Chapter Five
Denis
I should’ve felt sorry for the man. He was completely out of his element, and I could’ve made it easier for him. But he’d been such a sanctimonious little shit that I let him squirm like a worm on a hook and muddle his way through his embarrassment.
“Here he is,” I announced to the room of people. “All cleaned up and hopefully hangover free.”
“Bastard,” he hissed in my ear. Sterling cleared his throat and stepped around me. “Lisa, may I speak to you a moment?”
Always a sweetheart, Lisa excused herself from the conversation and approached us. “I’m glad you’re awake. Are you feeling better? We have some late-night snacks, and I still have food from the wedding, if you’d like.”
Big blue eyes filled with venom shot to me. “Do you mind? I’d like to speak to Lisa in private.”
“Absolument.” I strolled away and found a seat at the end of the large dining table across from Adrian and Rip.
A feast had been set out—sandwiches, bagels, all kinds of spreads, and cold cuts.
Cookies and pastries took up a side table, along with a large coffee urn. I counted twenty people including me.
Adrian leaned over to speak to me. “How is he?”
I could play it two ways. Tell the truth and say he was drunk as a skunk and had passed out, or be the gentleman and say he wasn’t feeling well and thought it was best to rest instead of attempting the long drive home.
I took half a bagel and put it on my plate. “Better, now that he’s slept. I don’t think he’ll have too bad of a hangover.” I couldn’t help it. Sinners had much more fun.
Adrian’s brows shot up. “Hangover? He always said he barely drinks. Sterling’s very into his health—no coffee, only green tea, has a strict gym routine.”
“I guess everyone needs to let go once in a while.” I spread cream cheese on my bagel, placed capers and tomatoes on it, then piled smoked salmon on top.
“You seem to be enjoying this, Denis. You and Sterling were having a very intense conversation at the bar before dinner.” Rip lazed in his chair, his fingers playing with Adrian’s hair. The light picked up the gold glint of his wedding band.
“Enjoying what? A wedding? Of course.” I swept my hand in front of me. “My two favorite people together at last.”
Rip studied me. “How are you doing?”
I chewed and swallowed. “Me? You saw tonight. I’m great. I might be thirty-six, but I’m as quick as Ellis, even though he’s more than ten years younger.”
“I’m not talking about hockey, Denis. I mean you, as a person. We didn’t have a chance to talk about it at Slapshots after the win, but now that the season is finished and Adrian and I are married, we should try and catch up.”
My throat grew tight, but I forced a smile on my face. “About what?”
“I don’t know. I feel like we never got to know each other.”
“Of course we did. I’m an open book.”
He laughed. “You’re a great liar, but you can’t fool me. Every time I asked about meeting your family, you pushed me off. I only met Gil once, and that was a brief hello at a playoff game. I know he’s been a huge influence in your life. We never talked about anything of importance except hockey.”
“Is anything else but hockey important?” I joked.
“Do you really believe that?” His brow puckered. “There’s more to life than the game. It’s our job.”
“I mean, there’s sex, but I doubt we need to talk about that.”
“No,” he responded with a scornful tilt of his lips. “Don’t even go there. Dammit, I thought you’d changed.”
I immediately sought to smooth things over. “No, no. I’m sorry. I’m kidding.” The last thing I wanted was to upset the tenuous bonds of friendship Rip and I were weaving. “My family? There’s not much to tell. I grew up in Canada, I left home to play hockey, and that’s that.”
“And that’s that,” he repeated. “You’re kidding me. I know more about the guy I buy my coffee from than you’ve ever given me. Friends share, Denis. They open themselves up.”
Rip might be speaking to me, but my concentration was on Sterling. Lisa had seated him by her and Neil, and they were attempting to draw him into conversation. Knowing the little I did of the man, it would be in vain. He was as tight-lipped as they came.
And tight lips were only good if they were sucking my dick, which wasn’t about to happen with Sterling, no matter how hot it would be to see him on his knees, those angry blue eyes shooting daggers as he pleasured me.
He was an arrogant, annoying bastard, but perversely, that made him eminently desirable.
I suppose it was the thrill of the chase and ultimate capture.
“Denis,” Rip spoke sharply, and I focused on him again.
“Open up? Trust me, mon ami, the last thing I want to do at your wedding is talk about my family. That chapter of my life is closed.” The food rolled in my belly, and I needed air. “Excuse me.”
