Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8

by Bianca Sommerland

  Goal!

  Throwing his fist up in the air, Ian leaned over the boards to congratulate the guys. He bumped his glove into Vanek’s, then Demyan’s, struggling to do the same to Shawn without pulling him close for a few extra seconds.

  Shawn knew him too well. He laughed, leaning close and whispering, “Later.”

  The game continued, fast paced, with brutal hits and a few close calls on both ends. In the last minute of the first period, the Leaf’s crashed the net and tied things up. The goal went under review, but it was determined the Cobras own defenseman, Peter Kral, had knocked Bower over.

  Good goal. Kral was still apologizing to Bower as the period ended and they headed for the locker room.

  Bower gave Kral a one armed hug. “It happens, man. We’re good. You’ll make it up to me.”

  Second period and Kral more than made up for his sloppy play. He used his body to block a dangerous shot. Managed to send the puck rolling onto Ian’s stick. Ian rushed across the ice, carrying the puck to the neutral zone. Absorbed a low hit, wincing as his knee buckled. He righted himself quickly, maintaining control of the puck just long enough to send it flying across the ice to Ramos.

  Ramos passed to Manning. Manning sailed the puck over to Pearce. Pearce took the shot.

  The red light went off.

  2-1.

  Well into the third period, the Cobras held on to the lead. The Leafs were always a step behind their goalie working some damn magic the only thing that kept the Cobras from burying them. Finishing up a long shift, Ian followed Ladd into the Leaf’s zone, watching the kid zip around the players like he’d just gained the abilities of The Flash.

  As Ladd reached the net, a stick hooked his legs, sending him crashing into the goalie.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Leafs piled on Ladd, grabbing at him and punching him before he could even stand. Ian hauled one of the bigger guys off the rookie, clocking him square in the jaw. The ref focused on the jumble of bodies as everyone but the goalies joined in the brawl. Equipment scattered across the ice.

  Ian got his guy down with another solid punch, then turned to the fray, ready to grab the asshole who’d hooked Ladd, but Ramos had him. The huge defenseman was usually so fucking calm, but Ian knew he was downright scary when he lost his cool. Ramos’ eyes flashed as he let one punch hit his jaw. Blood slicked his bottom lip as he gave the other man a tight smile.

  Hand fisted in the Leaf’s jersey, Ramos rained down punishing blows until the refs pried the two men apart.

  The penalties racked up, most of the line from both teams crammed into the sin bin. Ian laughed as he found himself squished into the corner of the bin and the ref struggled to close the door.

  Play continued, a little more even sided, as though the fight had given the Leaf’s a much-needed burst of energy. Bower faced shot after shot, moving like he’d grown extra limbs. Perron took double shifts, guarding the zone and setting up some sweet plays. The man was on his fucking game.

  But as he started losing steam, Callahan called him to the bench. And the Leafs took advantage of a sloppy line change, rushing the goal, only Kral between them and Bower. Kral went down to cut off the passing lane, but the puck sailed over him.

  Bodies filled the net. Bower had stopped the puck, but it was still loose. The Leaf’s jabbed at Bower’s glove and pads, searching for the puck.

  Kral managed to find the puck. He made a long pass, finding Ladd in the clear halfway across the rink. Ladd went on a breakaway, faking out the goalie with some fancy stick handling, the puck a blur as he spun around. He clipped the puck toward the net as he dove sideways to avoid slamming into the goalie.

  The puck went in.

  Minutes later, the game was won.

  The Leafs were eliminated.

  For most of the night, the team celebrated. Ian hung out with Shawn, Ladd, Hunt, and Ramos, tossing back a few beers and laughing as Hunt recapped the game from his point of view, just as excited as the rest of them even though he’d spent the entire game on the pine. Ladd seemed to have lost his ability to speak after Hunt congratulated him for the game winning goal.

  Hunt didn’t notice. He just bought Ladd another beer and slapped his shoulder, talking nonstop.

  It was good to see the two getting along. Ian had been pretty sure they hated each other, but maybe they were just young and stupid sometimes. He’d had his moments with teammates before.

