Chapter 24
DENNY
My first game back is against Vegas. I’m partially distracted from leaving Tyler home with Ty while I’m here. I can just imagine my mother seeing that I’m in the game tonight and showing up at my house to demand that Tyler hand over my baby.
I’m probably not doing a good job of concealing my distraction. Zenia grips the front of my jersey. “Focus, man. We need you here. Tyler will take care of Ty. He’s safe and happy, and they’re watching you right now.”
I glance up at the big screens hanging over the ice with the clocks on them. I realize that’s not at all where the cameras are or what the public watching the game sees, yet that’s where I look as if he can see me.
“Thanks,” I say, nodding.
As we stand just beyond the chute, I remind myself that Tyler has all the numbers.
I’ve made Coach aware of the situation, and I know he has his phone on him for that reason.
If Tyler needs something, he’s to call Coach right away.
Then he’s to call Carson and Kroy since they’re close and can be there within a few minutes.
Nothing is going to happen tonight.
Maybe I should have asked Carson and Kroy to hang out with him. But then Tyler might have thought I didn’t trust him, though. That’s not the case. More people mean that my mother has less of a chance of bullying her way in. Safety in numbers.
It’s not easy to push all the worries away. When we’re finally let onto the ice, it’s easier to convince my fears to be quiet. The cold bite against my face, and the sound of pucks against sticks. The chaos of the fans in the audience.
I hear my name across the speaker and glance up at the monitors to see that the cameras are following me around.
“…So good to see our own Denny Willow back on the ice.”
“It is. I hope that means life is quieting down for him. I can’t imagine the grief he’s had to deal with on top of raising a newborn on his own.”
“I imagine it’s rough. We can only hope he has a good support system. However, it’s good to see him flying around the ice.”
“He’s back and ready to play. Look at that shot. We’re just in warmup, but I predict we’re going to see good things from him tonight.”
“Not only back, but back with a vengeance.”
A smirk touches my lips as I circle the net, tapping Felton’s stick on my way by. He beams at me when I meet his eyes. “You good, Denny?” he calls, and I tighten my arch to come back toward him.
“I am. How’re you?”
His gaze flickers to Ren, and then he looks up into the crowd. His chest rises and falls. “I’m good.” His smile is genuine. “Getting better every day. Just us and hockey. That’s all that matters.”
I reach my glove out to him, and he hits his against mine. “I like that mantra.”
“It’s a good one to remember. There’s calm in it when you need to drown out all the noise,” he agrees, tapping his head with his big glove.
“Noted.”
I turn away and grab a puck on my way by. I slow when I see someone at the glass. It’s in the way they’re standing. The man turns, and I see that they’re hiding a baby. Older than Ty, but still young. Bundled tightly and wrapped in one of those slings that Tyler wears to carry Ty around the house.
The man, probably his father, grins at me. “Starting young,” he yells.
I grin in return and bend down for a puck. “First souvenir?” I offer, holding up the puck.
He beams. “Thanks.”
“Ready?”
The man covers his baby’s head and nods. As carefully as I can, I toss the puck over the glass toward him and watch as he shifts to catch it. He does, thankfully. No mishaps. He yells his thanks, his smile never falling.
When I turn back to the ice, excitement flutters in my chest. I can’t wait to share this game with Ty. I can’t wait to get him on the ice.
I’m used to shit calls, but as I step out of the sin bin, I’m furious. That’s the second penalty called on me tonight, and they’ve both been stupid as fuck. With a glare at the ref, I join my team on their way by, streaking down toward Vegas’ defensive zone.
Absently, I wonder where Azure Dayne is tonight—the goalie with an icy stare. There’s one unspoken rule in hockey when you play Vegas. Don’t look into Azure’s eyes. It’ll feel like someone has just walked over your grave.
Nason Jordan passes the puck to me, and it hits my stick. Two of Vegas’ guys are on me, so I quickly toss it back. One hits me, sending me into the board. We come away and skate right back into play.
