Risking the Shot (Stick Side Book 4)

by Amy Aislin

  Tay didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He wanted to get their pants off and take both of their hard cocks in his hand, sink to his knees, and suck Dakota off, but some part of his brain must’ve still been working—he remembered a child was sleeping upstairs. They shouldn’t even be frotting in a dining room chair. But hey—if Dakota wasn’t putting a stop to it, Tay wasn’t about to.

  “Can you come like this?” he asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Dakota’s head fell onto the high-backed chair. “Considering how long it’s been . . .” He squeezed Tay’s ass, nudging him closer over the edge. “Can you?”

  “No problem,” Tay said, lips trailing up Dakota’s neck. “Just the scent of scotch on you makes me hard.”

  Tay shifted on Dakota’s thighs, changing the angle. Dakota hissed between his teeth, face flushing a pretty pink, and then he stiffened under Tay, throwing his head back with a muffled groan. The sight of him coming undone was too much for Tay, and he slumped onto Dakota’s chest as he came in his underwear.

  Dakota’s hands found their way under Tay’s T-shirt to stroke his bare back, as if he were taming an animal. Tay kind of felt like one, wild and uninhibited.

  Tucking his face into Tay’s neck, Dakota said, “I’m going to have to remember that thing about the scotch.”

  Tay’s fingers gripped Dakota’s hair, bringing his mouth back to his. “I really hope you do.”

  Later, much later than he’d planned, after the Uber dropped him off at Dean and Grey’s and he’d crept up the stairs of a silent house, he dropped back onto the bed, arms and legs akimbo, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  It wasn’t often that Tay panicked about a first date.

  Okay, wait. Back up. He wasn’t panicking; he was mildly concerned that he couldn’t find the right place to take Dakota.

  And it wasn’t often either, considering the last time he’d gone on an actual date was . . . When? So long ago that he couldn’t remember it. Maybe at the tail end of his AHL career?

  The sun shone through his Gran’s bay window as they sat on the couch after lunch, watching a baking competition, which was oddly appropriate given where his thoughts were. Had been for two days, ever since Dakota had made him come in his pants like a teenager.

  But, then, he’d made Dakota come in his pants like a teenager too. Happy orgasms all around!

  Not what he should be thinking about while sitting next to Gran.

  “What’s this story about?” Gran leaned over to check out the drawing on his iPad during a commercial break.

  Tay angled it in her direction. “It’s the same one I’ve been working on on-and-off since high school.”

  “The water witch brothers?”

  “Yeah. This is the third book in the series.” Although he probably should go back to the beginning and update his older ones if he ever intended to do something with them. His style had changed and improved a lot since high school.

  “Right.” Gran sat back in her corner of the couch. “The one with the three gay brothers. Because that happens in real life.”

  “Hey,” Tay protested, chuckling. “You don’t know that it can’t. Or hasn’t.”

  “I still think it would’ve made more sense for the second two to be a cousin and a best friend.”

  “Nope. They materialized as brothers in my head, and so they shall be.”

  His eighty-seven-year-old Gran’s laugh turned into a wheeze, and she coughed into a Kleenex. Tay side-eyed her without appearing to do so. He would’ve sworn that she’d aged ten years since her heart attack in December. She wore her wrinkles with grace, but her skin had sagged, her eyes were glassy, and she was too skinny.

  She’d barely touched the lunch Tay had prepared for them: Teriyaki glazed salmon, quinoa, green beans topped with parmesan cheese, and garlic bread as a treat. Her appetite wasn’t what it used to be. He kept meaning to ask his dad about that in case it was something they needed to be concerned about.

  The baking competition came back from commercial. Tay closed out of his drawing app on his tablet and brought up the internet search bar, typing in best first date restaurants in Toronto.

  He found lots of expensive places, lots of restaurants that looked like they’d be loud given the dinner crowds shown in the photos, and lots of froufrou fancy. Was Dakota into froufrou fancy? Oh wait, how about this one? The facade was completely unassuming, plain white with a window on either side of the door. The inside was long and narrow, two-seater booths on the left and a bar on the right, and their website tagline boasted classic French cuisine.