  Speaking of teammates, Ian watched Shawn who’d been on the phone since they’d gotten to the hotel bar. His man was smiling and laughing, looking damn happy as he listened to whatever Justina was saying. Knowing her, she was probably doing the exact same thing Hunt was. From what Shawn had told Ian, she was passionate about the game.

  Ian took out his phone, not all that surprised that he hadn’t gotten a call. It was past midnight, so he didn’t want to risk waking up Sam, but it bothered him a bit to know she probably hadn’t watched the game at all.

  She wasn’t into hockey, which was fine, but it took up so much of his life, he wasn’t sure how they’d manage with only their love of comic books in common.

  Guess you’ll find out this summer.

  He took a long gulp of beer, all the elation from before fading. Maybe it was messed up, but he wasn’t ready for the postseason to end. Seeing Shawn all dreamy eyed, his voice all soft as he talked to Justina, made him wonder how different things would be after a couple weeks apart. If Shawn wasn’t already in love with the girl, he was headed in that direction. Maybe Ian wouldn’t be the one to end things between him and Shawn after all.

  How solid could a relationship that had been open from the start really be?

  Doesn’t matter. It’s not over yet.

  There had to be a way to keep it from being over at all.

  Thankfully, Ian had plenty of time to figure that out.

  Chapter 34

  The conference finals against Detroit ended in a clean sweep. Fucking embarrassing, how easily the Cobras had been taken out, but Shawn suspected Bower had aggravated an old injury. Hunt had been thrown in for the last two games, and while he gave it his all, he didn’t have the experience to hold the fort against a healthy team while his own was falling apart.

  There was always next season. Shawn was proud of his team for going as far as they had. He managed to hold his positive front as he said goodbye to all the guys and cleaned out his locker. Somehow kept smiling long after Ian had taken off to catch his flight to Winnipeg.

  But he stuck around the locker room for a long time, unable to shake the feeling that this was it. He’d abandoned his rules, hadn’t been careful with his heart, and now he couldn’t go back to being…well, Easy. At least Justina was off in Newfoundland to support her brother as his team finished off their own finals. No fucking way was he taking her down with him. He’d get past the hopelessness. Learn to live with Ian being his best friend and nothing more.

  You knew this was gonna happen. Get over it.

  Easier said than done.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, Shawn grabbed his bags and headed out. After loading his trunk, his phone buzzed and he pulled it from the pocket of his black suit pants.

  His stomach dropped as he read the text.

  Steve: After talking to your agent, I realized I’d been acting crazy. I need to apologize. I know how important your team is to you, so I sold my tickets and took my wife down to PEI to enjoy the sights. I was sorry to hear that your team lost.

  I understand if you don’t want to see me, but I would like to spend some time with you before I head home. Please let me know if this is agreeable.

  Shawn’s first instinct was to reply ‘Hell no’, but damn it, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Steve apologizing was kinda cool. And Shawn wasn’t the scrawny, desperate kid he’d been back when Steve had fucked him up.

  Some closure would be good. For both of them.

  Shawn: Sure. You can come by my place if you want. We’ll have a beer and catch up. Are yo
u bringing your wife?

  Steve: No. She headed home yesterday. I told her I wanted to stay and meet up with you. That we’re friends and I wasn’t sure when I’d get this chance again.

  ‘Friends’ wasn’t what Shawn would call them, but whatever. He sent Steve his address, then made his way home, stopping at the store to grab some beer. Without Ian spending so much time at his place, he’d stopped bothering to keep any in his fridge.

  There were a few things he’d stopped doing without Ian around. Cracking open a beer, Shawn took a sip, then set it aside to plug his iPod into the speaker in the living room. He scrolled until he found one of Ian’s favorite songs. Hell’s Bells by AC/DC.

  Just as the bells sounded at the beginning of the song, he heard a knock at the door. Taking a few bracing gulps of beer, he crossed the room to let Steve in.

  “Hey.” Steve shuffled into the hall, standing off to the side as Shawn closed the door. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

  Shawn shrugged, holding up his beer. “You want a drink?”

