by A. E. Wasp
Paul laughed. “Are we that bad?”
Jake huffed a laugh. “Yeah, dude. You’re that bad.”
“I really like him.”
“No shit,” Jake said wryly. “He’s a good guy. You could do worse. So could he.”
“Thank you.”
Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on; let’s get back down there before they drink all the vodka. Personally, I feel the need for about six more shots.”
Paul smiled and followed behind Jake. He couldn’t resist asking. “So, about you and Nikki…”
Jake stopped so fast that Paul slammed into his back. “That obvious, or did you just take a stab in the dark?”
“Pretty obvious, to me anyway, sir.”
“Stop calling me that. Jeez.” Jake ran his fingers through his hair again, scratching at his neatly trimmed beard. “Well, like I said, we all got something. Come on.”
They came down to a very different room. Sergei and Alex were gone. Dakota had his coat on and was holding Bryce’s jacket. Bryce and Nikki were having an animated whispered conversation in the kitchen.
Robbie slept on the couch, oblivious to it all.
“How long were we up there?” Paul asked Jake.
He shrugged and crept up to Dakota. “Hey. Should I ask?”
Dakota’s expression was clouded with worry and the effects of the alcohol. “Bryce let it slip that we’re planning on getting married in February. During the Thunder bye week.”
“Oh, damn,” Jake said. “That’s fast.”
Dakota’s smile held no humor. “And he told her we’re doing it because we need to be married if we’re going to foster some kids.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jake said, gaze flying to Nikki.
“Yes,” Dakota agreed. “We were going to tell everyone, obviously, just not like this.” He waved his hand across the detritus of the party.
“I’d better take her home.”
“Good plan.”
The goodbyes were more perfunctory than the hellos had been. Paul promised to make sure to deliver the gifts to the team. Dakota and Bryce hugged him. Paul took a minute to fanboy over being hugged by Bryce Lowery. It was a superlative hug.
“I know Robbie is going to forget,” Dakota said. “But you two are invited to come visit us anytime it fits your schedule. Okay? We can argue over which state has the best peaches. It’s Colorado, by the way.”
“It’s a deal. Thank you so much. It was nice to get to meet you both.”
Jake patted him on his back, and Nikki hugged him. “Sorry for ruining your party,” she said.
“I don’t think you could ruin anything, Miss Nikki.”
Nikki laughed. “You are just the cutest thing. No wonder Robbie’s so smitten.”
Told you, Jake mouthed from behind Nikki’s back. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
Paul shut the door behind them. He looked around at the mess and Robbie asleep on the couch and decided to deal with it all tomorrow.
He walked over and shook Robbie awake. “Hey. Wake up.”
Robbie looked around, bleary-eyed. “Where’d everybody go?”
“Home. It’s late, and we’re all drunk.” He hauled Robbie up to a seated position. “Let’s go to bed.”
Robbie grinned and reached for Paul. “That sounds like a great idea.” He leaned back down, hauling Paul with him, and kissed the daylights out of him.
Paul pulled back. “You taste like pickles.”
“I’ll taste your pickle,” Robbie retorted.
Paul laughed at him. “That is mighty cheesy, even for you.”
“Okay, how about, help me get to the bedroom, and I’ll blow you. Or I could do it right here.”
Paul pushed himself off Robbie and stood up. “Bedroom,” he said, holding out a hand. “Where did your crutch end up?”
Robbie looked around. “I have no freaking idea.”
“Never mind, hold onto me and I’ll get you there.” Paul draped Robbie’s arm over his shoulder. “Keep your weight off that foot,” he reminded him.
“Yessir,” Robbie said.
They got ready for bed. Paul found the crutch in the bathroom. He sighed heavily when he dropped down in the bed next to Robbie.
Robbie immediately rolled into his side, hissing slightly at the pain in his ankle. He hadn’t wanted to take the painkillers with all the alcohol. “That was some night, huh?”
“You don’t even know the half of it, you drunk. You slept through it.”
Robbie pushed himself up with one hand. “Really?”
“Really. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
“Okay.” He rested his head back down on Paul’s chest. He slid his hand up Paul’s shirt, caressing gently and making patterns on his skin. “It’s Christmas in the morning.”
“Um hm.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
Paul kissed the top of Robbie’s head. “That’s okay; I didn’t get you anything either.”
Robbie pushed Paul’s shirt up to his armpits. “Take this off. As a matter of fact, just get naked.”
“Bossy,” Paul said, but he managed to get his T-shirt and boxers off. Robbie stripped his off as well.
