Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Mid-August
Dirk
Things are tense between Trav and me until mid-August, right around the time we’re all thinking about training camp.
I’m outside in the driveway, shooting pucks at the garage door.
We’re definitely gonna have to replace it before we move out, if we ever do.
What are the chances we’d be rich enough to buy this place someday?
Vancouver real estate ain’t cheap. Even a house like this one would cost a mint, being in the heart of Kitsilano and all.
Thank fuck for my and Trav’s taciturn ways at a time like this.
No one’s suspected a thing. The only time I almost gave myself away was when he went on his trip, and I checked my phone every five minutes for a message from him, and people noticed.
The asshole waited two days before he returned any of my texts.
Trav
Do you think you’d be okay to hold the fort for another week?
No, “Hi, honey, how’s your goddamn day?” just that bullshit. Yeah, I’m already that partner, but fuck him. I deserve a little fucking respect.
Me
Stay away forever. No one cares.
Except that all evidence pointed to the contrary, and he knew it.
Trav
I thought you needed space, kid?
Kid. Trav’s way of putting a barrier between us. I’m so glad he’s doing that. Did that mean we were off? I didn’t know, but it was nice of him to fucking tell me.
Me
Have a great trip
I’d said instead of getting into another fight over text.
The hardest part through that was not knowing where we stood, and I wasn’t going to make the first move again. It was his turn. When he returned, I forgave him way too fucking easily for the kid comment, but I’m learning that when Trav touches me, I’m putty.
I’d heard his bike pull into the parking lot. That was enough to have the butterflies in my stomach doing backflips. He strode into the bar’s lounge. I was in the middle of well stock, but so help me, as much as I wanted to ignore him, I couldn’t.
Dash was there, wiping down some tables, and therefore the only thing stopping me from running to Trav.
Dash got to do what I wanted to, encasing the still leather-clad man in a bone-gripping hug.
Dash gets a bit squirrely and clingy when his dad’s away.
Yeah, Dash has Stacey, but he doesn’t have Stacey in the way he’d like to have him.
I suspect things would be different if he did.
I let them have their moment, enjoying the relief that was visibly filling my best friend, but also admiring Trav.
Cause, holy fuck, him in all that leather made my heart race and my cock raging hard.
But at the same time my heart raced, it cried.
God, I’d missed him. Had he missed me at all?
Or had he managed to permanently sequester me into some kind of “his kid’s friend” category?
“Stace is taking me out,” Dash said, “but I was hoping we could catch up later? You could report back about your new girlfriend … or boyfriend.”
Not gonna lie, I was pissed when I heard that. I didn’t know at the time Dash was being optimistic, and I assumed they’d talked about it. My heart broke in half, and it was also the moment I knew that, yes, I’d lie for Trav. I’d tell a hundred lies to be with him.
Fuck it. I’d sell my soul to be with him. That one moment, feeling what it felt like if he moved on was utter agony.
“I’d love to catch up, but I’m gonna disappoint you. The love of my life wasn’t on the road.”
His indigo eyes flicked to me briefly. Did that mean what I think it meant? If Trav was planning on getting my hopes up only to crush them, I’d kill him this time.
“Okay.”
“But what about you? Stacey’s taking you out?”
“Not like that. Just for sushi, and so we have an excuse to be out of the house. Sutterchuck are like animals.”
“Sutterchuck?” he says. “What’s a Sutterchuck?”
“I’ll fill you in on the gossip later, Dad.”
Dash left, which meant it was just me and Trav. I leaned against the back of the bar, crossing my arms, not giving an inch. He could come to me.
And he did, his heavy boots drumming across the floor. Coming for me. When I say fire, I mean my whole world set ablaze in that moment. My knees wanted to buckle, but I used the last of my resolve to hold steady.
He slapped his hand on the copper bar top, patting it with expectation, and I looked around.
No one was there, but there were cameras everywhere.
Sometimes the others—especially Stacey—saw those cameras.
Dash had only gone to get his stuff; it wasn’t guaranteed he’d leave out the back.
But we’d reached our first fuck it moment, and I jumped to sit on that counter so fast.
Trav pushed the barstools out of the way and moved to stand between my legs. I could smell the carbon smoke from his bike as I placed my arms over his shoulders and let my forehead rest against his.
“I missed you, asshole. Apologize for bein’ a dick.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, pretty boy.”
My face heated as hot as the sun, I swear. He didn’t say the words “I’m sorry”, but they were in his voice, and that was enough for me. I knew then I was in so much trouble. If I was willing to forgive him that easily, what else would I do for the man?
