Chapter 7 #2
Quickly, beers are plucked from the cases by my teammates.
Gavin reaches into one of the cases and tosses a can to me.
I catch it and crack it open. I take a sip and watch as Gavin is pulled into conversation by the guys and jostled about.
Max Franklin hands him a beer but he never brings it to his lips.
Eventually, I see Bouchard casually grab it from him and replace it with the empty can he just finished.
It’s a practiced move, and I wonder if I’m not the only person Gavin’s told the story about his mother to.
Or maybe Bouchard knows him well enough from being a Blizzard that he’s used to seeing him not partake in alcohol.
Regardless, it’s endearing seeing him make the subtle swap without drawing attention to it or to Gavin.
Strangely, as I sip my beer and eat some of the food Coach had sent up, I have a lot of time to think and wonder as I watch the team interact.
I lean against one of the tables in the back.
They laugh and joke around, making them begin to look like a team of guys who might be able to play together and hopefully win together.
Occasionally, Gavin looks my way, and with each glance, his face gets more worried.
There’s a line forming between his brows.
He breaks away and comes over to me. “Come join us.”
I shake my head. “If they wanted me to join, they’d have included me.”
He frowns, then leans against the table beside me. Our arms brush. “I want you to join.”
“Do you?” I can feel my cheeks flush, and he knocks me a bit with his shoulder.
“Yeah. I do. Very much.” He’s frowning a little as he pulls away from the table and grabs me by the shoulder, hauling me with him. “Come on. Come join the team. They’ll warm up when they see you loosen up.”
“Are you trying to take advantage of me?” I tease.
He leans in close and whispers, “Never.”
The word sends shivers down my spine. Am I imagining it, or was that the kind of “never” that says, when it happens, neither one of us will be being taken advantage of? We will both be willing participants. And boy oh boy, am I willing.
Gavin takes my empty beer can and tosses it into a nearby bin. He’s about to hand me another one when Bouchard comes over and slides in front of him. I hold my breath, not sure what to expect, but he surprises me and holds out a new can for me. I take it. “Thanks.”
“I can’t believe you got two past me,” he says.
“It wasn’t easy,” I admit. He’s a great goalie with sharp reflexes even on his bad days. He wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case.
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t because of me.” He tips his head towards me. “I know it got pretty rough out there.”
“It’s all good,” I say, and give him a placating smile. “Part of the game, right?”
“Yeah.” He laughs, then gestures with his chin at Gavin. “You might want to tell your man that. Because he’s going to knock some of these players into next season if they try anything like that again.”
I try to conceal the thrill that runs through me at the fact Bouchard referred to Gavin as “my man.” It’s not even what he meant, but the sound of it pleases me more than it should.
I look at Bouchard and pop my can open to take a sip.
“Just think about how much worse it would be if he wasn’t on our team. ”
“Thankfully, that’s something I’ve never had to think about.” He laughs. “I’ve been fortunate enough to play with him my entire career to know firsthand he means business when it comes to protecting his teammates.”
My stomach drops as I remember that this is what Gavin does. He protects his team, not just me. “Isn’t that the truth,” I say and raise my beer, holding it up in Gavin’s direction. “We’re lucky to have him.”
Gavin subtly winks at me, and it sends shivers down my spine.
He doesn’t do that to the rest of the team.
That’s something I can have to myself. I take another drink from my can and replay practice in my head.
I know I wasn’t imagining what I felt today.
Gavin and I worked well together. We anticipated each other’s moves on the ice.
We were where the other needed us to be at all times.
And we managed to score the only two goals against Bouchard.
But it was more than that. Despite being roughed up by my teammates, I felt safe on the ice when he was skating with me.
I’ve never once felt that. I’m an excellent skater, I can hold my own, but I’ve always had to outskate everyone on the ice for my own protection.
Now with Gavin, someone who can both keep up with me and watch my back, I feel like there’s not much I can’t do.
Gavin is good for me. He gives me more confidence, which, despite what everyone in the league thinks, is something I desperately need.
Together, we can unite the team. Together we can win gold.
Gavin
“Come on, Captain,” I say to Connor as I pull him out of one of the chairs. His eyes have been slowly closing for the last few minutes. We should have wrapped this party up an hour ago. “Ten minutes until curfew.”
“Did everyone else go to bed?” he asks around a yawn.
“Just about,” I tell him and gesture around the room. There’s only a few guys left, and Bouchard is ushering them out through the door. He points at me and mouths, “You good?”
“I’m good,” I mouth back and nod.
I hook an arm around Connor’s waist. I have to stoop a bit to do it, but he feels dead on his feet. This is going to be a long trek up to our hotel room if he doesn’t start cooperating.
“Are you carrying me to bed?” Connor asks. He’s staring up at me with his sleepy eyes that look twice as blue with how glossy they are.