“That’s much better,” Robbie said, running his hands all over Paul, and sliding their bodies against each other.
Paul didn’t think he’d ever be over how amazing it felt to touch Robbie, to feel the hard muscles under his skin.
Paul rolled onto his side to kiss Robbie better. There was something different about their kisses tonight; something deep and gentle. He felt like he could kiss Robbie forever.
Tears pricked behind his eyelids as he thought about how amazing the night had been.
How accepting everyone had been. Jake’s kindness and concern. Bryce and Dakota’s easy offer of friendship, and Sergei’s calm, quiet presence. Even Alex had been funny and easy to hang out with.
And they all liked him just the way he was. Gay, straight, bi, it didn’t matter. They didn’t care. They didn’t judge him for it.
He wouldn’t have had any of it if it wasn’t for the man in his arms right now. He crushed Robbie hard against himself as it hit him how much he cared about Robbie, how important he was.
Robbie pulled away. His brow furrowed and he reached out with his thumb to wipe a tear away from the corner of Paul’s eye. “You okay?”
Paul nodded.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Robbie cradled Paul’s face with both hands and placed soft, sweet kisses on his lips.
Paul felt a tear trickle down his cheekbone.
“You sure you’re okay? Is my kissing so bad that I make you cry?”
Paul’s laugh sounded a little too close to a sob for his liking. He felt like his heart was going to explode. “No. It’s that good,” he admitted. “It makes me feel…” he took a deep breath. “It feels like…” He hesitated, unable to get the words out. What if he were wrong? What if it was just him?
He would die. Right here right now in this bed they’d bought together, he would die.
“It feels like?” Robbie prompted, hands still on Paul’s face.
Paul shook his head. He couldn’t say it.
Robbie scooted back, putting enough distance between them that he could use his hands. It feels like I love you? he signed.
Paul could only nod, every blink of his eyelids sending another tear slipping down.
Robbie smiled. That’s because I do.
I love you, too, Paul signed back, grateful they didn’t need to speak. What he felt was too big for words.
Robbie’s eyes burned into his. Then show me. Make love to me.
So Paul did.
It was the best Christmas of his life.
28
Paul
New Year’s Eve didn’t suck either.
They’d played the Sharks early, and the crowd had been pumped up. Paul loved that home game energy. When the unmistakable opening notes of Ima
gine Dragons’ “Thunder” blared out of the speakers, building and building to a crescendo, and the deep voice of the announcer yelled for everyone to bring the thunder, the stadium floors shook with the reverberation of thousands of people stomping their feet in unison and the ceiling rang with the sound of thousands of fans screaming THUNDER!
Paul would never forget the feeling of skating out to that as long as he lived.
They’d won their game that evening by a respectable two goals, mainly by not giving the Sharks a chance to score. Most of the action had been around the Sharks’ defensive ice. They could barely move the puck through the neutral zone without the Thunder taking ownership.
Of the twenty shots on goal they had gotten, Sergei had blocked all but two of them. And one of those was a lucky rebound off the Sharks’ center’s skate.
In addition, Paul and Robbie had gotten tapped to jump in with the penalty kill line. They’d kept the Sharks from even getting a shot on goal during the power play. Paul and Robbie passed the puck between themselves and around the Sharks’ offensive like they were playing a game of monkey in the middle.
After the game, the media analyzed the crap out of the increased skill and speed of the Thunder defense while the team gathered at the Pucker Up, their main hangout in town.
Close to the arena and public transportation, the Puck was an institution. A sports bar that had hit the jackpot when the Thunder had moved into the neighborhood with the redevelopment of the Key Arena.
Yeah, it was a pretty good New Year’s Eve.
It would have been perfect if that one guy would stop touching Robbie.
Paul knew Robbie was out to the team, but he hadn’t realized it was an open secret with the local fans, as well. How open was the question? He should find out what, if anything, the world was saying about Robbie.
Paul grit his teeth and smiled as he watched the guy touch Robbie’s arm again. Of course, the stupid guy was freaking gorgeous, with freckled light-brown skin and a riot of copper-colored corkscrew curls. How was that fair?
Robbie’s laugh rose above the general bar chatter, and Paul forced himself not to look in his direction. What the hell could be so funny anyway?
Why didn’t Robbie tell the guy to buzz off and come sit at the table with Paul and the rest of the team?
