Risking the Shot (Stick Side Book 4)

by Amy Aislin

  Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow? Andy can’t wait to see you.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how Andy felt, but a little incentive to get Fiona to keep her promises couldn’t hurt.

  Fiona’s reply came less than a minute later. Can I let you know tomorrow afternoon?

  Of course, when Fiona needed to cancel a visit, she responded instantly. When he tried scheduling one with her and Andy, sometimes it took days for her to get back to him.

  It sent his mind back four years. For months after Andy was born, getting Fiona to open up had been like feeding a shy turtle—impossible. Even a simple “How was your day” when he arrived home from work was met with evasiveness and a subject change. It had all culminated in a divorce and one motherless kid.

  She hadn’t kept a single commitment in the past several years. Their wedding vows were broken, she’d left Andy, and every visit had been either rescheduled or cancelled entirely.

  Dakota waited for a second text. Something that would contain an explanation as to why she might not make it. When three minutes passed with nothing, he sent back: Sure. But if you can’t make it, you get to tell your son why.

  That was mean, but hey, she needed to be held accountable.

  How had Andy known, though? Intuition? Nah. Low expectations, more likely.

  God. Rubbing his temples, he leaned his head back until the top of it thumped against the wall. Did Andy have low expectations when it came to his father too?

  Jesus fuck, he hoped not.

  He and Fiona had officially split when Andy was less than a year old. After Fiona had moved out but before Dakota had sold their old house in The Beaches and moved him and Andy into this one in Toronto’s High Park neighborhood, he’d read one too many parenting blogs about how single parenting was hard. It was the one time he’d ever considered moving back to Halifax, where he had family and friends ready and willing to help and who would surround Andy with so much love he’d never have occasion to miss his mom.

  Three things had kept him here.

  First, Calder. He wasn’t a replacement for Fiona and didn’t try to be, but he was great with Andy, and he spent almost as much time with them as he did at his own apartment.

  Second, his job. He worked for a great organization that treated its employees well, and he got along great with his coworkers.

  And third, Andy. Even as a baby he’d never been fussy. He was the easiest kid on the planet, almost like he knew that being a handful would be hard on his dad.

  The phone vibrated in his hand, a photo of his youngest brother flashing across the screen. A smile breaking free, Dakota swiped to answer. “Hey, Owen.”

  “Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?” His voice was as familiar as ever.

  “Nah. Andy just went to bed.”

  “Aw.” Dakota could practically see the pout. “I wanted to say hi to the little bugger. Ah well. I’ll call back before dinner tomorrow. So.”

  Amused, Dakota’s grin widened. “So.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You called me. What’s up with you?”

  “Oh, um . . . Well, I sort of did a thing.”

  You don’t say. Something to do with wedding rings, perhaps? Last summer, when Owen had visited with his boyfriend and teammate Kas, Owen’s gaze had been caught by a wedding ring display in a jewelry store window while they’d walked along Bloor Street after a trip to the ROM—the Royal Ontario Museum. Dakota had expected Owen to bring him news of their engagement a long time ago. Such had not been the case.

  “What did you do?” he asked, banking the excitement in his voice so he didn’t steal Owen’s thunder.

  “I bought . . . wedding rings?”

  Startled, Dakota blinked. “Oh.”

  “Oh? Why, oh? Oh god. You don’t think I should ask him?” A brief pause where Dakota envisioned Owen pulling at his hair. “Oh my god, you think he’s going to say no!”

  “What? No. Owen, take a breath.” Laughing would be the wrong move right now. “I don’t think he’s going to say no. I thought you were going to tell me you’re engaged.”

  A pause from Owen’s end of the line. “Oh. So you think he’ll say yes?”

  “Yes,” Dakota said, emphatic. “Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you yet.”

  “Why? Is he going to? Has he said something to you? Did he, like, ask for permission or something?”

  “Not from me. You don’t think he’d talk to Mom and Dad about something like that instead?”

