Chapter 35
Austin
I skate off the ice with my head down. Drake, the last person I expect, throws his arm around me.
“He’ll be fine. We will make sure of it,” he says in a low voice.
It’s understood that ‘he’ is Gray. I’m playing like shit.
If this were a tryout, I wouldn’t make an AHL team.
I grab my water bottle and focus on the game.
My problem is that my mind wanders to Gray and the fact that he barely answers my calls and hardly texts back.
He’s spiraling, and I’m thousands of miles away.
The second period ends, and we’re behind by one. Drake steers me into an empty video room instead of the locker room.
“I’ve watched my man self-destruct. The best thing you can do is keep your head in the game. If he sees you stumble, he’s going to blame himself, and it will make everything worse.” Drake speaks with the sincerity of a man who has lived it. Lucky’s addiction tore him apart.
“I’m trying.” My voice sounds weak and pathetic.
“The team is here for both of you. Lean on us.” He up-nods to the door, and we enter the quiet locker room. Normally, I would give an inspirational pep talk, but Liska bangs his stick and does it for me. If goalies could be captains, he would be ours. That thought hurts more than it should.
The team rallies, but I’m a detriment instead of a help. I miss a pass from Drake, trip before a shot on goal, and lose the puck three times. I have zero points in this game, and although the team fights back, we lose by a goal.
As soon as we get back to the locker room, I dial Gray. No answer. It’s possible he’s talking to the coaches or Doc, but he doesn’t send a text stating he’ll call me back.
The only good thing is we’re heading home in the morning. I need to see Gray in person and hold him in my arms.
No one argues with me when I say I’m skipping the team dinner. My stomach rumbles in protest, but I’m not in any condition to be around people. I spoke to my therapist earlier today, and she gave me some coping techniques to stop my perseverating thoughts.
Instead of using the strategies, I call Gray for the fifth time. My chest tightens when I get his voicemail. My thoughts get darker, and I imagine the worst. He’s alone in our apartment and hurting.
The lawsuit is weighing on him. If it would help, I’d pay it so he wouldn’t have to worry, but neither he nor his lawyer will agree to it. It’s eating him alive.
Gray’s in survival mode, and I’m not with him. The insane thought he might be hurt rears up and takes over my mind.
My head swims, and it’s hard to breathe. There’s a knock at my door along with the low voices of my friends. But I’m paralyzed and can’t even call out to them. My survival instinct kicks in, and I drag myself to the door.
Suddenly, I’m surrounded by people. Benz and King guide me back to the bed. Benz’s fingers dig into my jaw, and I’m staring at King’s concerned aqua eyes.
“Breathe with us. There is plenty of oxygen in the room. Inhale.” Everyone in the room takes an audible breath in.
“Hold, one, two, three, four, five, and exhale.” It sounds like a bunch of balloons losing their air.
“You’re doing good. Let’s do it again.” King leads me through the exercise five more times, as if it’s a team participation activity.
“There’s our captain.” Benz flops next to me when my breathing becomes normal.
“You’re always here for us, and now it’s our turn,” King says.
“We brought dinner.” Lucky holds several bags in the air. “Nothing fancy, just subs.” He and Drake pass them out.
I didn’t think I could eat, but my stomach insists. “Thank you,” I say lamely.
“Ve are here for you,” Liska announces as if it’s a decree of law.
My phone rings with Gray’s song, and I lunge for it. “Hey. How are you? Everything okay? Where were you?” I ask without taking a breath.
My teammates, my friends, pack up their subs and quietly leave my room before I can protest.
“Yeah. Sorry to worry you. I took a long shower after watching the game.” His voice is small, and I want to protect him from the world. “Are you okay?” His question heavily implies I’m not okay.
“Had a bad night for sure,” I admit. “I’ll bounce back,” I say with false cheer.
“Tinny,” he whispers. “I need honesty, not a press answer.”
The silence stretches between us as long as the miles.
“Can’t wait to be home. It’s hard when you’re not here. I’m worried about you.” That’s as honest as I’m willing to be. It won’t do either of us any good to replay my panic attack.
“I miss you too. Don’t let my situation hurt your game.” He moves and there’s a creaking sound from the couch.
“Get in bed, and I’m video calling you so we can fall asleep together. Plug your phone in so it doesn’t die.” I intend to watch him sleep and hear him breathe until morning.
His warm brown eyes hold so much uncertainty I wish I could crawl through the phone. We prop our phones up so it’s like looking at each other from the next pillow.