  “Sure, that would be great.” Steve followed him to the kitchen, nodding his thanks when Shawn handed him a beer. He took a sip, making a face. “Not as good as Stiegl. Then again, I don’t think anything here is as good as back home.”

  “I find this one pretty good. Ian usually gets Molson Canadian, but this is his favorite.” Shawn’s lips quirked at the edges at he looked at the bottle of Keith’s, a beer brewed in Halifax. “I tried to get him to try some micro-brews, but he wasn’t crazy about them.”

  Steve’s eyes narrowed. “This…Ian. Is he your boyfriend?”

  “He’s my best friend.” Shawn arched a brow, tilting the beer to his lips. He leaned against the kitchen counter. “You know, the guy you punched?”

  “Ah.” Steve gulped down half his beer then shook his head. “That was stupid of me. If he’s around, maybe I can apologize to him as well.”

  Polishing off his beer, Shawn shook his head, going to the fridge to grab two more beers. “He went home to visit his grandmother with his girlfriend.”

  “So you are single?”

  Fisting his hands around the beer bottles, Shawn frowned. “No. I’m seeing a girl, actually.”

  “And where is she?”

  “Newfoundland.” Shawn tried to shake the sinking unease filling him with Steve’s questions. The man was asking about his life. Nothing unusual about that. He cleared his throat. “You said you brought your wife to Prince Edward Island. What did she think of it?”

  “She thought it was beautiful.” Moving closer, Steve brushed his fingers over the scruff on Shawn’s cheek. “You should shave. I don’t like you looking so unclean.”

  Stepping around him to set the bottles on the counter, Shawn snorted. “Not sure why you think I care, Steve. You keep yourself nice and neat though. That how your wife likes you?”

  “Right now, I’m not thinking about what she likes. I’m remembering how you never cared how dirty I was.” Steve stepped up to him, resting his hands on the counter at either side of Shawn’s hips. “You would swallow my cock right after a game if we could find somewhere private. Fuck, I never met anyone who sucked dick as well as you do.”

  Yeah, so much for spending time together as ‘friends’. Shawn reached back for his beer, pretty sure he was going to need it. “Is that what you want, Steve? You want me to suck your dick?”

  “No.” Steve pressed against him suddenly, laughing as Shawn clinked the mouth of the beer against his teeth. “I miss your fucking tight ass. I want you, Shawn.”

  “And your wife’s okay with that?”

  “My wife doesn’t need to know.” Steve’s jaw hardened. “And you won’t tell her.”

  Shawn pressed his hand against the center of Steve’s chest, pushing him back so he could slip out of reach. “You’re right. Because there’ll be nothing to tell her.”

  Nodding slowly, Steve watched him. The predatory look in his eyes made Shawn’s skin crawl.

  Get him out. Now! Doing his best to sound calm, Shawn strode across the kitchen. “Time to go, Steve. It’s been great and all, but—”

  The weight of Steve’s body slammed into him. He cracked his head on the edge of the hall table as he fell. He braced his hands on the floor as Steve fumbled with his belt. He shuddered as Steve sucked at the side of his neck.

  “Please, Shawn. Please just let me…” Steve wrapped his hand around Shawn’s dick, groaning as he roughly tugged, grinding against Shawn’s ass. “Just once. Just once and I’ll never bother you again.”

  The idea made Shawn nauseous, but it was just sex. If it would get Steve out of his fucking life for good? It would be worth the few…what, seconds it took to get the man off?

  “Hurry up.” Shawn lifted one hand to his face, swiping away the blood trailing down from his forehead. “Just fucking get it over with.”

  The man rose up and Shawn pressed his eyes shut as he heard the sound of his zipper coming down. At least he used a condom. And he was quick. Rough, but over fast. Now Shawn just had to get rid of the man so he could take a damn shower.

  As he rolled over to pull up his pants, a sharp kick hit him in the ribs. Then another.

  “You fucking disgusting piece of shit. Look what you fucking did…” Steve snarled as he straightened his clothes. He dropped the condom on the floor, staring at it, his face twisting with rage. He leaned down and grabbed Shawn by the throat. “I know what a big mouth you used to have, but I’m warning you, if you tell anyone—”

  Tearing Steve’s hand away from his throat, Shawn shoved to his feet, snapping his fist right between the fucker’s eyes. He slammed another punch into Steve’s gut. “You’ll what, Steve? Kill me? I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t fucking scare me. And you don’t have your buddies here to help you beat the shit out of me.”

