Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Gavin
A little fact about me that will shock no one is that I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before Connor.
Not once. Ever. Sure, I’ve had sex with a decent number of men, but I’ve always bolted out the door within five minutes of me taking off the condom.
And I most certainly have never asked any of them to stay at my place.
Hell, I’ve never even asked anyone to come to my place.
For a few reasons. One, I’m not dumb enough to go cruising in my own city. And two, inviting someone to see my place sounds like a nightmare. They’d ask too many questions about how I live. Which consists of nothing but the barest of essentials.
But lying here with Connor, my arm resting around his body, my hips pressed against his backside, I’ve never been more content.
And I’ve never been more screwed because I know I’ll never find someone else who can replace him.
Another man’s body would feel wrong here.
Another man’s scent wouldn’t be as soothing.
Having another man mumble, “Good morning,” as he stretches his legs and arms, making his back and ass pull rigid against me would feel criminal.
“Good morning,” I say back to him. My lips brush the back of his neck. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m starved.”
“I can go get us some breakfast from the cafeteria downstairs and bring it up if you’d like.”
“Hmm,” he hums, and relaxes his arms and legs, melting his body back into me. “What time is it?” I pick up his wrist and check his watch, which makes him laugh. “I guess I could have done that.”
“It’s a little after seven. We have time to relax before practice.”
He yawns. “Did you want to work out?”
“No. Our schedule is relentless right now. I might give my body a break from the weights,” I say.
It’s a good idea. Between daily practices and nightly games, and not one day off unless we lose, I have no time to squeeze in my own workouts without sacrificing something else.
Something else like lying in bed with Connor.
I only have so many days like this left with him before we need to stop and go back to our respective cities and teams. Besides, daily sex with him is a workout in and of itself that I can’t get enough of.
“I can come with you to get breakfast,” he says.
“Nah. Stay here.” I kiss his neck and run my hand down his naked body. “Just like this. I want to have you for dessert.”
“Since when is dessert served with breakfast?”
“Since you.” I give him a little spank on the side of his right hip. “Cue up the next episode of Sierra Six on your laptop. We can watch it when I get back.”
Connor
His side of the bed is still warm and I’m luxuriating in it. His scent is everywhere and I’m starting to understand his obsession with smelling me. It’s intoxicating. Hot and heady. Who knew it could be this blissful?
I suppose I did. I’ve always wanted something like this, but this life, this career, my father, none of them have allowed me to enjoy this simple pleasure.
Sharing a bed with a man. I might suggest to Gavin that we stay here and never leave.
Just live in this makeshift double bed with the seam through the middle we try to avoid falling into.
I smile when I hear his footsteps coming towards our door. That was fast and I’m glad about it. I’m starving. Hungry for both food and him.
When I hear him knock, I’m surprised. “It should be unlocked,” I say, not wanting to get out of bed and away from the comfort I’ve melted into.
Besides, I’m naked and these rooms are surprisingly cold.
They must not have swung for a decent heating system in their haste to retrofit this building for dorms.
He opens the door and I sit myself up to greet him.
My face immediately falls when I see my father walk in.
Panic flutters through me as I pull the bedding up for better coverage of my naked body.
“What are you doing here?” Then, my panic settling into anger, I ask, “And how did you get up here? These dorms are for athletes only.”
He eyes me with disgust. “These dorms are to keep athletes like you in, not to keep people like me out.” My blood runs cold under the surface of my skin, draining me of all my color.
How could I have been so stupid as to let my guard down?
He gestures at the bed. “This better not be what it looks like.”
Tired, caught, and knowing there’s no conceivable lie I can tell him, I try to muster up what’s left of my dignity. I look him in the eyes and set my shoulders back. “So what if it is?”
“Damn it, Connor. I refuse to believe you’re this stupid.” He grabs a shirt that’s hanging out of the top drawer of the dresser and tosses it at me. “Get dressed,” he barks. “You’re coming with me.”
I throw the shirt on, but only because it’s one of Gavin’s and he doesn’t realize it until he sees the Alaskan Crab Fishing Guild logo emblazoned across it.
I can see the fight raging in him. And frankly, it’s beginning to rage in me too.
He’s controlled so much of my life and robbed me of being able to have someone in my life like Gavin. I won’t let him ruin this now.
“What are you more upset about?” I ask, my jaw tense. “That I’m sharing a bed with one of my teammates, or that it’s Gavin?”
He doesn’t answer my question. “Is this why you played like shit last night?”
Ah. I see. The real reason for his visit. Him finding me naked in bed is as much of a surprise for him as it is for me.
I grab my underwear from the foot of the bed, then stand to put it on. If we’re going to have this fight, I want to have it eye to eye, not with him looking down at me like I’m a kid again. “I didn’t play like shit! We won!”
“You gave away two goals that should have been yours!” he yells back. “You could have easily had a hat trick!”
“I made the right call by passing! I’m not like you! I don’t make selfish plays!” My heart is racing. I never talk back to my father. Not like this. But I can’t let him steamroll all over me anymore.
His nostrils flare. “Being selfish made me the best!” He jabs his finger into my chest, right between the crab in the tee shirt logo’s eyes. “You’re too soft! You’ve always been too soft!”
“I’m not soft!” I bellow.
“You are!” my dad bellows back. He leans closer. “And you’re distracted.” He sneers at me. “I can’t believe that piece of Alaskan trash made a bitch out of you.”