  Hmm. Maybe. He bookmarked the site.

  “Hey, Gran. Where would you take a guy on a first date?”

  “Hooters.”

  His mouth dropped open. “That’s . . . That’s not . . . Gran.”

  She wheeze-laughed, slapping her knee.

  The front door opened and his dad stepped inside, still in hospital scrubs; he must’ve just come off shift. “Do I want to know what’s so funny?”

  “Probably not,” Tay muttered.

  “Mom, I brought your toilet paper.” Dad set the package down near the staircase.

  Tay turned to Gran. “How come you didn’t ask me to bring it since I was coming this way?”

  “Forgot.”

  Dad kissed the top of Gran’s head and nodded at Tay. “That looks fancy,” he said before heading for the kitchen.

  “It’s not. It’s supposed to be casual French dining according to the website.”

  “Since when do the French do anything casual?” Dad called from the kitchen.

  “Hey, Dad, where would you take a guy on a first date?”

  “A titty bar!”

  Tay groaned. Gran thought it was hysterical. So did Dad. Tay could hear him chuckling.

  When he got back to Dean and Grey’s mid-afternoon, he found them both in the kitchen putting together a grocery list. A Tenor Jones song played on Bluetooth speakers.

  Tay slumped onto a barstool at the island. “Help.”

  They looked up from their list with twin blinks. Was that a married couple thing or a we-have-identical-confused-expressions thing?

  “What do you need?” Dean asked, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows.

  Grey perked up, sending his wild curls tumbling over his forehead. “Tutoring? Because I was reading your textbook and—”

  “What textbook?” Tay said.

  “Karp’s Cell and Molecular Biology: Concepts and Experiments.”

  Tay stared at him. “Why, why, why, for the love of God, why would you read that voluntarily?”

  “He’s a science and math nerd,” Dean said with his head in the fridge. “Can you add broccoli to the list?” he said to his husband. Back to Tay, “At first I thought it was just marine biology—”

  “Seahorses,” Grey whispered like a crazed killer spotting its prey.

  “—but it’s all of it. He’s also a math genius.”

  “Really?” Unable to believe it, Tay stared at Grey’s bent head as he added broccoli to the grocery list. “Where were you when I was taking chemistry last year?”

  Grey pouted like the man-child he was. “Aw, I missed chemistry?”

  Letting the fridge slam closed behind him, Dean came back over to the island, edging his broad D-man shoulders in next to Grey. He stole the pen from Grey and added more stuff to the list. Tay couldn’t read it upside down.

  “What do you actually need help with?” Dean said.

  The music on the little kitchen radio changed to a Whitney Houston song. Grey bopped his hips, bumping into Dean’s with every other move.

  Living with Grey and Dean was . . . interesting. If you didn’t know them, the two men seemed like polar opposites. Dean, laidback and quietly confident and über competent. Grey, mercurial and chatty and bold. Turned out they fit together like the colors of a rainbow. They were both homebodies who valued their privacy, so the fact that Dean had invited him to stay here instead of Tay having to live out of a hote
l room for weeks said a lot about the man’s generosity.

  Tay had never in his life seen two men demonstrate so much warmth and love toward each other. Casual touches, lingering glances, kisses that ranged from fun and flirty to deep and sensuous. And they weren’t shy about showing affection in front of Tay either.

  And Tay, being the shameless voyeur that he was, couldn’t take his eyes off them when they got all touchy-feely. Screw it, he could admit it—he didn’t even try. They were beautiful together.

  What they had reminded him of what his parents had. Trust, mutual respect, open communication, and an intrinsic sort of knowing who their partner was. It was that something special Tay had grown up around and that he’d always wanted for himself.

  “Tay?”

  “Huh?” Ripped out of his thoughts, he focused on Dean.

  “What do you need help with?”

  “Oh. Where would you take a guy on a first date?”

  Again with the twin blinks. Definitely a married thing. They shared a look. “In this city?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Playdium!” Grey said like one would shout a bid at an auction.

