Chapter Nine
TYLER
Six AM. And I’m wide awake.
Lying between Soren and Bax, tucked under the dark comforter, I’m warm and safe. And completely freaking out.
Tonight, I’m playing in a Metros game. And unless something happens, for the foreseeable future, I’m a Metro. They think I’m ready. I hope they’re right.
I sit up, calculating how I can crawl out of bed without disturbing the guys. Lifting the blankets, I inch up my legs, and lift one then the other free of the soft material.
Bax snuffles in his sleep, turning his body toward me. I freeze until he settles. I watched him set his alarm last night, and he still has an hour and a half to sleep. Once he’s breathing deep and even, I scoot down the mattress toward the foot of the bed.
Our clothes are in a pile on the chair by Soren’s desk.
I tug on the plaid pajama bottoms I borrowed from him weeks ago.
Every time I wash them, I intend to give them back, but they’re so soft, and his, and they end up back in my drawer.
Even though my own clothes are here, thanks to the moving company, I like wearing his things.
Instead of grabbing my shirt from the pile, I pull Bax’s hoodie over my head.
Coffee will help. Or make my anxiety worse. Maybe I can borrow one of Sage’s fidget spinners.
I pad upstairs. The house is quiet, no sounds of voices or movement from anywhere.
Maybe it’s too early. I’m not usually awake at this hour.
When I was on the Slash, I’d head into the kitchen around seven-thirty to grab breakfast, then hop in the car with Gio, Phil, and Soren at quarter of eight to carpool to the Slash’s practice facility.
The Metros practices start a bit later, though today, their morning skate isn’t until ten o’clock.
I scoop out coffee and set a large mug in front of the coffeemaker. Spitting and hissing and gurgling, it works its magic. I pace the length of the room, looking out each window, and glancing at the clock.
Six-oh-five.
I could go back downstairs. Or head up to my room.
Going down, I’ll disturb and wake Soren and Bax.
But going up, I’m left alone with my worries, and I don’t want that.
Struck with indecision, I stand in the middle of the kitchen.
The photo of Benny hanging on the refrigerator seems like it’s laughing at me.
Footsteps come from the hallway by the laundry room. “Ty?” Soren shuffles into the room. His blond hair is messy from sleep and my hands running through the strands last night.
Guilt spikes into my chest. “Did I wake you when I got up?”
“I felt the bed move. Thought you were hitting the bathroom. Then heard you on the stairs. Bax mumbled something about getting up to check on you. That you seemed restless during the night. So we rock-paper-scissored to decide who’d come look for you, and I won.”
Laughing, I grab the creamer from the refrigerator. “You did not.”
Smiling, he takes two mugs from the cabinet. His practice day mug and a plain one for guests. “Okay, we didn’t. I said that because I thought it might make you smile.”
“It did.”
He runs his hand down the center of my back. “Was he right? Were you restless?”
“Yeah. Pre-game jitters.”
“We’ll go downstairs so we can all talk.” He pours coffee into my mug before filling the guest mug, then his own last.
Carrying our coffees, we head downstairs. Bax sprawls the length of the mattress on the side closest to the door. He has his arm flung across his face. But when he hears us, he lowers it, and his gaze tracks me. “You okay?”
“Can’t sleep.”
To his credit, he immediately sits up and pats the spot beside him. “Why not?”
I lift my right shoulder in a half-shrug and hand him the mug so I can climb in bed without spilling it. “Too much on my mind.”
He waits until I’m under the blanket to hand me the mug, then slides his arm around me. “You can tell us about it if you want to.”
Soren passes him the guest mug before climbing onto the bed’s other side. “What he said.”
I take a fortifying sip. “Every practice and game, I have a fear in the back of my mind that I could get injured.”
“Every practice and game?” Bax’s eyes widen. “That’s, like, every day.”
I nod. “It started a few years ago. After coming back from one injury only to go out with another one a few days later. Some days, the fear is worse than others. I thought I was managing it pretty well since I got here. But knowing that I’m playing for the Metros tonight, the worrying is turned up about ten levels. ”
Bax kisses my temple. “Is the anxiety due to more than playing?”
“Playing’s a big part of it. My first practice with the team was yesterday.
They put me on a line with Sage and Maxim.
And I’m playing tonight. We don’t know each other’s rhythms well enough yet.
I just wish the learning curve wasn’t so steep or on such a large stage.
” I sip more coffee. “But it’s more than playing too. ”
Soren lays his hand on my thigh. “Going back to what you said when you first came to the Slash, you being with the Metros now is the same newness all over again. Even though you know Sage, Remy, Morgan, Rhys, and a couple of others, it’s still a new team.
