by Amy Aislin
“Couldn’t.” A quick squeeze hello to Tay’s thigh underneath the table, then Dakota removed his scarf and coat, placing them on the empty chair next to him. “But I wanted to, so I rescheduled my meeting.”
Tay’s grin softened. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” He squeezed Tay’s thigh again, Tay’s hand landing on his. Tay had had a restless sleep last night and he’d been up early for practice. His smile was genuine but his eyes were tired.
“I kept replaying Desie’s accident over and over in my head,” he’d said this morning. “Sorry if I kept you awake.”
He had, up until Dakota had wrapped himself around him from behind, nuzzling his nose into Tay’s hair, and pumped his cock into wakefulness, and then into orgasm. Nothing like a bit of tension relief to help you sleep. Tay had passed right out after. Dakota was still feeling smug about it.
“How’s your goalie?” he asked now, taking his hand back before someone saw them. With his back to the room, Tay wasn’t easily recognizable, but with the restaurant half-full, they couldn’t be too careful.
Tay blew out a breath, ballooning his cheeks. “He’s got a long road ahead of him.”
“What about Alex Dean? He took a hard fall last night too.”
“He’s fine. Just bruised. You should see his lower back. Grey was fawning all over him, talking about ordering a special ointment for bruises.”
“Grey? As in . . . Mitch Greyson?”
“Oh. Um.” Tay pressed his lips together, releasing them with a pop. “You didn’t hear this from me, but they’re sort of . . .” Leaning close, he whispered, “Married.”
Dakota sat back. “No shit?”
“You can’t say anything.”
He snorted. “Give me some credit.”
“I know, I know. But I had to say it.”
Tay might’ve looked tired, but was also happy, a far cry from this morning’s exhaustion and last night’s pensiveness. Dakota nodded at the tablet on the table. “What are you working on?”
“Oh.” Sliding it closer, Tay said, “I’m redoing the very first page of my comic.”
“What’s wrong with the way you had it?”
“My style’s changed since I started it in high school. Or . . . hmm. Not changed exactly, but evolved, and I want the early stuff to match the new stuff. So I’m updating the first book.” He paused, then, “Once I finish updating the first book, I’m going to start posting it to Instagram.”
“Yeah?” Man, Tay kept surprising him at every turn. This guy who wouldn’t talk to Dakota about his art not that long ago was gearing himself up to share it with the world? He reached out to lay a hand on Tay’s neck, barely stopping himself in time. “I’m proud of you.”
A blush brightening his cheeks, Tay glanced away. “You inspired me to do it.”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.”
Tay’s eyes were serious when they met his. “You don’t think I know how easy it would’ve been for you to break things off with me when you realized I could be traded and have to leave at any moment? If you can push past your fear, then I can too and share my stupid art with others.”
A breath whooshed out of him at Tay’s words. Why weren’t they having this conversation someplace private where Dakota could kiss him like he desperately wanted to? “Tay.” He threaded their fingers together under the table. “First, your art isn’t stupid. It’s beautiful. And second, it wouldn’t have been easy, I promise you.”
Tay’s eyes were shiny in the overhead lights, their wheat color turning darker, almost gold. They dipped to Dakota’s mouth and lingered. The pad of Tay’s thumb traced figures on the back of Dakota’s hand, shooting tingles up his arm and into the base of his throat. He swallowed against the urge to kiss Tay right here and then drag him home to his empty house.
It’d been much too long since they’d been together.
Wait. Hadn’t Tay mentioned last night before bed that he could move back into his condo now? Was it nearby? Would Tay be up for a mid-day romp? Dakota was totally willing to reschedule his afternoon meeting for a booty call. Hell, he was willing to play hooky for some action that didn’t involve his own hand in the shower.
Having a sex life with a child was hard.
Speaking of hard, Tay’s cock plumped under their hands in his lap, and his smile turned so suggestive, Dakota almost threw caution to the wind and kissed him.
“Hey, kid.”
