Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Dirk
Hours later, I’m sprawled across Trav, hair damp, body heavy and sated. That was intense, maybe the most intense Trav and I have ever been. I can still feel his cock in me even though it’s out of me, something I’m hoping will change as soon as he’s able. I like keeping his cock warm in my ass.
Fumbling, I search out his hand and lace my fingers with his.
“Let’s never do that again,” I say.
“Which part? The fighting, the being apart because of the fighting?”
“Wish I could say both, but I know we’ll fight again. The being apart because of fighting.” I can’t change being apart because of the hockey season, but that’s different. I wish we could lie here like this forever and never talk about what we need to talk about.
Trav brushes his thumb over my lips. “I’m not gonna do it,” he says.
“Y-You’re … not? Why?”
“You, pretty boy.”
“You’re not making any fucking sense, Trav. Dash. The scratch-post arms. His nightmares.”
He winces. “Yeah, I know, but I can’t trade his safety for yours. That’s just not on the table anymore. Honestly, it never was, once I got my head out of my ass and realized that’s what I was doing. Any way you can forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, jackass.” But as the words come out, something in my chest twists, hard, and relaxes.
“You bury her deep, baby. So deep. Thoughts you keep chained in the basement.”
Her? Mom. Is he for real? I can’t believe he’s bringing her up right now. I shake my head. “No.” My voice is steady. Calm. But he’s unearthed something, and my insides unravel like coiled rope. He holds me tighter.
As if he knows I’m trying to catch my breath, he carries on. “I’m coming with you, on the road this season.”
“You are?”
He nods. “There’s some paperwork I can apply for to get me across the border. I don’t know if it’ll get approved, but I’m gonna try. If not, I’ll be with you for every Canadian travel date.”
“But Dash won’t even be with us for the first part of the season. If your plan is to serve as his bodyguard, it’ll be hard to do with him traveling with Vancouver.”
“Then guess that means I’m doing this to be with you.” His strong fingers thread through my hair.
“Now I’m hella confused, babe.”
“I wanted to play bodyguard, but I can’t fight off the whole damn world—as much as I’d like to.
I can’t chase every shadow for Dash. And I was acting like I was the only one who could keep him safe.
It’s different from before. He’s got a whole crew this time around.
I’ve got to learn to lean on them and get creative about watching over Dash.
I don’t need to revert to old patterns.”
I try to get close to him, snuggling into him some more, but I’m already as close as I can get.
I can’t believe he’s doing this for me. It was the right move.
Everything inside me feels put back together.
I close my eyes, letting the tranquility of the moment sink in.
Being away from him was hell. Like someone had carved out my insides and left me raw.
I still feel the bruises, but his warm body’s healing them away.
“You really don’t want to talk about her at all, eh?”
I shake my head, and that’s all I have to say about that one.
“It’s just … I think it’s tied to the thing with your broth—”
“Travis.”
He huffs. “Fine, but I’m treating it as a landmine, just so you know. I’ll step around it until you’re ready to disarm it.”
Dash and Stacey insisted on a family barbecue. Fuckers just wanna see me and Trav together in the open, even though they know how much we hate being under the microscope.
“Do I need to remind you of all the lies and secrets?” Dash reminded us when we tried—desperately—to get out of it.
I didn’t feel as bad as Trav did, but because he did, I got roped into it.
So here I am over the grill at the house, flipping ribs, sipping on an ice-cold Corona.
Trav sneaks behind me, slipping a hand into my jeans pocket, curling his body around me.
My skin heats from the inside, eyes darting to where I know Dash and Stace are sitting on the backyard furniture near the fire pit.
I wanted this, exactly this, being able to show our relationship off, but I didn’t expect to feel shy.
As if Trav can sense my newfound shyness, he holds me tighter. “Let’s make ‘em regret forcing this on us.”
A smile breaks across my lips as a shiver shoots up my neck right where his lips press themselves to my collarbone.
“Holy fucking shit,” Dash says. “Never seen you smile like that, Dirk. Still can’t believe it’s my dad who puts it there, but I’m glad it’s there.”
He leans against Stacey, and they stare at us as if we’re some kinda show. The novelty of us doesn’t wear off after one night of ribs and beer, but it’s a good first introduction.
We don’t bother hiding ourselves at work anymore, either.