A new jersey, new linemates, a new arena and practice facility. ”
“New dynamics. Just when I was feeling like I’d settled into everything with the Slash.” The mug’s heat seeps into my palms. I glance down and realize I’m gripping it way too tight. “I don’t want to feel like I’m a perpetual newcomer.”
“You’re not new with us.” Bax slides closer and his arm slide from my shoulder to my chest so I’m deeper in his embrace.
“Technically, we’re still new. Two months isn’t that long.” I like the security of his hold, the sensuality of his palm against my stomach, and his breath in my ear. “But thank you. I get what you meant.”
Soren tangles our legs together. “We’re here for you and whatever you need.
” His gaze finds Bax, and Bax nods against the top of my head.
“I’ll be with you today, at the skate and at the game.
Coach Grant said the backup is on the mend, so I think I’ll be sent down to the Slash in a few days.
But as long as I’m up with the Metros, I have your back. ”
“I know you do.” I twine my free hand with his.
Bax’s palm smooths over my stomach, slow and soothing in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“I have band practice after work today. We’re polishing a song Layne wrote that we’re performing at Winter Fest. Then we’re playing a set at a bar in Minneapolis.
It’ll be finished by the time your game ends.
I can come over after that. Give you a massage, hear all about your time rocking the purple jersey. ”
“I’d like that.” I press my lips to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath them.
Soren sets his coffee aside then scoots closer, splaying his hand to rest on my hip. Each point of contact communicates that I am most definitely not on my own. “Maybe talk to Sage about how he manages his anxiety. He might have some tips to help you.”
“That’s a good idea.” He’s been open about his struggle with it, and how the housemates and Rhys’s friends help him. I’ve joined in the technique of asking what’s the worst that can happen, and what’s the best that can happen, to help break him out of a spiral.
“I know another way to alleviate anxiety.” Bax sets his mug on the nightstand, then does the same with mine. He turns and slips his other arm around me. “Wanna guess what it is?”
His cock is firm against my thigh. I rock against it, plumping up in my pants.
Soren’s heat is warm at my back, and his cock is as awake as Bax’s.
We trade coffee-flavored kisses as Soren works my shirt off and Bax removes my pants.
Then we’re moving together, hands on cocks, mouths on lips, necks, and chests, stroking, grinding, kissing, chasing pleasure that builds every moment.
It’s hurried and desperate and filled with the affection we all feel for each other. And when I come, clutching Soren and Bax close to me, it’s with their names on my lips and our hearts beating as one.
For the rest of the day, I float on a cloud of endorphins. Since I have my car back, I offer to drive everyone to the arena and a car filled with Soren, Sage, Remy, and Morgan chatting and being ridiculous is funny and keeps me at ease.
The nerves reappear once I’m at the Metros arena and pulling on the jersey, but they’re the typical nerves that come with anticipating playing in front of eighteen thousand people.
Knowing Soren, Sage, Remy, Morgan are here helps.
So does the kiss Soren plants on me as we’re the last two leaving the locker room, following the team walking through the tunnel toward the ice.
Sage, Maxim, and I connect for some great plays, and as the game wears on, I’m able to anticipate where they’ll be.
Early in the third period, we catch Detroit in the middle of a line change.
I race ahead with the puck. Sage rockets past me, heading for the net.
In a spin move I’ve copied from him, I dodge a defenseman and send the puck to Sage. He fires it past the goalie.
The goal light flashes and the siren wails and Sage rushes to hug me. “Nice way to make your mark. Great teamwork.”
Maxim, Rhys, and Remy fly in and pile onto our celebration hug. At the opposite end of the ice, Soren bangs his stick and smiles. The cheering fans and happy teammates celebrating on the bench, and getting an assist on Sage’s goal, are a great way to start my time with the team.
On the drive home, Sage plays with a fidget spinner as we discuss his anxiety and mine.
I’ve found different versions of the spinners in every communal room at the house.
He suggests talking to a therapist or sports psychologist may help me, then gifts me the spinner.
Remy and Morgan say they have both worked with one, and Soren’s hand rests on my thigh in silent support.
Phil and Gio are waiting for us when we get home. The seven of us sit in the kitchen, breaking down the game, and it’s nice to have everyone’s support. With every insight my chest loosens, and the future seems less scary.
Bax arrives, and seeing him here to make sure I’m okay, means so much. After chatting about his set and the band’s prep for the festival, we bid the others goodnight and Soren leads us down to his apartment.
The two men slowly take me apart with kisses, a massage, and soft words that make me feel like I’m the center of their world. I’ve never had this before with one man, let alone two. Boyfriends, yes. But people who really see me? Not before now. Not before Bax and Soren.
As the clock turns to midnight, we slide into soft sheets. Snuggled between Soren and Bax, my earlier anxiety is a faint memory.
Maybe I have really found my place here in the Twin Cities with these two teams and these two men.
Maybe this time, nothing, and no injury will stand in my way.