Two women Dakota’s age with Tay’s hair and eyes sat on the bench seat across from them. Tay let go of his hand with a wink and turned to them, introducing them to Dakota. Tay had the same features and skin tone as his sisters, but whereas Tay was muscled from years of hard training, his sisters were smaller boned although almost as tall as him.
Dakota braced himself to sit through lunch with the two women who’d severely affected Tay’s ability to open up, prepared to come to Tay’s defense if he had to.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dakota,” Anna said, removing her earmuffs. Leaving them and her coat on the bench seat next to her, she raked her pixie cut back into place.
“Yeah, I didn’t actually think you were real,” Stella said, a teasing lilt to her voice. She tossed the end of her long ponytail behind her shoulder.
Tay stiffened. “You thought I made him up?”
The server interrupted to grab their drink orders. As Tay ordered, Anna and Stella shared a loaded glance that spoke of regret. Dakota tucked that into his pocket for later, his protective instincts reducing to a quiet simmer.
Anna nodded at Tay’s tablet after the server left. “What are you working on?”
“It’s nothing.” Tay flipped the cover and tucked the tablet into the backpack at his feet.
Expectant gaze shuttering, Anna slumped at Tay’s shut down.
“Is it your art?” Stella asked with an encouraging smile, picking up where Anna left off. “Mom said you’re still working on the little comic book you started in high school.”
Dakota’s eyebrows flew up. “Little?”
“It’s nothing,” Tay said again, speaking over him. “Just something I fiddle with in my spare time.”
It was definitely more than that if Tay was getting ready to post the first book for everyone to see, but he’d closed up under his sisters’ questions, braced for rejection or ridicule. Dakota didn’t blame him. Tay had been so surprised when he’d expressed sincere interest not just in his art, but in him. He’d been unwittingly—and, most likely, accidentally—trained by Anna and Stella to believe no one cared about what he had to say.
Watching how careful Anna and Stella were with Tay, though, it was so obvious to Dakota that they were dying for more from him. Sure, their relationship hadn’t been the best growing up; they were older now, though, and Anna and Stella, like Tay, had grown up and matured and seemed to be attempting to make amends.
Tay couldn’t see that, too used to how things had been. Dakota tried sending his sisters a mental you’re going to have to do better than that message. It must’ve worked, because Anna said, “Can we see it?”
“Oh, um.” Tay gripped his water glass, running a nail through the condensation. “It’s not really ready yet. And we don’t have time, right?” He turned to Stella. “Don’t you have to get back to work soon?”
Her smile was frustrated and sad. “Right. So.” She pulled a notebook out of a purse the size of a highway billboard. “Here’s what we still have to do for Mom’s surprise party.”
Dakota let them talk around him, attention mostly on Tay, even when their lunch eventually came. Tay was looser with his words, less reserved when the conversational topic was off himself. They checked items off Stella’s to-do list, made notes next to others, confirmed details, and generally spent an hour finalizing everything.
“Okay.” Stella pushed her empty plate away and brought the notebook closer. “Last item is the cake. Tay?”
Tay elbowed him. “Kota’s on it.”
Anna polished off
her superfood bowl. “You’re a baker?”
“Cake decorator,” Dakota clarified. “Tay said your mom’s a firefighter, so here’s what I was thinking.” Out of his coat pocket, he pulled a sketch he’d worked on last night during Tay’s game. “Let me know what you think.”
He’d drawn a three-layer cake: a white and red cake on the bottom with an ax on the side, topped with a second layer with their mom’s fire station emblem surrounded by flames, and the third layer was silver with a fire hydrant and hose. On top of that third layer was a small firefighter helmet. A ladder leaned against the height of the cake.
“Wow.” Stella ripped the paper out of Anna’s hands. “You can really do this?”
“Totally,” Tay jumped in. “You should see his cakes. They’re amazing. Here.” He pulled out his phone and brought up a photo of the golf cake. “Look at this.”
“Ooh,” the sisters said.