Not that we’ve been all that good at it anyway.
Penny wins the staff bet about us, and other than that, it’s a non-event with our co-workers.
The hostees comment that they’ve been shipping us for a while, and when Trav kisses me hello in the kitchen, we get adoring stares until Trav clears his throat and tells them to get back to work.
It’s only in public, outside our circle, that we’ve been given a few disapproving looks, but I don’t give a fuck about what strangers think of us, and neither does Trav.
Only Hunt, who I still haven’t told. But I’ve got to suck it up. Everyone else knows.
This bubble’s just been so nice. I got to say the words “my boyfriend” in casual conversation. Hell, I got to be the “my boyfriend” when one of the bartenders told Trav we were running low on our house red wine.
“Tell my boyfriend,” he’d said. “He’s doing the next bar order.” It gave me all kinds of warm and fuzzy feels.
Trav decides he’s driving me to and from work when I insist on going home, because, yeah, I do actually go home with the increase in summer events, and packing.
Despite having a lot of shit to do in a short amount of time, everyone’s gotten nostalgic, needing “just one more” party night at the house before there are no more.
Even I’ve got an uncharacteristic pit in my stomach, feeling the need to be there.
“I can take an Uber, Trav,” I tell him. He can’t stay long this time. A manager called in sick, so he’s doing the dinner rush.
“Absolutely fucking not. Do we need to have another chat about it?”
It’s part of Trav’s whole thing, and he’s said he woulda been doing it sooner if we weren’t a secret.
He claims there aren’t many ways he can take care of me, so he’s gonna find them and they’re non-negotiable.
He won’t even be teased about it. I commented that it must be an old person’s brand of chivalry or something.
I got tossed over his knee, and his hand told my ass that kind of commentary wouldn’t be tolerated, not for this.
“No chat needed, babe.”
He drops a kiss on my lips. “Good. I’ll get our jackets.”
Good. Yeah, right. He loves spanking my ass.
The restaurant’s quiet before the rush. Only one table of regulars at the back and a few staff members milking the clock. I know it when I see it—guilty of it myself in my younger years.
Travis returns with our jackets, immediately helping me into mine, and because he can’t seem to keep his hands or lips off me, ever, he plants a sweet kiss on my forehead.
That’s the moment Hunter walks through the door.
We all freeze. Did he, uh, did he see that? What are the chances he didn’t? Judging by the look on his face, zero chance.
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. I’ve been so wrapped up in Trav and everything else, I haven’t gotten back to him in a few days.
He worries. Sometimes when he worries, he drops by.
This is what I get for being a fucking coward.
Karma. The universe intervening on my ass.
Oh, how I would have loved to put this off forever.
I have a block with Hunter, and I can’t seem to access it no matter what I do.
“Look, Hunt, I—”
Hunter shakes his head. “I fucking knew it. Knew it.”
“Hunt. Sit down, we’ll talk about—”
“No. Get your ass in my truck. You’re coming home.
We’ll talk about it there, and that’s where you can spend what’s left of the summer.
” The room bends toward him. My brother’s an imposing fucker.
It’s moments like this, when you can see his hard life written into the depths of his dark eyes.
He didn’t even have to raise his voice to render me incapable of forming an audible response.
My tongue trips over words like, “yeah, I mean, no, I mean … Hunt.”
“Now, Dirk.”
He takes a step toward me. I know Hunter won’t hurt me, which is why I don’t flinch. The most he’d do is grab me by the neck and frog march me to the truck.
I’m sure Trav knows it too, but he’s a lion. Sudden movements that could be perceived as threats to what’s his set off his instincts. He steps between me and Hunter, planting a hand on his chest.
“You need to step back.”
“You need to date someone your own age.”
“Hunt, motherfu—” I bite off the curse word when Hunter glares. I can’t help it.
“Do you know him, Dirk? Really know who he is?” Hunter says. “He’s a fucking criminal.”
Trav stands taller, unwilling to be ashamed of his past, which is new. Normally, he’d curl in on himself, get smaller.
“I was,” Trav admits.
“No. Not happening. Not on my fucking watch. C’mon, Dirk. I’m not tellin’ you a third time.”
Fuck. Fuck! This is the moment, the big one where I tell him I’m with Trav, I’m a goddamn adult, and it’s my choice who I’m with.