by Amy Aislin
“Mm-hmm,” Dakota said, mouth full. “I’m surprised the NHL kept them in Burlington, to be honest. There was talk about moving them to a bigger city up to the end of their second season.”
“I vaguely remember that.”
“My brother was happy to stay in Burlington. He fell in love with it when he got traded there.” And fell in love with one of his teammates, but that wasn’t Dakota’s business to tell. Not that he thought Tay would go exposing Owen’s secrets, but still.
It was easy talking hockey with Tay as they ate. Tay’s laugh was carefree, and he kept cutting his eyes over to Dakota with a little smile that made the corners of his mouth crease. Was he wondering when they could sneak out of here to go back to Dakota’s and taste his scotch?
Dakota certainly was, but he was also loathe to cut their time out short. It wasn’t often he enjoyed a meal outside of his own home with someone other than Andy and Calder.
“Oh, hey, before I forget.” Tay swallowed his last bite of food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I got a call from a Sandy something at your office a couple days ago.”
“My writer,” Dakota acknowledged, nodding. “She’s the one who’ll interview you for the direct mail letter.”
“Yeah, she mentioned that. We scheduled a phone call for next week.”
“Thank you again for doing that.”
“I want to help.” So much earnestness filled Tay’s tone, Dakota couldn’t do anything but believe him.
Pushing his plate away, he stood and removed his wallet from his coat pocket. “I’m going to grab a cappuccino. Want anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He returned with his coffee and a brownie.
“Ooh.” Tay leaned forward to look at it when Dakota placed it on the couch between them. “What’s that?”
“Salted caramel brownie.” Dakota handed him a fork. “I got the last one. Thought we could share. The lady at the cash says they make them in-house.”
“I can’t remember the last time I had a homemade brownie. When I was a kid, we’d just do them out of a box.”
“Us too. My ex-wife used to make really good cheesecake brownies.” Before Andy was born, that was.
Tay chewed slowly, turning sideways on the couch, one leg underneath him. “Is it too early in our—” He waved a hand between them. “—to ask about her?”
“I don’t mind talking about it. It’s not an interesting story, though. Six months into motherhood, Fiona decided she didn’t want to be a mom. That she wanted to focus on her career instead.”
Pausing with his bite halfway to his lips, Tay’s mouth dropped open. “Who wouldn’t want Andy?”
Warmth popped in Dakota’s chest. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I don’t know him that well yet, but he seems like a cool kid. And I may have only been to your house three times, but it was weird not being greeted by him at the door when I arrived earlier.” Tay forked another bite of brownie. “Is Fiona still in Andy’s life?”
“Minimally. She cancels plans a lot. We haven’t seen her in months.”
“I’m sorry.” Elbow on the back of the couch, Tay rested his head in his hand. “That must be hard on Andy.”
“I don’t know.” Leaving his fork on the plate, Dakota grabbed his mug from the table and mimicked Tay’s position. “He’s hard to read when it comes to her. She was supposed to come for dinner about a week and a half ago, and the day before Andy had already resigned himself to her not coming. Which, of course, she didn’t.”
“Must be hard on you too.”
He shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing Andy hurt. Four years old and he already knows that some people can’t be relied on. The fact that it’s one of his parents no doubt makes the wound worse. I mean, how must he feel knowing his mom doesn’t want to see him?” Huffing out a breath, Dakota rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all maudlin. I’m a cheery first date, aren’t I?” He toasted a chuckling Tay with his mug.
“I don’t mind. I want to get to know you, so whatever you want to talk about, I’m game.”
“New topic,” Dakota said, giving his head a shake to dislodge unhappy thoughts about his ex. “Tell me about your classes. How are they going?”
Avoiding his gaze, Tay picked up his fork from the empty plate, licking the tines clean. The move wasn’t meant to be sensual—Tay didn’t even look at him; nevertheless, Dakota’s blood heated as Tay’s tongue swiped the tines.