“Do you have a website?” Stella asked. “We order a cake at the office once a month to celebrate the birthdays that month. This is way better than the grocery store ones we’ve been getting.”
“Once Upon a Time Cakes,” Tay said. “Look it up. They’ve got a new website.” To Dakota, “I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a logo.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin and stood. “Be right back. I need to wash my hands.” His burger had been the size of his face and messy to eat.
“Do you have a business partner?” Anna dug a wallet out of her coat pocket. “Tay said they.”
“My cousin. He does the baking; I do the decorating.”
“And Tay’s drawing you a new logo?”
“Yeah.” Dakota rubbed his jaw. “Ours is outdated.”
The server came by to grab their empty plates. “Can I get you guys anything else?”
“Just the bill,” Stella said, already donning her scarf.
“One or separate?”
“One,” Anna said.
“Separate,” Dakota said at the same time.
“One,” Anna confirmed with a quiet laugh. “My treat.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Shh.” Stella glared at him. “Don’t argue. What’s wrong with you?”
She sounded so much like Tay that it made Dakota laugh.
Tay returned as Anna was paying the bill, and then she and Stella were shrugging into their coats. Dakota stood with Tay to see them off.
“Dakota.” To his surprise, Stella hugged him. “It was so nice to meet you. Sorry we couldn’t talk more, but I’ve got to get back to the office for a meeting.”
“And I’ve got errands to run before my shift at the hospital,” Anna said. She didn’t strike him as a hugger, and he was proven right when she offered her hand instead. “Tay, do you have time to get together again before the party so we can finalize last-minute things?”
“Yeah.” Tay’s shoulder brushed Dakota’s, accidentally or on purpose, Dakota didn’t care. He wanted more. “I’m on the road for a week starting Tuesday, but I’ll be back in plenty of time to help out.”
“Aren’t your exams the week of Mom’s party?”
“Week after. Second week of April.”
“How are classes going anyway?” Stella pulled on gloves and looked like she already had one foot out the door but appeared to genuinely want to know.
“They’re fine.”
Yet another exchanged glance between Anna and Stella. They held an entire conversation with just their eyes.
Stella hugged Tay. They were gone with a wave a second later.
“Thanks for coming today.” Tay brushed their shoulders again—on purpose this time—before sitting. “I thought it’d be easier for you to meet them first instead of the whole family at once.”
Tay had invited him and Andy to his mom’s birthday, the thought of which admittedly left Dakota with baby butterflies. It’d been a long time since he’d done the meet-the-parents thing.
“I have an observation,” Dakota said, sitting in Stella’s spot across from Tay. “And then a question.”
Leaning onto his forearms, Tay grinned. “Is the question related to the observation?”
“Not one bit.”
“Shoot.”
“My observation—” Reaching out, Dakota briefly touched the tips of Tay’s fingers with his own. “—is that your sisters really do want to know about your art and your classes. I know it wasn’t the best trying to get their attention when you were growing up, but I think they’re genuinely trying to get to know you now.”
Tay bit the side of his lip, the rest of it plumping out deliciously. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, the tease. Didn’t matter one iota to Dakota’s libido.
“You think?” Tay sighed. “You know, I think one of the reasons I chose paramedicine—aside from wanting to help people—was so I could have something smart to talk to them about. Except I freeze up when they ask, expecting them to laugh at me or . . .” He shook his head.
Dakota mimicked Tay’s position, bringing them closer over the table. “Has it ever occurred to you that they might not know how to talk to you either?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a lot working against you. The age difference, for one. Your genders, for another. And third, your interests. You’re into hockey and art, and they’re . . . not, I’m assuming.”
“Huh.” Tay cocked his head. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Just something to think about. There’s got to be some common ground somewhere.”
“Right. Thanks. Anyway.” Finishing his water, he set the glass aside and reached for his scarf. “What was the question?”
Dakota leaned even closer, anticipation making his blood sing. “What are you doing right now?”