“Hi, Sunshine.” I focus on his face and block out all the negativity.
“Tinny,” he murmurs, and sweeps his hair back. I like it spilling all over his face as if he were here and I could touch him.
“I’m coming home to you,” I say, and a smile brightens his face. I exhale and give him a rundown of the locker room antics to entertain him.
My eyes get heavy, but so do his. I talk so much that he falls asleep first. His lashes rest on his cheeks, and he’s so peaceful. I’m determined to give him that while he’s awake.
I barrel through the apartment door, yelling for Gray. He stands from the couch, and even with the dark circles under his eyes and matted hair, he is so beautiful. Dropping my bag, I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck, inhaling his warm sweetness.
“I stink. Thought you’d be another hour.” He sags into me.
“Skipped the crap and came straight to you.” I’m usually the last one to leave, making sure everyone has their miscellaneous belongings and answering questions. Today, I bolted.
He palms the back of my head with a shaky hand. “We should talk.”
We should, but first I’m reminding him of why we’re so good together. “After a shower.” I lead him to our bathroom. It’s no longer mine; it’s ours. Everything is ours.
“Sorry the place is a mess,” he mumbles as I start the shower.
“The neat police are giving you a pass,” I say, but he winces. He had to go back to the police station for questioning again, and I should shut the hell up.
We’ve said sorry to each other so many times that I don’t say it again. I strip off the shirt he’s been wearing for three days and get him naked and under the warm water. After taking off my clothes, I join him in a full-body hug.
“Tinny.” His voice cracks as I hold him tighter.
“I’m not letting go,” I assure him.
“But—”
“Shhh.” I press my mouth to his. “Let me wash you, and then we’ll talk.”
Gray agrees and I wash every inch of his body with my mouth trailing along his newly clean parts. Water runs over his head, turning his hair into a dripping curtain.
“If you keep that up, you’ll make me a mess again,” he says as I kneel in front of him and tongue the head of his cock.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask and get a genuine grin that I haven’t seen in weeks.
“I know better than to challenge you.” He runs his fingers through my hair.
“I accept anyway.” I swallow him down, and his moan helps me relax.
He tastes incredible, and I devour him as if I’ll never get my mouth on him again. My fingers tease his balls and hole. When I press his rim, he shouts my name and comes down my throat.
Gray goes weak in the knees, and I support him. He tries to reciprocate, but the water is getting chilly, and I tug him onto the bathmat to dry him off.
He seems like he wants to protest, but I speak first. “I’ve wanted to lie next to you naked in bed the entire week. Get your sexy ass in bed and make my dreams come true.” I smack his ass and ignore the haunted expression on his face.
We have to talk, but if I know him, he’s going to want to leave me, and I have to convince him not to.
Once I’m wrapped around him, he speaks. “Tinny, this isn’t going away. My lawyer predicts they’re going to drag it out to bankrupt me into an admission of guilt.”
“But that won’t happen because you’re working, and even if you weren’t, I won’t allow it. I love you.” His pride won’t allow him to live with me rent free, but I’m not letting him go. We have to find a compromise.
“It’s affecting your game, your career. I can’t weigh you down.
” He snuggles closer, clutching me, and his desperation scares me.
“Dumas is a trust-fund baby and will do anything to save face. It wasn’t a coincidence I got served while you were away.
My lawyer thinks they are trying to build a case against me and have hired private detectives. ”
“That’s insane. Your lawyer is exaggerating.” This is not the plot of some crazy book.
“It’s worst-case scenario, but Dumas wants to be drafted and can’t afford the label of false accuser.”
“I’m not trying to argue, but teams have drafted guys with way worse pasts.” The league is improving its image, but this is less than a bar fight. “You promised not to leave me.” I’m afraid of where this conversation is going.
“What if I took a vacation and went to see my family? I won’t leave you, but maybe if Dumas assumes he ran me out of the city, he’ll back off.” He lifts his face, and I hate the pain in his bottomless eyes.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whisper. “It’s selfish, but I need you with me.”
“Two weeks. I’m paranoid and going crazy in this apartment. I’ll go see my family and bring you back maple cookies.” His forefinger smooths out my eyebrows.
“You have to answer my calls and texts. No avoiding me.”
“Tinny, I’ll talk to you so much you’ll be sick of hearing my voice.”
“Never,” I say and he falls asleep. I have to get off the bench and into the action of our life. I won’t sit back and watch the man I love destroyed by a child having a tantrum in the press. A plan forms and it gives me a sliver of hope.