“Yo,” I hear Bouchard’s voice on the other side of the door, followed by a knock.
He pokes his head in. When he sees me, he raises his eyebrow and curls up the corner of his mouth.
I can almost hear him ask if I want him to escort my father out.
Instead, he says, “It’s getting a little loud in here. ”
“Mind your business,” my father barks at him.
Bouchard tips his head at him. “Technically, sir,” he says, a smile pulling at his lips, “I was minding my business. But you decided to have this conversation at high volume.” He steps all the way into the room and stares directly at my father.
Even without his goalie gear on, Bouchard is bigger than him.
Much bigger. He’s built like a veritable mountain in front of the net.
“Now, unless you want the rest of the team to hear you, I suggest you keep your voice down. And if you’re smart, you’ll be off of this floor before Marshal gets back onto it. ”
He gives me one last look, silently asking if I’m good. I nod at him, because for the first time in my life, I am.
Bouchard walks back towards the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob and looks back at my father. “See you around, Mr. Kennedy.”
Gavin
When I step out of the elevator onto our floor, carrying breakfast in both hands, I see Bouchard coming out of my room. He spots me, and points at his room next door. I follow him into it.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask when he closes the door.
“You have a visitor,” he says.
For a moment, I get excited, thinking maybe my dad has shown up. But then I see the grave look on Bouchard’s face and I know exactly who’s in there. With Connor. Alone. I want to burst through the wall.
Bouchard takes the trays of food out of my hands and places them on his bed. It’s then that I realize we’re not in here alone. Olsen steps out of their tiny bathroom.
He holds his hands up. “Hey, man,” he says. “I don’t even have an opinion. You two do you.”
I nod at him, then look at Bouchard. My heart is racing. “Does the entire floor know?”
“I don’t know, man. Shit got loud, but I stepped in before it got that loud.”
I look to Olsen for confirmation.
He shrugs. “Probably just us.”
“Okay, so it’s not a complete disaster.” I mean, truthfully, now that I’m confronted with it happening, I don’t care if my teammates know I’m gay.
What are they gonna do? Kick me off the team?
They don’t have the power to do that. But Connor.
I do care about keeping his secret from them.
And I definitely care about protecting him from any further backlash from his father.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Bouchard says. He shakes his head. “After that display, there’s no way that man is winning father of the year.”
“No shit.” I laugh bitterly while my blood continues to boil.
“If anything,” Olsen says and sits on his bed, “if the rest of the team heard the way he was talking to Connor, they’d have rushed into your room and beat the shit out of him.”
“Funny,” I say. “Because that’s exactly what I want to do right now.”
Bouchard places his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye. “Don’t,” he says. “Connor’s a big boy, and this is not your fight.”
“It kind of is my fight,” I say. I’m the one who kissed him. I’m the one who started this. “I gotta get in there.” I spin away from him and move towards the door.
“Gavin.” Bouchard’s hand is back on my shoulder. “If you go in there, you’re only going to make it worse.”
“At least they finally stopped yelling at each other,” Olsen says.
He’s right. There’s no sound coming from the other side of the wall.
Bouchard’s eyebrow quirks up, and he thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards the wall between our rooms. “Quietest it’s been in there since we got here.”
I narrow my eyes at him, giving him my best stone-faced glare.
“It’s true,” Olsen says.
“So you knew before this morning?” I ask Olsen.
He shrugs again. “Like I said. It’s none of my business.”
Goalies, man. They truly are the gatekeepers of every team.
I hear my room’s door shut while we’re silent, followed by footsteps pounding down the hall. “I gotta go,” I say to Bouchard and grab the trays of food I brought up. “Thanks for stepping in this morning.”
“Don’t mention it,” Bouchard says. He looks at Olsen. “You hungry?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I could eat.”
Bouchard opens the door for me and sends me on my way as they leave to go get breakfast. I balance the trays of food for me and Connor in one hand and let myself into our room.
I expect to see Connor upset. Run-ins with his father tend to do that to him.
Instead, he looks calm. Slightly flushed from exertion, but calm like the whistle just blew to signal the end of a stressful first period in a game.
“Nice shirt,” I say, with a quirk up of my lips. The sight of him in it melts what’s left of my rage.
“Thanks.” He blushes, pulls at the hem as he looks down at it, and laughs lightly. “You should have seen the look on my father’s face when he saw it after he threw it at me and told me to put it on.” He takes his eyes off the shirt and looks back at me. His eyes and smile are mischievous.
In my need to touch him, I put our food down on the bed, then brush his flushed cheek with my knuckles. “You alright?”
He nods his head. “I think so.”
“I should have been here.” I flatten my palm against his face.
He shakes his head, then leans into my touch. “No. That would have made it worse.”
“Still,” I say, “I’m supposed to protect you.”
Fight flashes in his eyes, but it’s not aimed towards me. “Save it for the ice,” he says. “I need to handle him by myself.”
I nod. I get it. The fight between Connor and his dad has been brewing longer than long-held NHL team grudges. I can’t have this fight for him.
But I can kiss him. So I lean down and press my lips against his. When I pull back, there’s words on my lips I need to swallow down. Words I never thought I’d say to anyone. Words that feel an awful lot like they’re designed to express love.
Instead of speaking, I kiss him again with more urgency to stop the words from bubbling up.