Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
JONAH
“Suite Life, I want you in the net and Bags shooting pucks at your face. Everyone else on passing, or y’all are doing suicides until you fucking die!”
I did my best not to pull a face at the name Bay had given me.
Most people got some variation of their last name turned into something chibi and cutesy.
He’d decided to play some kind of Disney Channel word association with my name and the Jonas Brothers, which was ridiculous since the Jonas Brothers weren’t even in that show, but I also didn’t pretend to understand Bay’s brain.
Luckily, he was a decent captain and would eventually make a good coach one day when Tucker decided to retire, so the best I could do was flip him off—knowing he couldn’t really see it. Bay was severely myopic and way too far across the rink for that kind of detail.
But it was the thought that counted.
“Why do you look like someone’s dog took a shit in your favorite shoes?”
I was not expecting to hear Tucker’s voice. He was still warming up to the coaching thing. This was going to be his first season with the Legends, and while I was glad to keep working with him outside of peewee hockey, he knew way too much of my personal business for my own comfort.
I trusted him not to tell the other guys certain things about me, but it didn’t stop the nerves that he might let something slip.
“It’s nothing.” I tapped the pipes to orient myself in the net, then sank down and listened for the sound of Bay’s skates to settle.
“That’s a lie. I think—fuck!”
I caught Tucker’s swear right as I heard the jingle of the puck hurtling toward me, and I dove, catching it between my ice and the glove. Shifting my body, I pulled my stick back and sent it flying back to Bay.
“This is about what you told Ford, isn’t it? About your mom?”
I didn’t want to deal with her shit right before a game. “Can we not right now?”
“Technically, but—” He went quiet again as another puck flew at me. This one I missed, but it hit the pipe and flew to the left, and I had no fucks to give about chasing it. “I want your head in the game. If you’re going to be missing shots like this—”
“Fuck you. It didn’t go in.”
He sighed loudly, and I heard him use his skate to kick the puck back toward Bay, though it didn’t go far before it rattled to a halt. “You know what I mean.”
“And you know I’m perfectly capable of doing my job tonight, even without unburdening myself or…whatever.” What I really wanted was my pregame sandwich and nap. Practice was nearly over, and if I was lucky, I’d get a solid fifty minutes in before I had to wake up and, well, be professional.
“I know,” Tucker said quietly. He was silent again as Bay shot a few more pucks at me. Only one went in out of five, so I was calling it a win. “You’re my friend, and I give a shit, okay?”
I softened and turned my face up toward him.
“I know. But this crap with my mom isn’t something you can fix.
It’s a pile of bullshit, and I can’t talk to Micah about it because I promised to leave him out of our parents’ drama, and if Caleb thought I was going to utter our dad’s name within a hundred miles of him, he’d block my number. ”
“This shouldn’t all be on you though. You know that, right?”
I did. But also, I didn’t. Being the former golden child, I had a responsibility to protect my siblings from an issue I helped create. I could have stood up to my mom years ago, back when they did. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and continued to make life harder.
They had every right to hate me about it. At least a little.
“I probably just need to get laid.”
Tucker burst into laughter. “I’ll ask Amedeo if he’s met any cute women he can send your way.”
“At this point, find me a voice like Kathleen Turner, and we’ll call it a win.”
“I don’t even know what that means. Anyway, why don’t you take off a bit early?”
My brows flew up. “Playing favorites, Coach?”
“Everyone knows you’re my little prince, Suite Life.”
I bared my teeth. “Call me that again and I will feast on your balls. In a bad way.”
“Love you, babe.” Tucker clapped his hands. “Goalies, go…stretch and eat and nap or whatever you do. Everyone else, five more minutes.”
There was a collective groan, but I appreciated that he didn’t single me out specifically. Even if I was the only goalie tonight because our backup had a pulled hamstring and the guy from farm couldn’t come up for the night.
I made my way to the wall, then felt along with my stick until I reached the exit. My ankles felt shakier than usual, and I related to everyone who moaned about how good it felt to take a bra off at the end of the day the moment I undid the first set of laces.
By the second skate, I was half-hard.
Yeah…I definitely needed to get laid. It had been a while, and while it wouldn’t solve my problems, it would make shouldering them a little easier.