Answer? Anything. Absolutely fucking anything.
“Call me ‘kid’ again, Trav, and the first time I touch your dick, it’ll be to cut it off.”
He laughed against my neck. “Sounds counterproductive for you, but message received.”
Fuck, though, it was a nearly perfect reunion.
A hello kiss was all that was missing. Dash did leave out the back.
Trav could have kissed me senseless. I expected things to heat up after that—they didn’t.
Instead, he felt guilty for what he’d done.
Yeah, just for touching me. It was one step forward, two steps back with us.
I can’t take it anymore.
Wham! I send another puck flying toward the garage door. I hate it here. I hate that the only man I want is un-fucking-reachable. Whack! Another puck, another black mark on the white garage door. Hunter’ll know how to paint over that. Hopefully.
When I’m done taking out my frustrations on some hockey pucks, I check my phone.
Speaking of Hunter, there he is. I’ve been putting off the whole “meet my fictional boyfriend” thing with all kinds of excuses, but I’m running out.
Hunter’s busy schedule over the summer came in handy—construction’s always highest in Vancouver at this time of the year—but he’s hellbent on arranging something before I leave for training camp.
Know what? I’m just gonna pay a guy on Benduovr to be my date for a night and be done with it. Hunter will hate him, demand I break up with him, and this headache will be over. I pull up the app to find someone suitable.
Trav has his eyes on me all day. I work through a busy lunch rush, doing my best to ignore him, and not think about what I have planned for later.
It doesn’t mean anything. I won’t even hold the guy’s hand. It’s all business, nothing else. I do have to attempt to conjure up a smile like I had for Trav, but that’s easy. I’ll think about Trav. That way, I can tell him later that I was thinking about him the whole time.
He’s going to be pissed, I know I would be if he did this, but he’ll understand. He knows what Hunter’s like.
Trav doesn’t bother with stealth, which is a problem, and wanders over to the bar as if he knows I’m up to something. Does he know me that well?
“I need you to stay late,” he says. “Hope that’s not a problem.”
Not this a-fucking-gain. “I have dinner at my brother’s.”
“No, you don’t. You’re not going.”
There’s only one reason he’d say that. Dash the fucking accidental rat. He caught me making the plans with Arthur, so I told him the truth—I was bringing Arthur to Boulder family dinner.
Okay, so I didn’t tell him the whole truth, but I didn’t lie either. He must have blabbed to his dad.
“It’s one fucking night, Trav. It doesn’t mean anything.” I’d do the whole ask permission thing like last time, but that was mostly in fun. This isn’t.
His jaw’s tighter than I’ve ever seen it. “It means something to me.”
“The fuck it does, Trav. You’ve been ignoring me again, so I did what I had to. I’m going.” I toss my cloth into the sink and storm out of the bar. He doesn’t follow.
Arthur’s an accountant from Vancouver Island. He moved to the mainland three years ago. He’s no hockey player, but he definitely works out and has some size to him. If I wasn’t already in love with my best friend’s dad, I’d totally be into Arthur.
We meet at a coffee shop I don’t usually frequent beforehand so that I can give him the rundown. It’s walking distance from Hunter’s, so the plan is to get coffee and head up there once he’s in the know.
I tell him the situation, and things are going well until he places a hand over mine. It’s smooth, not a single imperfection to it. All wrong.
“Look, I know you said this wasn’t a sex thing, but instead of paying me in money, I’d be willing to—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Not interested.”
“But, fuck, you’re so … you.”
Yeah, I’m good-looking. So what? Doesn’t mean I’m sleeping around. My ass belongs to someone else, even if that someone else royally pissed me off earlier.
We finish our coffees and head down Fraser Street into the quieter suburbs where Hunter lives.
“Oof!” My back hits a large cherry blossom tree, and Arthur has me pressed up against it. Fucking dammit.
“C’mon, Dirk. Just suck my dick. We’ll call it even. Otherwise, I’m gonna dip.”
Fucking, cocksucking, motherfucker. I’m gonna rip this guy a new one, is what I’m gonna do.
I don’t get the chance.
The low rumble hits my chest before I see him, the deep, thunderous growl of his bike crawling up my spine. Every hair on my body rises as a familiar motorcycle pulls up—Trav, riding it like it’s a warhorse. Before I can take a second breath, Trav’s off his bike, ripping the guy off me.
Crack!