  “Probably not. He’s not an ask-for-permission type of guy.” A pause, then, “That sounded much dirtier than I meant it to.”

  Ignoring that last bit, Dakota stretched his legs onto the coffee table. “How are you going to ask him?”

  “That’s sort of why I called,” Owen admitted. There was a scratching sound, as though Owen was scratching his unshaved cheek. “How do you think I should do it? Should I do like in the movies where they hide the ring in a cake or a champagne glass?”

  “Uh . . .” Dakota grimaced. That sounded much too extravagant and complicated to him. Also, what kind of movies was Owen watching? “Is Kas into that sort of thing?”

  “No. He’s more, um, chill? Like, pop the question while recovering from a round of sweaty sex.”

  “Well, that’s . . . certainly an image.” And not one Dakota wanted in his brain in regard to his sibling.

  “How did you propose to Fiona?”

  “I—”

  “Sorry, no. Don’t answer that. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

  A commercial on TV lit up the room as Dakota shook his head. “They’re not bad memories. They’re just . . . memories, at this point.” The bad memories came later, when Fiona announced she didn’t want to be a mom. “We spent a long weekend in Cape Breton, at an inn on the coast. We had a room that overlooked the ocean, and after dinner on the balcony our first night there, I popped the question before dessert.” They’d abandoned dessert, if he recalled correctly, in favor of more gratifying activities in the bedroom. They’d ended up spooning each other dessert much, much later, amid laughter and kisses. Shaking his head to scatter the memory, he added, “That’s it. Nothing fancy. When are you going to ask Kas?”

  “I don’t know.” Owen sounded so miserable that Dakota’s heart went out to him, even as mirth at Owen’s dramatics threatened to make him laugh. “I’ve had the rings for days but I keep putting it off. Waiting for that perfect moment, I guess. But perfect moments don’t always present themselves in life, do they?”

  “No, they certainly don’t.” And even if they did, sometimes life pulled a one-eighty and kicked you in the ass later. “So make your own, Owen. Whether you ask him while changing the sheets or cleaning the bathroom together or hiding the ring in a cake, I promise it’ll be the perfect moment because you made it so.”

  “Fuck,” Owen said on a laugh. “I’m so nervous. Even though I know he’ll say yes, my stomach still wants to shrivel up and hide.”

  Dakota chuckled. “Gross.”

  “Hey, D? Thanks.” Owen’s voice lowered, sincerity and gratitude threading through it.

  Warmth curled through Dakota, along with a hint of homesickness that tightened his ribs and had him sinking deeper into the couch. Not for Halifax, per se, but for family and togetherness.

  “Anytime,” he managed to mutter.

  “So, what’s going on with you? How’d the celebration party go on Saturday? Did Andy flip when he met all the players? Next time you visit me, I’ll take him to meet my team.”

  “It was fun. There was a lot of . . .” Flirting. Lots of flirting.

  “Lots of what?”

  “Ah . . .” Dakota scratched his jaw. For a second, he debated not mentioning anything, but he could use an opinion that wasn’t Calder’s. “I sort of . . . met someone.”

  “At the party?” There was a rustle of cloth, possibly Owen getting comfortable on a couch or bed. “Ooh, tell me everything.”

  “There
isn’t much to tell at this point. I like him a lot, but—”

  “Him?” Owen interrupted. “When was the last time you dated a guy?”

  Dakota loosed a huff of laughter. “College.”

  “So what’s the but?”

  Leaning his head back, Dakota blinked at the ceiling. “I guess I’m wondering if I should let things happen with this guy.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  Fuck, there were so many reasons, not the least of which . . . “I don’t want to introduce someone into Andy’s life who might not stick around. He’s already got to deal with Fiona’s absence. I don’t want to add another one.”

  “Uh, I hate to break it to you, but Andy’s already got people in his life who won’t stick around. Teachers, for one. His preschool friends, unless they all miraculously end up in the same school for kindergarten. Even if they do, there’s no guarantee some of them might not move away eventually or transfer schools. Kas and me, for another, popping in for a brief visit before going away again. Same with Mom and Dad and our brothers. He’s going to be dealing with people coming and going his whole life.”