“After this, you mean? I should pack up my stuff at Dean and Grey’s and move back into my condo.”
“Where is your condo?”
“On the waterfront.” Tay jerked his chin vaguely south. “About a fifteen-minute walk from here.”
Excellent. “How do you feel about packing and moving another day, and you and I can have the afternoon to ourselves? Maybe you can show me your apartment.” Dakota dropped his voice. “Your bedroom.” Dropped it further. “Your bed.”
“Hm.” Tay’s eyes lowered to Dakota’s mouth, a smile playing around his lips. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”
“Nope.” Not once had Dakota ever played hooky. Sure, he’d called in sick once or twice when he wasn’t actually sick, but to walk out midway through the day, without telling anyone he wouldn’t be back until Monday?
Tay was either a really bad influence or a really good one.
Hell. You only lived once. He’d reschedule his meeting on the walk to Tay’s.
“In that case,” Tay said with a grin, grabbing Dakota’s coat and handing it to him. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The atmosphere at The Loose Moose on the Saturday night his team won their game—clinching them a spot in the playoffs—was much, much different than the quiet lunch he’d shared with Dakota and his sisters just yesterday afternoon. It was standing room only, bodies filling every available nook, cranny, and table. The line up at the bar was four people deep. By Tay’s guesstimate, seventy-five percent of the crowd wore Toronto’s blue-and-white jersey. Every television in the place played highlights of tonight’s game. He sat surrounded by all of his teammates save one—Lacroix, who’d had to bow out for whatever reason.
It was rowdy, it smelled like beer, and the music was so loud it vibrated in his bones. Tay loved it. However, he’d love it more if Dakota were here. He understood, though—Dakota needed to take Andy home.
Come celebrate with us?!?!? Tay had texted Dakota after the game.
Can’t, Dakota had written back, complete with a sad face emoji. Gotta take Andy home. Calder apparently has a very late date, so he can’t babysit. Come over after? I’ll leave a key under the mat.
Tay: It’ll be late.
Dakota: Ask me if I ca
re.
It was already past one in the morning. Tay had been plied with beer from more than one teammate, taken selfies with more than one fan, and had eaten enough nachos for his stomach to bulge unattractively.
“Here it comes, here it comes!” From the next table over, Xappa stood on his chair, beer held aloft, gaze on the nearest television. “This is where we win this shit!”
The TV showed a highlight from overtime, volume off, but that didn’t matter. Tay had lived it mere hours ago.
He’d been sweating his balls off, anticipation making his ears ring. Two of Columbus’s players blocked the net as he approached with the puck he’d stolen from their third player. No dice; he’d never get it passed them. He swung around the net, his opponents so busy keeping an eye on him—the guy with the puck—that they didn’t notice Grey come out of nowhere and strategically place himself in front of the net. Tay saw him, though, and the next few seconds slowed. The roar of the crowd muted; a loose thread in his glove he’d been able to ignore all night tickled his pinky; his own breath was heavy in his ears; the sweat-soaked collar of his jersey was rough against the back of his neck.
In the next moment, he sent the puck Grey’s way. It barely tapped Grey’s stick before Grey sent it flying at the net. It rebounded off the goalie’s stick. One of the Columbus players flipped it away, except it bounced off the end of his teammates’ stick right in Tay’s direction, and even though it was utter fucking chaos, Tay risked the shot.
He lit up the lamp amid a roar from the crowd that was the loudest he’d heard it in a long time.
On the television, they replayed the highlight from several angles. Xappa rotated in Tay’s direction and pointed at him. “To that motherfucker over there!”
Tay’s skin tingled, his grin stretching his facial muscles. They’d won. They’d fucking won. They could lose every game from here on out, and the team behind them in the rankings could win every one of theirs, and they’d still be in the playoffs. It was the first time in Tay’s professional hockey career that he’d made it this close to the Stanley Cup. This lightness in his chest? This desire to run down the street shouting in happiness? This restlessness that made his fingers drum on the table and his leg bounce?