“They’re going okay,” Tay said. “It’s just, with everything else, it’s sometimes hard to keep up, even with only two classes. You must be just as busy as me, though. Two jobs and a kid.”
“Speaking of being busy. You won’t believe what happened. Calder quit his job a few days ago. Long story, the gist of it being that he wasn’t happy there,” Dakota explained when Tay’s eyes went huge. “Anyway, he’s going to need more income, so he created a website for Once Upon a Time Cakes.”
Throwing his head back, Tay laughed long and loud, drawing the attention of more than one guest. “I swear, I didn’t give him the idea.”
“I didn’t expect you did. Coincidental, though, huh?”
“It’s kind of like when you see something you’ve never seen before and then you start seeing it all over the place. A couple of months ago, my Gran wanted me to get her this one specific brand of tea cookies I’d never heard of before. I swear, I see them on display every time I go to the grocery store now. Anyway.” Tay moved the plate between them onto the coffee table and scooted closer, nudging their knees together. “How is the extra business going to work for you, though?”
“We’re still working out the logistics before we make the website live. Honestly, I think I was a little hasty in how quickly I agreed to it. I’ve already got a full-time job and I don’t need a second one.”
“It’ll be good for you,” Tay said with conviction. “This is what you really want to do, right? Maybe it’ll open doors you didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, but the more I think about expenses and the uncertainty of owning a small business, the more I start to question what I’m even doing.”
“Yeah, I understand questioning your choices.”
Before Dakota could ask what he meant, Tay grabbed his coat. “Want to take a walk? It’s a nice night.”
Outside, darkness had fallen, and it was snowing lightly, clinging to bare tree branches and light posts, making everything pretty and shiny. Tay’s eyes shone under the light of a nearby storefront when he turned to Dakota. “Can I hold your hand?”
That he would ask melted something inside Dakota. “Are you allowed to?”
Shoulders slumping, Tay bit his lip.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Dakota said, giving Tay’s wrist a quick, light squeeze.
“It’s not that I’m not, exactly,” Tay clarified, blinking up at the falling snow. “My agent recommended that if I’m going to come out, I should do it in a controlled manner. It shouldn’t be an accident because I was careless. His words.” His sigh was long and loud and a bit sad. “It just sucks that something considered normal with a woman—holding hands—is a big deal when it’s two guys. Sucks even more when you’re in the spotlight. I never had to come out when I dated women.”
Spotlight . . . Tay was in the spotlight every second he stepped out the door. Dakota had to remember that. In fact, he was surprised no one at the café had interrupted their meal to ask for an autograph or a selfie.
“You’ve talked to your agent about coming out?”
Tay nodded. “A couple of times. Mason—that’s my agent. He told me to think about it. But my Gran got sick before Christmas and I was in final exams. I kind of forgot about it for a while. And then . . .”
“And then?”
Tay gestured between them again. “If I come out now, some reporter, somewhere, will find out about you, about us, and I don’t want you and Andy thrust into my drama.”
Dakota had had t
he same thought not long ago, and it warmed him that Tay was taking precautions too. But he’d carved a couple hours between meetings last week to look into it, and the more he’d researched out Canadian athletes, the more evidence he’d seen that he shouldn’t expect the worst. “One thing I’ve noticed about the Canadian press, even paparazzi, is that they’re surprisingly respectful. I don’t think they’d come after Andy.”
Tay didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe.”
“With all of the NHL players that have come out since Ashton Yager did a few years ago, do you really think it’ll be a media circus when you do?”
“My agent seems to think so. Also, you say all of the NHL players as if fifty of them have come out.” Tay chuckled. “There’s been, like, eight or nine on last count.”
“And one of them is your teammate. Have you talked to him about this?”
“Not yet. I will, though.”
Dakota slowed them near the stop sign down the street from his house. The road was quiet and sleepy, snow sticking to the grass. He took Tay by the shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “If you want to publicly come out because you feel like that’s the right move for you, just do it, Tay. You don’t let me and Andy stand in the way of something that’s so important to you.”