  “Ugh.” Dakota squeezed his eyes closed. “I didn’t think of that.” Owen made some excellent points, and if Dakota hadn’t seen him grow up into the person he was, he would’ve wondered when his brother had gotten so damn smart. “I just want to keep him in this safe, little bubble where he can never get hurt.”

  Owen snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Parents always screw up their kids, even when they try not to. You’ve probably already messed Andy up for life.”

  Mouth dropping open, Dakota stared blankly at the television. “Wow. Worst pep talk ever. Why’d I call you again?”

  “You didn’t. I called you.”

  “I’m regretting answering.”

  Owen’s laughter was contagious, and Dakota snickered despite himself.

  A commotion on the TV caught his attention when they hung up a minute later. Jesus, he’d forgotten all about the game. Looked like some kind of fight had broken out. He raised the volume to hear the announcer, turning it back down again when he didn’t hear Tay’s name. Rotating the phone around and around in his hand, he debated for a half a second before throwing caution to the wind.

  He took a photo of the score in the top left corner of the screen—Toronto was still ahead by two—sent it to Tay, and followed it up with: Andy says you only need one more goal to win :)

  Even with his conversation with Owen fresh in his mind, he still had one butt cheek on the fence about the whole dating thing, regardless of whether it was just sex like Calder had suggested. The problem was that he didn’t want just sex. If the time they’d spent together in the coatroom and then at family skate had proven anything, it was that he liked Tay. He was funny and cheerful and didn’t get upset if Andy interrupted their conversation. He was obviously determined and smart. His smiles made Dakota’s blood heat in his veins, and the way Tay focused so much of his attention on him when they were together? When was the last time Dakota had been the center of someone’s attention? When was the last time someone had made him feel so wanted—biblically and otherwise? When was the last time he’d truly been attracted to someone?

  For reasons Dakota couldn’t name, Tay made him want to take a risk and let someone in.

  Maybe not fully in. At least, not yet. They barely knew each other.

  But he could start with a text and see where it went.

  Following an early morning practice at their practice facility on Wednesday, Coach stressed keeping their heads in the game and minimizing outside distractions during a mid-morning team meeting. With six weeks left of the regular season, their team had a real shot at making the playoffs this year, and games were about to get faster, harder, and more brutal. After a stop at the St. Lawrence Market with Grey and Dean on the way home to pick up fancy cheese and lunch, Tay had them drop him off at the arena downtown.

  Those distractions Coach had mentioned? Tay had a big one and his name was Dakota Cotton. Even his love of hockey and commitment to the team couldn’t make him minimize such a wonderful distraction. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet, and Tay was already floating on a bubble of happiness.

  As Dean pulled onto the street that would take them to the arena, Tay moved his grocery bag onto the seat next to him, putting it with Dean and Grey’s stuff. “Can you guys put my cheese in the fridge when you get home?”

  “You know you didn’t have to buy your own cheese, right?” Dean asked, eyeing him in the rearview mirror. “When I offered you our guest bedroom, I didn’t expect you to constantly buy your own groceries.”

  Tay glanced away from Dean’s too perceptive gaze. “I’m mooching off you enough as it is. I don’t want to eat your food too. And these aren’t all for me anyway. I’m bringing some to my Gran when I drop by next week.”

  Turning around in his seat to look at him, Grey said, “How is she? Alex told me she went into the hospital before Christmas.”

  “Mild heart attack.” Tay tried not to dwell on the phone call from his dad. It was a fact of life that NHL players traveled—a lot. Which meant it was also a fact that they were more likely than many to receive bad news while on the road, thousands of kilometers away where they were too far to do anything to help. Such had been the case when Dad had called about Gran. “She’s much better now, just tires easily.” He unbuckled his seatbelt when Dean pulled up to the arena. “My cheese?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Grey waved a hand. “We got it.”

