Chapter 15
Fifteen
Sebastian
“Hey buddy, time to get ready for bed,” I say, walking into the playroom and squatting down to Enzo’s level, where he’s putting together a puzzle on the floor. It has dogs on it, of course, because that’s what he wants the theme to be for everything.
“Can I play a little longer?” he asks, hugging Mutt against his chest and kicking his feet.
“You have to take a bath, and then it’s bedtime.
You have school tomorrow, so we’re getting up early, and you’ll have skating practice after that.
Aren't you excited?” I ask, reminding him of his new lessons, hopefully to ease him into the idea of going to bed now in anticipation of his after-school activities.
He looks up with sad eyes. “I’m not good at skating. It’s hard, and the ice hurts when I fall.” I take his hand and pull him up so we can walk to the bathroom.
“I fell a lot when I first started skating, too. It took me a while to get the hang of it, but eventually, I really loved it, and now it’s my job.” He’s been to enough of my games and knows I play hockey professionally, so maybe this will help him like his lessons.
“I don't want to do it anymore. I hate skating,” he says as I start the bath.
Ouch. That’s a blow to the stomach I wasn’t expecting from my four-year-old.
It hurts to hear him say that about something I wanted to share with him.
I began skating at his age and started hockey when I was five.
I was hooked immediately, and it became my life.
It would be amazing if Enzo loved it and followed in my footsteps, but I realize it’s not for everyone, and as much as it’ll suck if he turns it down, I’ll have to be okay with it.
“You agreed to give skating a try, remember?” I remind him.
“We have to follow through when we commit to something. You’re signed up for three months of lessons, so let’s get through those and re-evaluate when the session is over.
If you still hate it, we can put a pause on skating and maybe try it when you’re older.
But we have to keep going to these lessons now so we can show them that when we say we’re going to do something, we do it. ”
I put Enzo in the bath, and he pulls in his bath toys, splashing around and barely listening to me. “I have show and tell tomorrow at school,” he says as he scoops up water with a Hydras souvenir cup and pours it over a herd of plastic animals.
“Oh, yeah?” I say.
I didn't get any warning from the school that it was his turn to share. Usually, they’re pretty good about sending an email or a text to parents.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and open my email just to check.
Sure enough, there’s an email from his school letting me know that he’s up for the honor tomorrow.
As I read further, it says they’re providing special permission for him to bring his puppy to school as long as I can bring it in at eleven-thirty and will stay for the duration of the show and tell session, then remove the dog when it finishes, so they don't have an animal on campus all day.
I look at Enzo as I put my phone away, and he smiles at me.
“Enzo, did you tell the school you’re bringing a dog to share?” I ask.
“Yeah! I told Miss Julie I’m bringing a puppy.”
What the fuck?
“We don't have a puppy for you to bring for show and tell. What dog are you thinking of bringing?” I ask him slowly, reining in my temper so he doesn't know I’m silently freaking out after reading that email.
I have practice until eleven downtown, and his school is thirty minutes away.
Even if we had a dog, I wouldn't be able to get home and get it to him by the time the school allows.
“The Hydras’ puppy. He’s so cute. I want to show the whole class.” Enzo goes back to playing with his toys, oblivious to the mental meltdown I’m experiencing.
“Enzo, buddy, we can’t just borrow the Hydras’ puppy.
It’s not ours to take, and it’s busy. I don't even know what the puppy does when it’s not at events, but it’s not something you can borrow whenever you want,” I say, rubbing a hand across my face and trying to navigate my way through this disaster.
Enzo’s bottom lip pouts out, and his eyes grow glossy before they close, and big tears slide down his cheeks as he cries.
“I just w-wanted to play with the p-puppy again and show the c-class. Miss Julie said it would be o-okay.” He sobs as his idea is crushed, and I’m the one who pulled the carpet out from under him.
How do I explain this better to a four-year-old?
“We can only commit to sharing things that belong to us from now on, okay?” I say as I reach over the tub, smoothing his dark hair back from his wet face, and rubbing his back gently.