  “Um. Not quite what I had in mind.” He didn’t think a giant stadium packed full of kids and teenagers playing video games would appeal to Dakota. “Where’d you guys go on your first date?”

  Another shared look passed between them, this one conveying how stumped they were.

  “We didn’t really date in the traditional sense,” Dean said slowly. “We were friends first and it sort of . . . evolved from there.”

  “Yeah.” Grey smirked. “He wouldn’t let me fuck him until he was in love with me.”

  Dean shook his head, an amused tilt to his lips. “That’s not quite how it happened, but close enough, I guess.”

  At any other time, Tay would ask for the details out of sheer curiosity. Now, when he was in make-this-the-best-first-date-ever mode, was not the time.

  Catching on to his frustration—Tay’s balled fists gave him away—Dean said, “What neighborhood does he live in? Maybe see what’s around there that looks good. That way he doesn’t have to go far. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

  It actually wasn’t bad advice.

  Later, Tay sat in the locker room dressed in his home game uniform, tapping away on his phone after Coach’s usual pregame speech, bookmarking yet more restaurant websites. He had over a dozen now and was still no closer to choosing one. On his thigh sat the puzzle piece Andy had again secreted into his backpack without him noticing. So far, it hadn’t inspired him much, but the sight of it was enough to make him grin.

  Phone between his hands, he nudged Stanton’s shoulder. “Where would you take a guy on a first date?”

  “Hm.” Stanton pursed his lips, glancing up briefly from where he was taping his hockey stick. Finally, someone who was giving it some thought. “I don’t know. Depends what they’re into. Is he the fancy-restaurant type? Casual dining and a movie? Trivia night at the local pub? Batting cages? A walk through the Entertainment District?”

  Tay growled. That was the damn problem. He and Dakota didn’t know each other outside of cake decorating and hockey and orgasms. That was the whole point of first dates, wasn’t it? To get to know one another and see if they wanted to keep getting to know each other?

  And not in the biblical sense.

  He couldn’t even stalk the guy online to find his interests. Why couldn’t Dakota be on at least one social media platform?

  His gaze caught on Lacroix on the other side of the room and an idea sparked. Tucking the puzzle piece back into his backpack, Tay made his way over there on his skate guards and stood in Lacroix’s personal space until his teammate acknowledged him.

  “What’s up, kid?” he said without looking up from lacing his skates.

  Kid. Ugh. Tay refused to let it bother him. “You’re friends with Calder, right?” They’d spent family skate together.

  “Why?”

  “I need his phone number.”

  Lacroix finally deigned to look at him. “Why?”

  “I need to ask him something.”

  Lacroix’s eyes narrowed.

  Tay tried a smile. “It’s important.”

  “Let me ask him if it’s okay to give it to you.”

  Better than nothing. “’Kay. Thanks.” Halfway back to his side of the locker room, he turned and said, “It really is important.”

  Lacroix snorted a laugh but at least he was texting.

  There was a phone number on the business card Dakota had given him at the Foundation’s celebration party, but it was still in the suit jacket he’d worn that night, in the guest closet at Dean and Grey’s. And anyway, he couldn’t remember if that number matched the one he had for Dakota. What if it was a shared line between Dakota and Calder? Tay didn’t want Dakota knowing he was having a mild freak out over their dinner location.

  Two minutes later, a text from Calder arrived on his phone. So Lacroix had given Calder his number instead. That worked too. He sat straighter and waved a thank you at Lacroix.

  Calder: This is Calder. What’s up?

  Tay: I’m having a crisis! Where do I take Dakota on Sunday? What does he like? What’s his favorite food? Favorite restaurant? Help!

  Calder: He’ll eat most things except squishy seafood.

  Tay: Yes, I know that already. Is there a restaurant he likes best?

  Calder: He doesn’t really go out.

  Tay: How does he feel about French cuisine?