  “You sure you don’t want us to wait?” Dean asked as Tay hopped out of the SUV.

  “Nope. I’ve got class and a lab later anyway, so I’ll just take the subway up to campus. Thanks, guys.” He slammed the back door shut, backpack over one shoulder, and gave them a salute through the window.

  Once they’d driven off, Tay rounded the building, giving tourists taking selfies a wide berth and tugging his toque as low as his eyebrows to avoid recognition. On the south side of the building was one of the few unmarked employee entrances. Tay used his keycard to get in, ending up in a bright hallway devoid of activity.

  Heading for the elevators, he patted his coat pocket to ensure Andy’s jersey was still folded inside, then mentally patted himself on the back for thinking of this excuse to see Dakota again.

  He was still wondering what Dakota’s text was all about; in all of the texting they’d done in the last day, Dakota hadn’t clarified, no matter how much Tay had pushed.

  I’ll tell you when I see you, Dakota had finally written, causing all sorts of funny feelings to bloom in Tay’s chest.

  He was grinning as he got off on the fifth floor and hung a left, passing admin offices and conference rooms and theater suites. At the end of the hallway was a set of frosted glass double doors.

  A receptionist with short white hair sprinkled with gray sat behind a wide desk. Hung on the wall behind her were candid shots of kids playing sports.

  “Hi, Tay,” she said. “Come to visit with Sam?” Sam was the Foundation’s programs and volunteer coordinator who matched the team’s players to volunteer gigs they’d expressed interest in, everything from one-to-one mentoring to March Break or summer camps.

  “Ah, no.” Too late he realized Dakota might not be here, or he could be in a meeting. “I’m looking for Dakota.”

  “Hm.” Karen pressed her lips into a thin line. “He’s been in meetings most of the day. Give me a sec and I’ll check his calendar.”

  “Thanks.” Leaning back against the desk, he checked his phone while she did that. A missed call from his mom, a voicemail—his mom no doubt—and a text from his mom with one of those kissy-face emojis and a brief Sorry I missed you! Talk later. He also had an email from his agent and a text from Stanton wondering if he was interested in concert tickets for a local band that was playing at a pub this summer. He texted back a short Sure to Stanton and put his phone away. The rest could wait until later.

  “Tay?”

  His head j
erked up at Dakota’s voice, and there was the man himself, casually outfitted in black dressy jeans with a black-checkered pattern, and a crewneck, long-sleeved sweater in olive green. He held a laptop in one hand, against his hip, and a coffee mug in the other.

  His grin matched Tay’s, which was all sorts of awesome.

  “Oh, good,” Karen said. “I don’t have to track you down.”

  Tay straightened. “Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Perfect timing, actually.” Dakota moved closer. “I just got out of a meeting. What’s going on?”

  Tay pulled the jersey out of his pocket. “For Andy. It’s got Cherny’s signature now.”

  Dakota placed his laptop on Karen’s desk and the mug on top of the laptop. Taking the jersey from Tay, he unfolded the tiny thing and smiled at the signatures on the back. “Thank you. Andy’s going to love it.”

  “Good.” Tay rocked back on his heels. “Do you have a few minutes? Want to grab a coffee?”

  “I’ve got . . .” Dakota checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes before my next meeting. Let me drop these in my office. Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “You couldn’t pay me to,” Tay muttered to his retreating back.

  Not quietly enough, apparently, because Dakota threw him a wide grin over his shoulder.

  Whatever. Dakota already knew he was into him.

  He was back less than two minutes later, wearing the same wool coat he’d worn to the party on Saturday. The one that made his eyes look so damn clear. Tay handed Karen back her phone, where she’d been showing him pictures of her two and a half-year-old grandson.

  “He’s adorable.”

  Karen winked at him. “His favorite phrase is ‘What’s this?’” She chuckled. “Dakota, Bob just emailed. Not sure if you saw it?” At Dakota’s head shake, she continued. “He’s running about fifteen minutes late on his way back from another meeting near the Eaton Centre.”