“I’m not letting you stand in my way. At least, that’s not how I see it.” Taking advantage of their darkened patch of sidewalk, Tay stepped into Dakota’s space, hands coming up to his hips. “I’m just conscious of my position as a professional athlete who could have cameras on him at any time. And you didn’t ask to be put in front of one. Besides, it’s . . .” Trailing off, Tay ran an ungloved hand through his hair and started them walking again.
“It’s what?”
“It feels . . . presumptuous . . . having this conversation. I mean, this is our first date. Third, maybe, if you count the two dinners at your house, and . . .” On Dakota’s porch, Tay stomped his feet to shake snow loose. The porch lights made his hair a brilliant blond. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath that fogged the air between them. “Can I be honest?”
“Please,” Dakota said despite the kernel of worry that popped in his gut.
“I like you,” Tay blurted on a whoosh of air. “A lot. Truth is, I’ve had a crush on you since we met a couple years back, and getting to know you these past couple of weeks? It just makes me want to know more.”
Dakota couldn’t have held back the grin if he’d tried.
“A few days ago,” Tay continued, “you made me come in my pants like I was fourteen again.”
“If you’ll remember, it was reciprocal,” Dakota said, chuckling. He so badly wanted to reach out and draw Tay closer, but he wasn’t sure where Tay was going with this, and it was better to have even just one foot of distance from him if Tay was about to break things off.
“Yeah. And it was amazing.” A smile graced Tay’s face; it faded fast. “But it’s not all I want. The sexual stuff, I mean. I want you. I want to get to know you. I want to spend time together outside of the sex stuff, like we’ve already been doing. I want . . . I want to date you. For real. See where this, whatever this is between us, goes. And if I come out right now, there’ll be all sorts of added pressure, and that’s not good for a new relationship.”
What was it that Dakota had thought to himself after the Foundations’ celebration party? When he’d been considering, as per Calder’s suggestion, keeping things with Tay purely sexual?
What twenty-three-year-old was looking for something permanent?
Well. Looked like he’d found one. Not that what they had was permanent, but from what Tay was saying, it sounded like that was the direction he wanted their relationship to go in.
Was it okay to feel giddy as a schoolgirl right now?
Dakota guided Tay’s hands around his back, holding them there with his own. Forcing Tay into a hug to reassure him—because the crease between his eyes and the downturn to his mouth indicated that he needed it.
“I want that too,” he said against Tay’s lips.
Which curved upward in response. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“’Kay.” It was a simple word, but the expression on Tay’s face conveyed so much more. Joy, pleasure, and relief, first and foremost.
Tay leaned his forehead against Dakota’s temple, and they stood like that for a moment, covered by the porch’s roof while the rest of the world slowly turned white. Letting Tay’s hands go, Dakota brought his arms around to encircle Tay’s shoulders.
He hadn’t expected to have the relationship talk on their first-maybe-third date. It was a relief to have it out of the way, though. And being on the same page? He couldn’t have asked for a better end to their date.
Or . . .
He kissed Tay’s temple. “Want to come in? Try my scotch?” He walked Tay backward in the direction of the front door.
“Your scotch, huh?” Tay’s gaze dropped to his lips. “How much scotch have you got?”
“Lots and lots. It could take all night.”
They were both laughing as they tumbled into the house. Before they’d gotten their coats off, Dakota gripped Tay’s hips, backed him up against the closet door, and kissed him. Tay’s laugh turned into a moan when Dakota bit his chin.
“Do you know how distracting you are,” Dakota said, peppering kisses along Tay’s jaw, “when you use a fork?”
Somehow Tay had gotten Dakota’s coat unbuttoned, and his hands slipped inside and underneath Dakota’s sweater. “Sorry?”
Dakota kissed his nose. “Not sure I believe you.”
The smile on Tay’s face was so happy, Dakota wanted to see it there for the rest of the night. “Come on.” He urged Tay out of his winter gear, then threaded their fingers together, grabbed the gift bag off the floor, and led him into the living room. From his mini bar, which was essentially a hip-high, wooden end table with a glass top, Dakota pulled out three of his favorite spirits to add to the Dalwhinnie.