“If you want to share your stuffed dog or another toy, we can do that instead because they belong to you. But we wouldn’t be able to share Miss Sally’s sweater because it belongs to her, right?
” I ask, trying to find an example that he might understand.
He nods as he continues to cry. “I just love the puppy so much,” he mumbles through his tears, breaking my damn heart. “I wish it were mine.”
“I know, kiddo. Think of something else you wouldn't mind sharing, and I’ll see if I can find out what the puppy is doing. No promises, because the puppy is very busy and could be out helping someone who needs it and not be available to visit for show and tell.”
He nods, but looks so sad, I hardly think he’ll be in the mood to do show and tell at all if he doesn't get his puppy wish. And just as I was giving him the speech about following through when you commit to something. Fuck, this is an impossible situation.
I get him bathed and ready for bed, reading him more books than usual because I feel extra guilty tonight, and when he finally falls asleep, clutching Mutt extra hard, I leave his bedroom and go straight to the kitchen to pour myself a shot of tequila.
It burns as I throw it back, but I welcome the sting as punishment for not checking my email earlier when I could have solved this issue before eight-thirty at night.
I take another shot and grab a beer, knowing I can’t get drunk tonight or I’ll regret it at practice tomorrow, and head to my bedroom.
I send a text to McKenna, needing to start somewhere on this wild puppy chase.
Sebastian: Hey, McKenna, it’s Sebastian. Sorry to text so late. Enzo is dying to share the Hydras’ puppy with his class tomorrow, and I just found out. Is there any way I could borrow it for like an hour?
It takes a few minutes of silently stewing and sipping my beer, but my phone vibrates with an incoming message.
McKenna: Oh no! I wish I could offer some help.
The puppy’s in a three-week training session and can’t do events right now.
I wanted him for another photo op last week, but it was during an intensive and necessary period of training, so I had to make other plans.
Thank goodness he’ll be back for the first home game later this week!
I hope you figure something out and Enzo gets to be a show and tell star!
Sebastian: Thanks anyway, I appreciate it.
I tap my phone and think of my options. I could reach out to Tucker and see if there’s a way he could bring one of his other dogs by, but that seems super selfish after avoiding him for days.
While I haven't spoken to him, I’ve thought about him plenty.
I keep replaying our conversation in the kitchen over and over, learning he’s gay, and then applying that new information to every interaction we’ve had.
Was he flirting with me when we joked around?
Did he listen to me so intently and let me pour my heart out to him because he saw me as a potential love interest?
What about all the hugs and touches? Everything always seemed platonic and from a place of care and deep understanding, but what if I read the situation wrong?
I feel like I’m a good judge of character, and Tucker seems to be the best sort, so I ultimately have to assume he did everything with a pure heart and because he wanted to help, not with any ulterior motives.
Still, I wonder if he felt anything extra during those moments when we connected.
How did it feel to him when our fingers brushed, or he wrapped me in a deep hug and let me cling to him?
Why did he pull away when we were so close to kissing?
Did he like that I asked him to stay when I was feeling vulnerable and cuddled him?
What would he do if he knew I’ve jacked off to him a few times now?
Yeah, that happened again.
The damn body wash is my Kryptonite, I swear.
As soon as I lather up the soap, it makes me think of Tucker, and I’m suddenly horny as fuck and thinking about him doing obscene things to me.
It only got worse once I learned he’d actually do those things because he likes men, and now my imagination has run wild.
A few showers ago, I was imagining him pressing me into the wall, hand around my cock as he fingered my ass, which was so far from anything I’ve ever imagined before, I ended up coming in seconds, gasping his name.
I was a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, and no one even witnessed my shame.
I’m curious to know more about Tucker. When did he know he was gay?
When did he come out? Does he give or take?
It’s a morbid fascination, and he’s the only one who can answer my questions.
I’ll have to either get over my awkwardness about making him the center of my sexual fantasies and reach out to him, or live with not knowing.
When it comes down to it, I miss the peace and quiet of the woods and the serene comfort being around him gives me.
If I want that, I need to get over myself.