CHAPTER FORTY
Dom had been drunk for the better part of the past five days.
Shea should probably be disgusted because he’d had far more beer and far fewer showers than he should have since their Cup win in LA, but all he could do was smile at Dom as he held out a hand.
“C’mon,” he shouted. “I want you to join me!”
So Shea hopped onto the float with some of the players and SAPs.
It had been a whirlwind since their win.
Shea had been there when Matty and Nico had sprayed Dom with Champagne and Dom had grabbed a bottle and poured it over Colton’s head, laughingly pushing him into the spotlight.
Shea had let Dom drunkenly drag him into a storage closet in LA’s arena and kiss him senseless, then drop to his knees and suck Shea’s cock.
He’d heard Dom’s voice go hoarse from all of the screaming as they returned to Toronto.
He’d watched the team, drunk out of their minds as they moved from bar to bar, but still thinking of ways to include Felix, despite the fact that he was a year and a half into his sobriety and hadn’t tasted a drop of alcohol.
Shea had gone to work, only to be sent home by his boss.
“Go,” Vinny had said, laughing. “This is a once in a lifetime thing. Celebrate with your boyfriend!”
So he’d let himself get swept along with the celebrations and now, he watched proudly as the float moved along the parade route, the Cup being passed from player to player, listening to the crowds roar every time someone lifted it into the air.
He watched Dom give a speech, moving and eloquent, despite the countless drinks that had gone down his throat.
And he’d thought that, well, even if he’d never win a Cup for himself, even if he’d never gotten the chance to play pro hockey, tasting a little bit of Dom’s joy was enough.
“Congrats, man.” Travis Rogers held out a hand after the parade was over, one of many Toronto celebrities who had come to the celebration.
Dom shook. “Thanks. Sorry to hear about your loss.”
Travis shrugged at the mention of the Titans getting knocked out of their playoffs. “You win some, you lose some.”
Dom wondered if it was his imagination or if Travis’ gaze flicked over to Shea who was deep in conversation with Charlie about something.
But before Dom could wonder long, he was swept away by his teammates as they streamed away from the parade, piling into cars driven by sober people, thank God.
“Where are we going now?” he asked, listing against Matty’s shoulder as someone—Jonah—crammed in beside him.
“Party at Pat’s!”
“Fuck. I thought we already did that.” The days were kind of blurring together but he would swear he remembered puking in their GM’s bushes at one point.
“Nah, that was the last Cup win, dude.” Matty smiled a little drunkenly.
“Hey. We’re lucky, you know?” Dom said thickly.
Matty nodded and kissed his hair. “We sure are, bud.”
Later that night, Dom peeled away from the crowd drunkenly singing karaoke around the pool, waving Shea off when he shot him a worried look.
He’d been thinking all day about doing this and he’d finally worked up the courage to follow through.
He found a quiet corner of the yard, away from the worst of the noise and shakily called the number. It was either very late in France or very early but he was a little too drunk to do the math.
“Bonjour. Qui est-ce?” A woman’s voice answered after several rings.
“Mom?” he whispered.
“Dominique?” Her voice filled with hope. “C’est si bon d’entendre ta voix. Comme tu m’as manqué.”
“Slow down, slow down,” he begged, though he’d caught little fragments of what she’d said. That it was good to hear his voice. That she’d missed him. But he was so rusty now. “Je n’ai pas parlé fran?ais depuis des années, Maman.”
“I am sorry,” she said, sounding like she was laughing and crying at once. “I never thought I’d hear from you again.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I thought you were angry at me.”
“Non. I could never be angry at you. Je t’aime.”
“I love you too,” he whispered. “Can I … I’m taking my boyfriend to Paris later this summer. Can we come visit you? I’d like you to meet him.”
“Oh! Please. Please. When will you be here?” She sounded so excited his heart clenched.
“I don’t have exact dates yet. He’ll have to take time off work and I wanted to see—to be sure you wanted us there first.”
“Yes. You will come,” she said softly. “We’ll drink wine and we’ll talk and I will meet your boyfriend.”
“I’d like that,” Dom whispered, wiping at his eyes. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Have you eaten anything?” Shea asked Dom a while later.
He sat on the grass at Shea’s feet, shirtless, one arm draped over Shea’s thigh as he guzzled down a bottle of water because Shea had pressed it into his hand and ordered him to drink it.
“This morning? I think?” Dom said, crumpling the plastic and tossing it aside.
Shea laughed because yes, he’d fed Dom a hearty breakfast to soak up the copious quantities of beer he knew he’d be drinking.
Shea had seen someone passing out sandwiches before the parade but he hadn’t actually seen Dom eat one and Jesus, Shea should know how bad hockey players were at taking care of themselves but this week had driven that point home.
“Here.” Shea passed him the plate of food he’d gotten for himself. “Eat.”