And one tumbler.
“Just one, huh?” Tay said with a smirk, catching on to Dakota’s plan.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Pouring a splash of the twelve-year-old Balvenie DoubleWood, Dakota swirled the liquid in the glass, noting that its color matched Tay’s eyes and hair. He brought the tumbler up to his nose: sweet fruit and hints of sherry with honey and vanilla. Holding Tay’s gaze, he swallowed back the smooth and mellow scotch, the sherry lingering on his tongue.
“Want to taste?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Tay was on him, pushing his tongue into his mouth, hands balling the front of his sweater. Dakota released a muffled groan into his mouth.
“Mm.” Tay licked his lips, forcing Dakota to follow the motion. “Nuts and . . .” The tip of his tongue touched his top lip. “Cinnamon?”
Dakota grunted an affirmative, his dick lengthening against Tay’s thigh.
Next up was The Macallan, a twelve-year-old double cask that smelled of creamy butterscotch with underlying hints of toffee apple, candied citrus, and vanilla. Tay’s eyes were half-lidded already. He didn’t move out of the way as Dakota poured, as he sniffed the yellowy liquid, as he drank. The tumbler was barely out of the way before Tay was kissing him again, licking his way into his mouth, those demanding hands of his pressing into Dakota’s lower back.
“Honey,” Tay said, ragged. “Woodsy. But also sweet?” He licked his lips, as though he could sweep up any lingering flavor.
God damn. What had Dakota been thinking with four samples? It’d only been two and he was already drunk on Tay.
Tay must’ve been able to read minds; he chuckled and kissed the underside of Dakota’s jaw. “We still have two more. What’s next?”
Groaning, Dakota let his head fall back. “You’re killing me.”
“You started it.” Tay shifted slightly, and his own erection butted up against Dakota’s.
“Jesus.�
� Lust thrummed through his veins, made his hands slip on the fresh-orange and mango Talisker Skye Single Malt, and he spilled a drop of the gold liquid onto the floor.
He couldn’t be bothered to care that he’d wasted good scotch.
Tay’s next kiss was a touch more frantic. Despite his earlier words, he too wanted to get this moving. Gripping the tumbler in one hand, Dakota clutched a fistful of Tay’s firm butt in the other.
Ripping his mouth away, Tay said, “God. Forget the Dalwhinnie. Just fuck me into the mattress already.”
Dakota had never been happier to have sent Andy to Calder’s for the night.
In the bedroom upstairs, they were a mess of uncoordinated limbs, tugging each other’s clothes off amid kisses and laughter. Sweaters were flung into a corner of the room; jeans and briefs hit the carpet. With the energy of youth, Tay threw himself on the bed, landing on his back, crooking a finger at Dakota, all decadent and ready.
Yes. All the yesses in the world.
Tay was all hard muscles and soft skin, limber and loose. Dakota lapped him up, kissed every inch of him, investigated every little beauty mark, until he had Tay squirming and pleading beneath him. It was a delicious sight—Tay’s head thrown back on a groan, lips parted, fingers clutching fistfuls of Dakota’s hair, legs spread wide. A flush crawled up his chest, hit his cheeks. He looked wanton and lush, and he was all Dakota’s to play with.
When was the last time Dakota had hooked up with a guy? A brief blowjob at a bar after his divorce was final and Calder had babysat Andy? He couldn’t remember and it didn’t matter; it was impossible for any past hookup—male or female—to be as beautiful or giving as Tay.
Tay flipped them, straddling Dakota’s thighs, erection pointing straight out. Dakota swore, his balls tingling, and latched onto Tay’s hips. His fingers would surely leave bruises. Tay didn’t notice or didn’t care, too busy gliding his hands over the hair on Dakota’s chest. Tay’s was baby smooth in comparison, accentuating the definition in his pecs, highlighting his eight pack, showcasing the soft curls below his belly button that framed a dick Dakota wanted his mouth on. Bad.