Leaning back on the bench, I shoved my skates into my stall, then felt around for my cane until my fingers snagged the loop.
I had about three minutes before everyone headed into the locker room, and I was in no mood for conversation at the moment.
I was still dealing with the emotional fallout with my mom, and I still hadn’t heard from my dad.
I figured that meant I really had called her bluff and she wasn’t going gallivanting around Europe or whatever the fuck her idea was.
But the fact that she’d tried it at all was under my skin. Half of it was my fault. I set this precedent with her. I was the one who always caved, so of course she thought she’d be able to get away with it this time.
God, I wasn’t the kind of guy who ever wanted kids, but the idea of what kind of grandma she’d be scared my balls up into my body.
My future wife would kill her. Or me. Or both of us.
Standing up, I unfolded my cane, then grabbed my phone out of the top shelf of the stall and made my way out of the locker room. I could go home and snag a nap if I really wanted, but a better option was a massage.
We had a therapist who was around for game days, and I had several knots that could use strong hands.
His name was Yuri, and he was kind. And, if some of the guys with usable vision on the team were right, he was also superhot.
He did have a nice voice—like chocolate and cinnamon—a rich rumble I’d always appreciated.
Not that I was ever into guys, but…
Well.
Okay, not that I’d ever been actively into guys.
The moment Micah came out, I let myself think about whether or not I could be with a man, and the truth was: I could see myself falling for a dude.
I’d never been hung up on the idea of gender.
I’d always just seemed to be with women whenever relationships happened to me.
I didn’t have a crush on Yuri, but I could see myself having a crush on someone like him if the opportunity ever arose.
Not that I was in a place to think about that either. I needed to have a good orgasm or two at the hands of someone else. I didn’t want to be worrying about dating or any of that other shit.
Right now, everything felt off-kilter and unsettled, and I didn’t want to complicate things any more than they already were.
I navigated the corridor with my cane until I came to the PT room and tried the handle, but it was locked. With a heavy sigh, I knocked a few times, but I couldn’t hear footsteps or anyone calling from the other side.
Either Yuri was jerking off, or he was out.
Which left the napping option, and I was absolutely fine with that.
In fact, I—
BZZT BZZT BZZT!
“Unknown number.”
BZZT BZZT BZZT!
“Unknown number.”
Heaving a sigh, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and answered, hoping it was a cold-caller bot so I could take some of my rage out on something that had no human feelings.
“This call had better be someone offering me a shitload of money or to tell me that my archnemesis is dead.”
There was a heavy pause, and then someone cleared their throat. “Do you really have an archnemesis?”
The person—a man, I wanted to assume—had one of those gorgeous, heavy-spiced voices and the hint of an accent that told me he was born somewhere else but probably moved to America when he was young.
“I have several,” I told him. “Who is this, and how did you get this number?”
“Sorry. My name is Alexio.” The name was familiar, but I knew about four guys named Alexio between the NHL and the PPHL, so that didn’t narrow things down. “I’m calling on behalf of my brother, Nikos. I’m not sure if your father ever mentioned him…”
I groaned loudly, unable to stop myself. It was rude, but my reaction was so fucking visceral and unable to be helped. “I haven’t talked to my dad in about a hundred years. So if you’re calling me because he owes you money and he said I’d pay it…”
“No, no,” Alexio said quickly. He had a smile in his voice, but it didn’t last. “Nothing like that, I promise. He comes to my brother’s shop sometimes, but I think today might be one of his…bad days.” He hesitated over the last two words.
“Bad days?”
“Yes. I know he’s…well. At his age, he struggles. Nikos said he thinks he might be having a harder day than usual,” Alexio said, softer this time. “I would take him home myself, but I was just on my way out to a meeting, and I don’t have the time to get him back to his place.”
“Hold your—” I stopped myself from telling this total stranger to hold his balls. Ford would have been so proud. “Hold on.” I rubbed at my eyelids. “What do you mean by any of that?”
Alexio was quiet for a moment. “Well, I’m not sure what his caregiver tells you about us. Honestly, I’ve never met them, so I’m not even sure if they know where he spends his afternoons.”
Fuuuuuck my life. I needed to call my mom. She was the one who was meant to be handling all of this. I had no idea why he was calling me, of all people. Surely my dad had other contacts who would be better than the son who was no longer speaking to him.