Dom ate, seemingly content to watch the celebrations continue while he shoveled food in. He appeared to be buzzed at the moment, happy and not entirely focused.
Shea loved that his hair was a rumpled mess and that he had a little bit of a sunburn from the parade this afternoon. It was the Dom Shea knew and loved, but the freest, most casual version of him he’d ever seen.
A Dom unburdened by pain or pressure. There was no fear or sadness, only joy.
“Love you,” he whispered, combing through Dom’s wild hair.
Dom beamed up at him, a breadstick still in his mouth. Shea snorted and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his head. He was so messy and Shea was never going let him live it down.
“You stay here,” he said. “Until you finish your food. I have to find a bathroom and then see if Charlie needs any help wrangling the other guys.”
Dom let out a grumble but nodded so Shea extricated himself from Dom’s grip and nodded at Natasha, who sat nearby with Jordan’s head in her lap, half-asleep or half-passed out, Shea wasn’t sure.
She smiled and nodded back, like she knew that he was asking her to keep an eye on Dom too.
All of the guys seemed to be winding down a little, tired after days of celebrating and the hot sun of the parade.
Matty and Nico were still going strong but Shea wasn’t sure if that was the drinking or their general zeal for life.
The multitude of kids, worn out from the parade and swimming all day, had all gone home with people Shea assumed were nannies or babysitters and Matty currently had a laughing Antoni slung over his shoulder as he carried him toward the pool.
Shea ducked into the house, waving vaguely at people he probably should know the names of but had already forgotten since he met them a few days ago. He was pretty sure he’d met everyone from the organization twice.
He spotted Kate talking to someone, though she didn’t see him, and he went down a hallway in search of a bathroom.
He pulled open a door to find Jesse Webber making out with someone in a laundry room and shut it again. The second door revealed a linen closet.
On his third try, he found a bathroom and used it.
As he left, he wiped his slightly damp hands on his shorts, smelling faintly of citrus from the soap, then turned and came face to face with Birdie glaring at an older man who had his back to Shea.
“Get away from me, you creep. Even if I were into you, which I’m definitely not, I’m with Colton,” she said with a scowl.
“Oh fuck, really?” the guy muttered. “I thought you were one of the puck bunnies running around here.”
Shea frowned. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Gross. Birdie seemed tough but he definitely wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure the guy had left her alone.
“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” Birdie made a face. “A: don’t ever call women that again, you asshole. And B: you work for the team. How do you not know what your players’ partners look like? Colton and I have been together for years.”
She stepped sideways and the guy listed in that direction like he was trying to stop her.
“Ahh, how would I know? All you blondes look alike anyway,” he slurred, reaching out to her. “Besides, you just like a man with a fat wallet and I’ve got that.”
“Fuck you!” Birdie snapped. “And get your hands off me, you jerk.”
“What on earth is going on here?” Kate snapped and Shea turned to see her glaring at the man.
Birdie brushed past him, walking over to stand between Shea and Kate. “This jackass was hitting on me!”
The guy turned and Shea’s mouth dropped open. He should have known.
“Jesus Christ, Mark,” Kate spat. “Your behavior is disgusting . You were already reprimanded about what happened at the gala but this is it. I’m speaking to the ownership group about having you removed from your position.”
Fury filled Shea at the sight of Mark Goodwin. Of course it was the same creep who had stalked Audra after she broke things off with him.
Mark babbled something, but as Shea opened his mouth to ask Kate if she wanted Mark removed from the premises, someone else came around the corner.
Mitchell Nash.
“Birdie? Kate? What’s going on?” he asked with a frown.
Kate scowled. “I’m afraid your father is very drunk and making an ass of himself. He made a pass at Birdie and didn’t seem inclined to take no for an answer.”
Mitchell’s expression turned horrified. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Birdie.”
“It’s not your fault! He’s the one to blame.”
“Yeah, but I should have warned you.” Mitchell shot his father a disgusted look. “He’s always been an asshole. He cheated on my mom for years .”
Birdie sighed. “Well, we don’t exactly choose our family.”
“You should be more grateful to me, son. I got you this job!” Mark said, stumbling a little and bumping into the wall.
“No you fucking didn’t!” Mitchell shouted. “I got it! Because I worked my ass off. Why do you think I go by Nash at work? I didn’t want anyone to know I was related to you. You’re an embarrassment.”
“You think you’re so much better than me,” Mark slurred. “But you’re not. You’re fucking that man and letting him buy you shit. It’s disgusting.”
“Shut up! Mitchell is nothing like you,” Birdie snapped. “He’s a good person.”
But Mitchell’s face went white and he staggered back, sliding along the wall until he was seated on the floor.
He buried his face in his hands and let out a choking noise.
“Mitchell?” Birdie said, crouching down beside him. “What’s going on?”
He lifted a stricken face to meet hers. “I’m not. I’m not a good person, Birdie. I’m the one who’s been leaking stuff to JockGossip .”