Chapter 21
Dylon
L ars kisses the side of my head. “Breathe, you got this.”
Hosting a dinner is more stressful than I imagined, and although the guys have my back, I’m nervous.
“Get all your kisses out now,” I warn, grabbing his belt loop and tugging him to me. “Unless you wanna put on a show for the team.” There’s a flash in his eyes, and he might be down for that. We lose ourselves in each other as his tongue reverently brushes mine. His kisses are sweet and sultry, the perfect combination, an expression of his adoration and intent on getting me naked.
The buzzer rings, and we jump apart.
“You look thoroughly debauched.” Lars finger-combs my hair, gives up, and jams my hat on my head. “Luckily, your lips always look sinful and red.”
Of course, my dick gets hard, and the buzzer rings again. “I’ll get the door. You put on different pants.” I eye the tent he’s sporting.
Patrik doesn’t get a word in as his fiancé orders us around as soon as I open the door. “We ran into the food delivery.” He waves at Patrik, who is holding several boxes of food. “In the kitchen?” he asks, sweeping by me. “Honey, you don’t have serving dishes out.”
“I thought we’d serve ourselves from the containers?” I ask it as a question even though it’s my plan.
“Men.” Trevor rolls his eyes, and Patrik chuckles.
“Now you’ve done it,” Patrik says under his breath as he passes me .
Trevor could moonlight as a party planner if his fashion line falls through. But I admit, his touches create the picture of an adult dinner party instead of a bunch of dudes eating at the same location.
“This is why we came early.” Trevor lifts onto his tippy toes and kisses Patrik, who grabs him around the waist.
They’re so in love, it’s inspiring to witness them unguarded and open with their affection. I glance at Lars but can’t understand his expression. It’s wistful, like it’s something he’s not allowed to have.
Patrik baked his famous chocolate lava cake, and Trevor gets all goo-goo-eyed when he talks about it.
More guests arrive, and sweat drips down my back. Today is the anniversary of the day I committed to my recovery. The anniversary of my overdose was a couple of weeks ago, but this marks the day I realized I had a problem and pledged to fix it.
Ace and Gray arrive and, when asked about their wardrobe choices, get into an argument about who had to change. They squabble like an old married couple.
“The party has arrived,” Caleb announces, handing me a bunch of flowers. “These are from both of us.” He gestures to Mason. “But someone thinks you can show up empty-handed.” Mason doesn’t look convinced. Fortunately for me, Trevor grabs the flowers and finds a makeshift vase.
“At least you’re not the only one he brings flowers to.” Patrik smacks Trevor’s ass.
Mason sticks like glue to Caleb, and I have mixed feelings about Mason. He’s a great guy and a solid teammate, but he slotted into my place while I was out. It stings and it’s not rational to resent him. Mason has dreams and demons of his own, and my issues are irrelevant to him. Recovery is about responsibility, and my addiction led to my removal from the game and his success in my absence. Someone had to step up. But sometimes it’s difficult to be grateful.
Jamal quietly enters and sits on the couch with a look that says he’s not sure how he got here. As a rookie, he’s killing it, but he keeps himself apart from the team. Lars and I talked about including him more, but now I’m second-guessing my decision to include him in my trauma dump. Hopefully, it doesn’t devolve into that, but the more I talk, the less my filter works.
“Hey, thanks for coming.” I lean on the arm of the couch next to where he sits.
His head bobs in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t say anything.
“We had a great game, huh,” I say as he takes in everyone talking around him and continues to nod. “Crazy when the Zamboni ran over that player, though.”
“So crazy,” he says, confirming that this might be too much for him. “Wait. What did you say?” His head swings to me with narrowed eyes.
I immediately realize it seems I’m making fun of him, and I crouch so he’s looking down on me, giving him a position of power. “Anxiety’s an issue both Lars and I have dealt with, and we’re a lot.” I motion to everyone. “We try not to haze the rookies, but we give each other shit, and if you’re here, you’ll catch some of it. Are you okay with that?” For all I know, his grandma’s in the hospital, and I’m making a big assumption. I don’t know shit.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Thanks for the invite.”
I stand and smack his shoulder. “Code word Zamboni when you’re ready to bail.” I grin when he shakes his head like I’m ridiculous, but I think he’s more at ease.
We don’t have a dining area like in Patrik’s insane condo so everyone sits at the island and around the coffee table.
To keep it low key, we got barbeque from my favorite place, hockey highlights play in the background, and our friends yell over each other.