The puck makes it back to my stick, and I have an open shot. The goalie is watching me, though. I push the puck forward, slowing the strength behind the hit so it only moves a couple feet before adjusting my shot to Jackson Troy.
He sinks it, and I raise my hands in the air. Fuck, yes. Take that, stupid refs. I’m flicking them off inside my glove, which is almost impossible to see since the fingers are made to curl in, not raise in a universal ‘fuck you, bitch’ language.
I return to the bench to take a drink and catch my breath as I watch the next puck drop. Six minutes left in the first period. The game has only just begun, but I’m feeling good with already scoring a goal to Vegas’ goose egg.
Vegas is a good team. I like their teamwork and cohesion. They’re one of those teams that I feel can speak without words. They read each other well.
When I get back on the ice, none of that matters.
Me, the team, and hockey. I let Felton’s chant skip around my head on repeat as I focus my gaze on the puck.
Only the puck. Everyone around me are pillars without a face.
My teammates have motion, but the others are something out of an old DOS program.
The puck hits my stick, and I slide to the left, spinning a little to avoid impact. I shoot the puck away, thankful when Dasan catches it. Time slows as I glide toward the net. Dasan passes the puck to Nason, who immediately passes it to me.
My shot isn’t open, but I’m certainly not going to make a shot I don’t take, so I swing back, aim for the tiny hole over his right shoulder, and hit. The puck comes off the ice and flies through the air. I swear, I can hear the whoosh.
I don’t quite see it sink, but the horn blows and the red light spins as the announcers yell that I’ve made the shot. The goal is good. In the corner of my eye, I see one of the refs motion a confirmation that the goal is good.
My teammates surround me, and I sigh.
“What a way to come back,” one of the announcers yells.
“An assist and a goal. Denny Willow is on fire!”
“Nice shot, Denny,” Ren says, slapping the back of my helmet. His quiet voice somehow drowns out the cheers, the celebratory music, and the yelling announcers. I sigh. It’s really fucking good to be back.
I pull into the driveway, the world around me silent and still since it’s late. I have the unfamiliar sensation that I miss home. I miss Ty. I miss Tyler.
When we’re on away games, I miss home. I miss being in my bed and my closet of clothes instead of living out of a suitcase. I like the space that my house offers, as opposed to a small hotel room.
This is different. A very different feeling that has me struggling around it in my chest.
The house is quiet when I open the door.
Not that I expect anything different. Although with the lights off, I feel a little…
uneasy. For a split second, the world spins, and I think I’m transported into a place where the last two months didn’t happen.
When I walk into my bedroom, Ty won’t be there.
There won’t be a bassinet in my bedroom.
Tyler won’t be in my bed.
Kicking my shoes off, I make sure my door is locked and security is set before making my way through the dark rooms. In the shadows, I can’t see any sign that anyone else is here but me. Ty’s cradle is swallowed by the darkness. His swing disappears into the shadow of the recliner.
I move down the hall, thankful when I see a dim light coming from my bedroom. My heart jumps when I find my baby in his bassinet and my… my Tyler in bed. He’s sitting on top of the blankets in those sexy fucking socks.
Who the hell would have thought that old-school tube socks would be so fucking sexy? What’s wrong with me? Where did this obsession come from?
I nearly miss everything else because my attention is on the slutty socks. Then I realize this damn man is naked, hard, and stroking himself. His pretty eyes, framed by dark-rimmed glasses, stare at me.
My tongue feels too big for my throat.
“Want to celebrate your win tonight?” Tyler asks, voice low. Seductive.
I drop my suit jacket and waste no time peeling out of the layers of my suit. Fuck yeah, I do. I want nothing more than that.
I’m on the bed in less than two minutes, pressing my mouth to his and joining his hand around his dick with one of my own.
Tyler smiles against my lips. “So… I prepped. Maybe you want to top tonight?”
A groan rattles through my chest. I don’t even care what position we’re in. As long as I can somehow feel like we’re a part of each other’s bodies. “Yeah,” I answer and yank him down the bed so he lands on his back.
