejoined the team. They’d won in Seattle and were coming home on a high note.
Now they faced Edmonton, who were doing a West Coast swing.
Edmonton were bruisers who played a very physical game.
Lucky for us, we skated better and were much faster.
Keeping the puck without getting hurt would be a top priority.
Despite the dismal start to the year, the Grizzlies faced only a few injuries.
And even the number of wins was outpacing the losses by quite a bit.
They weren’t likely to make the playoffs, but under Jack’s stewardship, they were a much stronger team.
And winning wasn’t everything—coming together to score points and outwit opponents meant as much as they rebuilt.
The game wound up being close. Claus scored a freaking hat trick, Lous had another goal and, to my surprise, Arts scored one. Being close to retirement, I figured he’d take it easy. Nope. He busted his ass.
I want to be that good when I’m his age. I still want to be playing for Vancouver. I want Jack in my life, and I want—
Huh.
What do I want? Not kids. That’s not my path. But…maybe a dog? A house? A domestic life to come home to after rough road trips? Oh, and a Cup. At least three. I wasn’t going to be greedy. Funny how that had been my last thought and not my first. That told me something. That gave me pause.
Jack would be well into his fifties.
My gaze shot to where he was congratulating the team on a game well-played.
As if sensing me, he gazed into the stands. He smiled when he caught my eye.
At that moment, Hairs turned his head.
And spotted me.
Reading his expression from this distance might’ve been difficult.
His first expression was rage. But, like, for a second.
What did they call that? A micro expression?
If I hadn’t been looking, I wouldn’t have spotted it.
By the time it registered, he was grinning.
But not in a happy to see you way. Nope. In a cat who got the cream way.
I knew. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew.
Lous skated over to my side of the rink and beckoned me down. When I was close enough, he mouthed The Trading Post.
I nodded. Aside from the fact that they made one of the best burgers I’d ever enjoyed, I wanted to see the guys again. I wouldn’t be staying long. And it’d help me fight the temptation to drive over to Jack’s house and beat the shit out of him. You have your toys in the car—
Nope. Wasn’t going there. He was still the head coach.
I was still only called up. That said, Ceders appeared to be out for the season.
With Vancouver making a run for the Cup—however improbable that was—I couldn’t be distracted by Jack.
If he was giving up his coaching career for me, the least I could do was win some games for him.
A lot of games. Maybe eventually games that led to the Cup.
The parking lot for The Trading Post was almost full, but I found a spot near the back. Under a streetlamp, which made me feel better. Abbotsford was pretty safe., but stuff could get stolen anywhere. I’d feel better having Mom’s recordings safe at the hotel.
A hopping bar wasn’t always my scene. Sports bars were part of the game, though.
Now, gay bars and kink clubs? More my speed.
I’d scoped out both in Vancouver. Though, after Mickey being photographed leaving my hotel room in Toronto, everything had changed.
I could explain a million times he was just a friend—leaving out the fuck-buddy part because that was between the two of us, and no amount of money in the world would induce him to out me that way—but some people would believe I was gay.
Which you are, and if you came out on your terms, then maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.
The questions at the press conference had all been about my sexuality.
I’d expected that. Explaining so very many times that I was choosing to keep my private life private had only fueled the flames.
Now I anticipated—and dreaded—cameras everywhere. I no longer trusted anyone.
Except Mickey and Jack.
Okay, and maybe Lous and Claus. As captain, Lous had to maintain a level of decorum.
He’d have to be pretty screwed up to risk his place on the team.
Claus really wanted to make top line before too much time passed.
At twenty-nine, he was one of the older players.
Not the oldest, by any means, but he’d confided he was wondering if he might ever get called up.
He was a fucking talented center, but Arvy was even better.
I could see Arvy getting into the big leagues sooner rather than later.
As I entered the bar, the smell of hops and yeast hit me. I’d have a beer with a big meal. I’d sip it slowly and drive back to Vancouver carefully. Not that I wasn’t always careful. But being pulled over—even if I was nowhere near the limit—wasn’t a good idea.
Claus emerged from the hallway to the washrooms and clapped me on the back. “The prodigal son returns.”
“Lous invited me.”
“And you’re most welcome. Especially after my amazing night.”
“Yeah, well done.”
“I cringe to say that it helped Arvy got knocked around by that Edmonton asshole and had to get checked out.”
“Is he okay?” That should’ve been my first thought.
“Yeah. Bruised, but okay. He’ll be at the game in two days. And you’ll be busy in Vancouver.” He fluffed my hair. “So damn proud. Okay, I’m fucking starving. Lous grabbed a seat for me.”
I soon discovered our captain had saved one for me as well—right next to Claus. I gave Lous a huge grin as I asked the lovely server for a sleeve of pale ale.
She smiled back, took everyone’s orders, and headed back downstairs.
I put my arm around Claus’s shoulders. “Wow, eh?”
Lous grinned. “Fuck, yes. Like, amazing.” He tapped Claus’s hand—which sat on the table. “You’re the dark horse sometimes. You play well most of the time, but then you have a spectacular night.”
“Hopefully someone’ll notice.” Claus gazed down at his hands. “I really—” He cut off and gazed at me. “I’ll admit I’m jealous.”
I squeezed his biceps. “I didn’t expect to be called up.
Might happen for you as well.” Even saying the words though—and knowing they were both true and untrue—felt off.
Of course, he might get called up. Except he’d been a Grizzly for nearly ten years.
Might he be better off if he gets traded? New team? New opportunities?
Except I wanted him on the ice with me in Vancouver. I’d do almost anything for that—even though my own position was precarious at best.
“I gotta take a leak.” Hairs, who sat three seats down from me, made the pronouncement loud enough for the entire table to hear.
“Asshole.” Lous said the word softly and directed at me.
Does he know?
I only had suspicions, but I was damn well going to find out once and for all. I shoulder-punched Claus. “Me too. Keep an eye on my drink.”
He laughed as he gave me a thumbs-up.
I caught Lous’s gaze just as I rose.
“Don’t do anything reckless.” Again, Lous spoke very softly. Barely audible above the music and din of conversation in the bar.
Claus shot his gaze to mine.
I smiled. “All good.” Then I slowly made my way down the stairs.
The washrooms in the bar were individual rooms as opposed to communal spaces. Which made choosing a place for the confrontation tough.
As I arrived in the hallway, Hairs emerged from one of the rooms. At least he was using a paper towel. I wasn’t convinced he always washed his hands.
Right…and that’s what you’re focusing on? I cleared my throat.
A slow, lazy grin appeared. “Ah, so you need to piss? Do you need me to hold your limp dick?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s really the best you’ve got?”
He shrugged. “What else do I need?”
“I don’t know…a personality? Some humanity?”
His face hardened with his dark-brown eyes glinting in the low light. “Problem? Devs the deviant?”
“Jesus fucking Christ. We’re well into the twenty-first century. That kind of—”
He grinned. “Yeah, I know you’re a queer. I followed you to the gay bar in Toronto where you met your ‘friend’.” Fucker used air quotes.