  Calder: The thing about Dakota is that he’s protective of himself and Andy. He hasn’t let anyone get close in a really long time, and he’ll tell you left, right, and center that it’s because he doesn’t want to introduce anyone into Andy’s life who might disappear. And while that might be true to a certain extent, he’s also terrified of getting hurt again, although you’d have to threaten to break his precious cake decorating hands to get him to admit that. He’s afraid of opening himself up only to get his heart crushed.

  That was good to know and also totally understandable. Tay didn’t know yet what had happened between Dakota and his ex-wife, but divorce sucked whichever way you looked at it.

  Not that it helped Tay any with his dilemma.

  Calder: I’m not saying this to freak you out or mess with you. Just that the date doesn’t matter. It’s a tiny part of the relationship whole. What matters is proving to Dakota that you’ll be there for him and Andy.

  Tay: Um, thanks? I kinda just wanna start with dinner. Got any recs?

  Tay could do that, though. It wouldn’t be hard—he wanted to be there for Dakota and Andy. Sure, he had practice and game schedules, and he was on the road a lot, and he had classes and assignments, and he was almost certain he had a volunteer gig with the Foundation near the end of April. But hell, hockey wouldn’t last forever and neither would his classes.

  He had some teammates who were busier than he was, and they made a relationship work. Collet juggled a wife, three boys between the ages of four and eight, a post-grad certificate in fundraising management, and was actively working with the Foundation to expand outside the Greater Toronto Area. If Collet could do it, so could Tay—he didn’t have kids to worry about.

  With less than a minute until they were due on the ice for the warm-up, Tay put his phone away and grabbed his helmet and gloves.

  After spending two days feeling guilty for agreeing to send Andy to Calder’s for the night later this week just so he could have the option of fucking Tay to kingdom come, Dakota got online and googled “how to date as a single parent,” something he’d never had to look up before, seeing as his interest in dating was right down there with 3D puzzles. He expected such wisdoms as make sure your child still feels loved or don’t rush to introduce your new partner to your child or don’t have sleepovers while your child is home. Things any single parent already knew.

  Instead he was led to more than one family psychology site that encouraged putting the relationship befo
re the kids.

  A loving and trusting relationship is the centriforce around which the family orbits and demonstrates to the children how a respectful partnership should look.

  Huh. Theoretically, it made sense, but it also sounded sacrilegious. He’d spent the past four years putting Andy first, and all of a sudden he was supposed to stop, just because he was dating again?

  We understand that this is a tricky proposition for single parents and that there will be a learning curve. Give yourself time to adjust by imagining a scenario where your relationship with your partner is the center of your life. Now imagine how much stability—and extra love—that will create for your children.

  Could he do that? He didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life, so he supposed he had to. But was he ready to do that now? He liked Tay a lot, and the reason he hadn’t put an end to their quasi-relationship—or whatever it was—before it’d even begun was because he could see something long-term coming of it. Their sexual chemistry was certainly compatible, and their personalities seemed to mesh.

  It wasn’t like he could simply switch off putting Andy first, though. He’d take it one step at a time and see where things with Tay went before implementing such drastic changes to his life.

  So. Okay. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed the laptop to the center of the table and sipped his whiskey, the same Pike Creek he’d enjoyed two nights ago with Tay. Would he ever be able to enjoy a drink again without imagining Tay tasting it from his lips or his roughly whispered very, very naughty?

  Unlikely.

  Did he care? Not so much. It just made anticipating their date on Sunday that much sweeter.

  Grabbing his drink, he headed into the family room to watch the Toronto vs Nashville game.

  Andy was asleep, and Dakota didn’t have work to catch up on. He’d already decorated the simple cookies for the last-day-on-the-job office party that were being picked up first thing tomorrow. There was laundry to do and the kitchen floor needed scrubbing—it was still sticky from when Andy had dropped his juice earlier. He needed to check the online scheduler he shared with Calder for their business to make sure he had all of the supplies he needed for their upcoming orders, and his supplies needed inventorying. He needed to change—after picking Andy up from preschool, they’d come straight home to make dinner, and he was still in his work outfit of chinos and sweater.