I rose from my seat and exited through the kitchen, where I remembered from the times Rip had brought me here, a door led out to a deck and the spacious grounds.
The rain had ceased, and the air was fresh and clean up here. It reminded me of my home, an hour north of Montreal. The cold weather began in August, and snow was common in October. We were playing hockey by mid-month.
I was the biggest kid in my Timbits—U-7 league—and like my father and grandfather, chosen to play goalie.
“The Bouvier legacy,” Papa had proclaimed to our family, all puffed up with pride, and every minute out of school, after I’d finished my homework, he and Oncle Marc would work with me.
We’d practice on the frozen lake behind our homes in the winters and in the town’s indoor rink in summertime.
My little cousin Davide had been born with some ailment and couldn’t play sports, so my uncle Marc had poured everything into me.
Life had been perfect.
Until I turned fifteen and realized I hadn’t been interested in kissing Thérèse, my next-door neighbor, who’d walked to school with me every day, but instead, my dreams had revolved around her older brother, Georges.
A tall, tawny-haired god with long-lashed brown eyes and a chipped front tooth from a wayward puck that had made his smile even more adorable.
I’d tried to fight the urges, forced myself to go out with girls, kiss them even, though it had always turned out to be a disappointing mess.
“Open up, he says,” I muttered now, taking the stairs to the backyard and walking on the wet grass.
The house sat on several acres, and I made my way across the lawn, my shoes squelching in the puddles.
They’d be ruined by night’s end, but I didn’t care.
I reached the swing set and leaned on the redwood post. Gazing at the moonlit sky, at stars spread out overhead, I thought about Georges for the first time in years.
“You’re going to do great in the NHL,” I told him in English, practicing to get more confident speaking it, then froze at his presence behind me. Hot breath hit my neck.
“You think so?” A shiver ran through me feeling his lips touch my ear. “I’m a little nervous about leaving. I’ll miss you, Denis.” Georges was eighteen, two years older than me, and leaving for hockey training camp, having been drafted out of high school.
“Y-you will? But you’ll meet lots of new people.”
His hands splayed across my stomach, making fire explode in my belly. My vision blurred, my words ending on a hiss of pleasure when he cupped my crotch.
“I knew it,” he whispered in my ear as he slipped a hand inside my sweats, pushing them and my briefs halfway down my thighs. “You want me, don’t you?”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except fight for my next breath as he touched me. I was harder than I’d ever been. At some point his pants had come off too, and he was naked against me. His teeth buried themselves in my shoulder as I fell apart, and he groaned.
“You’re so fucking hot, and I’ve wanted this all year.”
“I…I’ve never. I mean. I haven’t…”
“I figured. It’s hard to know who to trust in a small town. Especially for me.” He turned me around, and his eyes were earnest and soft. “But you won’t say anything to anyone.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Will you?”
Before I could answer, his lips settled over mine, and I almost swooned. Those few sloppy kisses I’d shared with girls were nothing like this all-consuming heat.
Georges slid his fingers through my hair and took control. His tongue pushed to meet mine, and they teased and played together. I clutched his shoulders as he owned my mouth, and I was hard. Aching. And I could see he was stiff as well.
“Georges,” I moaned. “Please.”
Georges nipped and bit my lips. “Please what?”
“I-I don’t know. Just touch me again.” In the hockey rink I was so self-assured. I knew what I was supposed to do and how to do it. Here, I was lost.
Instead, Georges took my hand and put it on his dick. I’d never touched another man, and I held it awkwardly.
“On your knees. I’ll tell you what to do. Teach you. You do me first, and after I’ll do you.”
I sank to the floor and opened my mouth. The door to his bedroom opened.
“Georges!” his mother screamed.
He pushed me to the floor, and I scrambled for my clothes to cover myself as he cursed me and told his mother how he’d been doing me a favor, showing me hockey moves, and I’d forced myself on him while he was changing.
He joined his mother in screaming at me to get away from him, and I pulled my clothes on, ran down the stairs and out of the house.
Georges’s father was walking up the path. “Bonsoir, Denis.”
“Révérend.” Without making eye contact, I crossed the lawns between our two houses.
I sat on the swing. It was small for my height, but I let it sway me back and forth. I remembered hearing that Georges had been transferred to the Miami Manatees after he’d failed to impress during his rookie year, and that he’d died in a boating accident off the Florida Keys.