Tyler laughs, and I eagerly swallow the sound.
He presses a condom into my palm, and as awkwardly as I can manage, I roll it on my dick while keeping my mouth sucking on his chest. More specifically, his nipples.
His body writhes and shudders beneath me.
The sexy sounds from his mouth reach the level of pure heat that the sight of his slutty socks sends through me.
When I finally have the condom on, I pull my mouth from his chest and listen to the way he gasps for breath.
“Sexy, sexy man,” I murmur.
He reaches for me, and I blanket my body over his. Tyler’s legs wrap around my back, and I feel those slutty socks on my ass cheeks. Fuck.
I’m not smooth. Not suave. Like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole, I fumble trying to push myself inside him without a guide. Even my kisses, while I desperately poke and prod, looking for home, are sloppy as if it’s my first time making out.
When karma is finally done laughing at me, I’m confident she helps me hit the target, and I begin sliding it. That’s when I’m finally able to slow down. The sensation of his body taking me in. The heat. His nails on my back. The friction of his slutty socks on my skin has me moaning.
“You’re so hot,” Tyler groans. His fingers dig into my hair as I lap along his neck while slowly making my way inside him. “Fuck yeah, Denny. Just like that. Your cock is perfect. My hole is going to suck your dick so good.”
I grin, but my amusement fades as he continues to say all these dirty things to me. Dirty praise combined with the feel of his body around me is my kryptonite. The world around me fades as I find a rhythm that has Tyler gasping between the filthy things he says and lose myself in this moment.
This celebration.
“Your dick is epic,” Tyler grunts. “The way you reach my throat. God, I’m going to explode. Fuck me just like that, Denny. So much like that. You’re so good. So good at this.”
His words feel like they are no longer being spoken out loud. His voice is directly in my head. I don’t stop feeling his hands on me, in my hair, gripping tightly. The extra sting has my hips snapping a little harsher, something Tyler doesn’t miss.
“Like that? Like when I pull your hair?”
I gasp when he tugs harder, and yeah, I lose some of my control as my hips rut all on their own. Tyler groans loudly, his words getting lost in the sound as he says, “Yes. Fuck me like that,” between his loud, sexy moans that grip my balls and threaten to undo me.
His heel digs into my ass cheek, but somehow, I think the other one is somewhere in the middle of my back. Like he’s bent in half. Maybe he is. The scratch of his socks against my sweaty skin is just another stimulation that does it for me.
I come. Hard. I feel it in my entire body. Everything inside me rocks. I’m pretty sure I hear the cliché fireworks explode in my head.
“I really hope you came with me,” I grunt. “I don’t think I can move.” My body sags on top of him.
“I did like an hour ago,” Tyler says, laughing breathlessly.
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“I’m not. How are you missing the cum sloshing between us like gross jelly?”
Now that he mentions it, I realize it’s not just sweat between us. I grin and let my body crush him. Tyler doesn’t complain. He wraps himself around me, and I wish that my body would somehow sink into his. I want to be closer. I want to forever be a part of him.
“Amazing,” he says quietly.
I nod. Once, I would have thought that I was kind of indifferent to whom I’m hooking up with. Especially after the first time we hooked up with a guy. I realized that any hole was good. There have been very few people over the years that I’ve been really, really into.
It’s always been about vibe, and while I think I’ve said that in relation to guys, right now, I think it has nothing to do with gender. I can get into it easily enough with whoever. If I’m attracted to them, it’s exponentially better.
Never in my entire life have I thought that something could feel so good. That’s the difference between a hookup and having sex with someone who means something to you beyond getting off.
As I listen to Tyler’s breathing and feel his body wrapped around me, I know that I’ll never feel anything this good again.
Tyler just might be it for me. The epitome of pleasure.
The Stanley Cup of personal happiness and belonging.
The one person throughout my entire life that makes me feel like home isn’t simply somewhere I sleep. It’s a person. It’s him.