  “I don’t need them.”

  A fist hammered into the side of Shawn’s head. He struggled to stay on his feet, bracing for the next punch.

  His vision blurred. He leaned against the wall. Footsteps sounded, further and further away. His front door opened and closed.

  He was alone.

  So very fucking alone.

  Exactly how he’d wanted to be, for so long. Which had been perfect until he’d let himself see how it felt to have someone who cared. Someone who would be there for him. All he had to do was ask.

  One phone call and Justina would be on her way. Ian would drop everything and come back, ready to destroy Steve. Hell, any of his teammates would be here in minutes.

  Except, Shawn couldn’t make that call. He didn’t know how.

  So he locked the door and helped himself to another beer. Kept drinking until he forgot the words he wanted to say.

  I need you. I was so fucking wrong. He pressed his hand to his side, every breath pure hell. The pain reaching deep. He’d gotten everything he’d asked for.

  Too bad he didn’t want it anymore.

  It was too late.

  Justina lifted Chris up in her arms, equipment and all as he let out a victory yell. She handed him over to their father as he chattered excitedly about how he’d made the perfect pass, and he hoped everyone knew he was going to be better than Crosby one day.

  Dad took Chris back to the locker room to get changed as Justina waited with her mother in the hall. Her mom smiled, giving Justina a one arms hug.

  “I don’t think I tell you this enough, but you’re the reason he’s so happy. All the practices you’ve gotten him to, all the extra time you’ve spent at the rink with him.” Her mother grinned. “Your father and I can’t keep up with him, but you’ve done an amazing job.”

  Smiling at her mother, before resting her head on her shoulder, Justina laughed. “I do my best. He’s a pain in the butt, but I love him.”

  “Yes, but I’m glad you’re doing more of your own thing. You don’t talk to us much, but you seem…well, you’re practically glowing lately.” Her mother drew away and tipped Justina’s chin up with a finger. “H
ave you met someone?”

  “I have.” Justina bit her bottom lip. “Actually, I was thinking of heading back early to see him. I have enough money saved up to pay to change the flight.”

  “He’s that special, is he?” Her mother patted her cheek. “Go ahead, my love. But I expect to meet him soon. Not so soon that he feels weird about it, but a man who’s made my little girl this happy must be pretty great.”

  “He is.” She stepped aside as her father and Chris joined them. They made their way to the parking lot. “Umm…I’ve been putting this off, because I know you and dad are busy, but my friend, Sahara, is renting out her apartment and I was thinking of taking it.”

  Her mother frowned, shaking her head. “Justina, you’re not making enough with the Ice Girls to manage an apartment on your own. I thought you liked the setup in the basement. You come and go as you please, no one bothers you—”

  “I know, but I just feel it’s time I look into being on my own.” Justina sighed as her father grumbled. “What?”

  Folding his arms over his chest, her father faced her as Mom opened the car. “If you’re not living at home, who’s going to watch your brother while we’re at work?”

  Guilt tightened Justina’s throat. He was right. Her parents needed her, and she was being selfish.

  Her mother shocked her by giving her father a playful shove. “Stop it, Harold. Justina’s finally met a man! We can’t expect to hog all her time. I’ll talk to Mrs. Sampson—the nice old lady a few doors down? Chris mows her lawn for her, and she’s been teaching him to bake when he stays with her while Justina’s working.”

  Justina managed to hold her smile, but she hated that her mom was only on her side because she ‘finally’ had a boyfriend. But whatever made life easier on everyone, she’d go with it. Mrs. Sampson was a sweet old lady. Chris would have fun with her.

  Less than an hour later, Justina managed to book a last minute flight and her parents dropped her off at the airport. She texted Shawn to let him know she was on her way, but didn’t get a reply.

  By the time she got home, it was almost 4 AM. Shawn must be sleeping. She decided to try him again in the morning.