Once everyone has their fill, I turn off the TV and get boos.
“Listen up! Dylon has something to say,” Lars barks, and I love his bossy side. Lars lifts his arm and, for a second, I think he’s going to touch me, but he doesn’t.
But then all eyes swing to me, and my stomach does an Olympic level triple-double gymnastic tumble. I’m standing in the middle of the room unmoored. But a chin nod from Lars gives me courage.
“It’s a big day for me, and I wanted to share it with you guys.” I inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Last year y’all know I injured my shoulder, and after a pickup game, I was hospitalized. If you heard rumors, they were probably partially true because I was addicted to my pain meds and accidentally overdosed.” There’s no judgment on their faces, but Trevor’s teary-eyed.
“I was extremely lucky.” I bark out a laugh at my nickname. “Jayce’s boyfriend had Narcan, and Lars administered it. The EMT told him I’d most likely be dead without it. I owe Lars my life. He hauled me out of hell and won’t let me go back. Thank you,” I say and hope he understands I can’t express how my heart beats solely for him.
“Holy shit,” Caleb says and gets an elbow from Mason.
“I didn’t believe I had a problem, but part of the team’s requirement for me to stay on the roster was a mandatory rehab program. If you’re wondering, the misconduct clause in our contracts encompasses a lot so don’t fuck around. They can boot your ass.” There are a few nervous laughs. “Anyway, a couple of weeks into the program, I saw the light or the error of my ways, however you want to describe it, and dedicated myself to breaking the cycle of substance abuse. And today I’m more than a year sober.” I hold up my cup containing a sports drink.
“Cheers to you.” Caleb holds up his bottle of water, then rushes me, and gives me a bear hug, lifting me a couple of inches off the floor.
Everyone follows his lead and slaps my back or gives me the one-arm bro hug. The enormous weight I have been carrying lifts, and I can breathe for the first time in a long time. I had no idea how much the secret had been weighing me down.
Jamal approaches but doesn’t touch me like everyone else. “That was brave. Congratulations.” His serious expression doesn’t waver. “The team needs you, and I’m glad you got help.” He spins away before I can respond, but I appreciate his heartfelt words.
Austin cuts the cake and passes it out. We stand behind the island together, and when Lars joins us, he hooks his arms around our shoulders. “This is priceless.”
“Thanks,” I say but see a little hurt in Austin’s eyes. “I was too ashamed to tell anyone. I wouldn’t have told Lars if he wasn’t there, and that means I wouldn’t be here right now. Either because my addiction got me or the team released me for noncompliance.”
“I can’t imagine playing without you.” Austin’s brow scrunches.
“You did just fine.” I lift my chin in Mason’s direction.
“Griff is good, but he’s not you. He’ll never be you to me,” Austin says.
That’s exactly what I needed to hear right now. We’re more than hockey, we’re a family. You don’t replace a member of your family, but you can add to it.
Caleb sidles up, looking for more cake, and his face falls, seeing the plate of crumbs. “I could use one of Trevy’s emergency chocolate bars now.”
“Stop calling my fiancé that!” Patrik growls with his arms wrapped around Trevor.
“I’m just sayin’ he’s got great taste in chocolate.” He turns his back on Patrik with a grin, knowing he’s an instigator.
Jamal hollers, “Zamboni,” and heads for the door.
“Thanks again for coming.” I chuckle as our confused teammates look from the closed apartment door to me. People trickle out after that.
Once everyone’s gone home, Lars pulls me toward his room. “You’re sleeping with me tonight unless you have an objection.”
“Nope. Not a single one.” I love his hands on me and don’t take for granted that I’m the only one he likes to touch. It reminds me I matter and am special to him. “Thanks for helping me put this together.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He takes my cap off and tosses it on the dresser.
“We both know that’s not true. I meant what I said. I’ve thanked you, but you’re my rock and there will never be enough ways to show you.” I’m beholden with gratitude.
“Then why don’t you get to showing me.” He tugs my shirt, and I raise my arms so he can pull it over my head.
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh? Now you’re gonna be all demanding.” My fingers find his skin under his shirt.
“It is nothing new. But it’s better knowing you like it as much as I do. ”
“You know…” I unbutton his jeans. “We’re on a winning streak, so you know what that means?”
“Tell me,” Lars breathes in my ear, and I quake with impatience.
“We’re obligated to continue sleeping together and getting each other off before the games. It’s for the good of the team,” I say innocently.
“I will make that sacrifice,” he pauses, “for the team.”