“No.” I shake my head at him as we get to the closed door. “You better be ready to walk. The last thing you need is a picture of me carrying you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Why isn’t that the last thing you need too?”
I steady him on his feet and try to assess if he’s drunk, exhausted, or both.
He stumbles into me and yawns. My money’s on both.
I grab his face in my hands and direct him to look at me.
A smile pulls at his lips and I hate to say what I’m about to, because it’s going to make that smile go away.
“Because unlike you, I don’t have a father who will make my life a living hell if I’m seen carrying another man to my room. ”
As predicted, Connor’s smile falls from his face. But he looks at me with wide, curious eyes. “Your dad doesn’t care that you’re gay?”
“He does not.” Not that we talk about it.
But then again, I have a sneaking suspicion we wouldn’t talk about my love life if I was straight, either.
That’s not how we roll in Alaska. It’s a very “your business is your business, and my business is my business” kind of place.
My father genuinely doesn’t care who I date or if I date, as long as I’m happy and he doesn’t come home from a fishing trip to find me dead due to the bottle.
It’s a pretty low bar of expectations but it works for us.
“That’s nice,” Connor says. “I’d like to meet him.”
“I’d like that, too,” I say, because it’s true. My dad is the complete opposite of Connor’s. It would be good for him to see the juxtaposition. I smirk at him. “We could even introduce him to your father.”
Connor’s face goes serious. “I wouldn’t want to do that to your dad.”
“He can hold his own,” I assure him, and reach for the door handle. “Are you ready? We now only have five minutes to make it to our room.”
His lips lift into a half smile. “Race you?”
“You’re on, Kennedy!” I say and swing the door open with one hand and use my other on his lower back to gently guide him through.
Connor
It wasn’t so much a race back to the room as it was a stumble. But Gavin did a good job of keeping me from falling over.
I’m hanging off one of his shoulders when we reach the room, and he has one of his huge hands pressed firmly on my lower back.
It’s been there a lot on this trek from the team room to our hotel room.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the feel of it.
It’s strong, wide, and warm. Reassuring.
Safe. He uses it to nudge me through the open door and into our room where he puts me onto my bed.
Once I’m seated, he drops onto one knee and begins to untie my shoes before he slides them off. He rises to his feet and stands in front of me. “Come on. Let’s take your shirt off.”
I look up at him and admire his angular face and the kindness in his deep, dark eyes. “I thought you weren’t going to take advantage of me.” I wink at him. At least I think I do.
“I’m putting you to bed.” He laughs and one half of his smile quirks up. “Now come on, let’s take your shirt off. I know you like to sleep in your sweats.”
“And you like to sleep in your briefs.”
“Actually.” He grins like the devil. “I like to sleep naked.”
“You do?” My eyes open wide and my cheeks heat.
“No.” He laughs again, then presses a finger to my cheek. “But I knew saying that would make you do this.”
“Dick,” I say, and flop all the way onto the mattress.
He grabs my hand and hauls me back to seated.
Then, with careful fingers, he grabs the hem of my shirt and starts to lift it.
I don’t fight him. I’d lose that fight and it’s not one I want to win anyway.
I want to be undressed by him. I want him to have his way with me.
And most of all, I want to live a life where I can have that.
“What’s this?” he says, his fingertips lightly probing my ribcage. He dips his head slightly down to get a closer look.
I lift my arm and look down to where he’s touching. There’s a decent-sized dark-purple bruise there.
He shakes his head. “This looks like it was made with a stick handle. Did you take a hit to your ribs today?”
I look at him and bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Where else did they get you?”
“I’m not sure.” He frowns and eyes my torso as he runs his hands up my arms. He stops when he gets to the small bruise on my jaw from yesterday’s brawl. I smile at him, hoping to settle the concern I see washing over his features. “You already knew about that one.”
“I don’t like how rough they’re being with you.”
“It’s hockey. That’s part of the game.”
“It is,” he agrees, raising one of his shoulders before he turns me slightly so he can check my back. “But not like this.” He turns me back around and gestures at my pants. “Can I count on you to take those off yourself?”
I lean back on the bed, supporting myself with my hands. “I’d like it better if you did it.”
I swear a low growl escapes his lips as he eyes my pants. “We can’t,” he says and throws my sweatpants at me. “I’d like to. But we can’t.”
“I know.”
He keeps his gaze on me and takes a deep breath in.
On the exhale, he closes his eyes. When they open again that hint of loneliness I’ve always seen in him is back.
This must not be as easy on him as he makes it seem.
The stakes of the Olympics, of the remainder of the regular season, of a possible playoff push are all on the line.
It’s our careers we would be risking. We’ve worked our entire lives to get here.
And while it would feel good right now to give in to our impulses, in the long run it will lead to nothing but regret.
And that’s if we’re lucky. Because for me, there’s a bigger disaster this will lead to. Heartbreak.
I’m already feeling the beginning pangs of it as he closes the bathroom door behind him.