Paul poured himself another beer. It was probably for the best that Robbie stayed out of his arm’s reach. Since the end of the game, Paul had been counting the minutes until he could get Robbie naked. Robbie on the ice, playing like he was possessed, was the sexiest thing Paul had ever seen.
Since Christmas Eve and the whole exchange of I love yous, it had gotten significantly harder to hide their relationship. Most of the time they tried not to make too much eye contact.
Jake was making eyes at him, so he plastered on a smile and put his arm around the woman in the short red dress who had been hovering around his chair for the last few minutes.
“Hey, darlin’,” he said, laying on the Alabama thick as molasses. “Did you see the game?” He raised his voice as the eighties cover band in the back made it hard to hear anything.
“I did. You were great. I was glad Coach Williams tried you and Rhodes on the penalty kill. I was hoping he would.” She tapped a manicured fingernail against her martini glass full of something pink. “’Course, the Sharks weren’t playing their best tonight. Holiday games are hard.”
“Yeah, they are,” Paul said trying to keep the note of surprise out of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake silently laughing at him.
He pulled his arm off the woman’s hips, and really, his momma would have had a few choice words for him for being rude. “Paul Dyson, ma’am,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand firmly. “Sarah Lipe, nice to officially meet you.”
Paul had a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Lipe? That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Sister,” she said with a grin. “Little sister.”
Paul groaned as the rest of the table burst into laughter. He kicked Jake under the table. “You couldn’t say something?”
“Could have,” Jake said. “Didn’t. More fun this way.”
Paul craned his neck, searching the bar for Lipe. Luckily, he was on the other side of the room, hovering over a tiny redhead who barely came up to his nipples.
Sarah patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Danny’s not my keeper, much as he’d like to think he is.”
Paul sprung out of his chair. “Please, sit down. I can’t believe I was so rude. My baby sister would tan my hide. She’s small, but mean.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, sliding into the chair. “These stupid shoes are killing me.”
“Can I get you another drink?” Paul asked.
“I wouldn’t say no to a cosmopolitan.”
“You got it.” He gathered up the empty pitchers. “I’ll get this round, too. Though you bastards don’t deserve it. No offense to you lovely ladies,” he said to the girlfriends, wives, and fans hanging out in their rather large group.
It just so happened that his path to the bar passed by the high table where Robbie and the douche were standing. He smiled and bumped shoulders with Robbie. “Hey, loser, come join the rest of us. I’m buying, and it’s almost countdown time.” He couldn’t kiss Robbie at midnight, but he at least wanted him there. Paul’s jaw clenched at the idea of douche guy kissing Robbie.
“Hi. I’m Sam,” the guy said to Paul, flashing a charming grin. “Big fan.”
“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’d shake hands, but…” Paul motioned to the glass and pitchers he was carrying.
“I really should,” Robbie said to the guy.
Did Paul detect a bit of apology in his tone? Robbie should be apologizing to Paul for ditching him.
Robbie wasn’t done being Mister Congeniality. “You can come with us if you want,” he offered. “Meet some of the other guys.”
Paul stepped on Robbie’s foot. Yeah, he knew it was childish, but he didn’t give a crap.
“Thanks for the offer, but I should get back to my friends. They probably think I skipped out.”
Robbie took one of the pitchers. “Sorry, Sam. It was great talking to you.”
“Maybe we can do it again, some time?” He pushed his curls back from his face and gave Robbie a grin.
Good Lord, Paul thought. Could this guy sound any more desperate? Paul stood there waiting to see what Robbie would say.
“I don’t have a lot of free time,” Robbie said. “But if you see me around, come say hi.”
Sam nodded and spoke deliberately at Paul. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”
Paul was going to punch him. Instead, he settled on pasting on a smile and elbowing Robbie in the side. “Come on, Rhodes. Make yourself useful.”
With a wave and a Happy New Year to Sam, Robbie left. They pushed their way through the heavier than normal crowd.
“He seemed nice,” Paul said deadpan.
“He was. I've seen him around a few times before. How about that woman you had your arm around? She nice?”
Paul snorted. “She’s great. And Lipe’s little sister,” he admitted.
Robbie burst out laughing, and Paul couldn’t help laughing along with him.
“Did you know his first name is Danny?”
Robbie shook his head as he pushed his way to the bar, using his bulk and smile to clear the way. “I don’t think so.”
“Hey, guys,” Isaac the bartender said. “You’re just in time. I’ve got a case of champagne on ice for you.”
“Oh, sweet,” Robbie said. “Forget the beer then, hand over the bubbly.”
Isaac called for a barback, and the kid eventually got four buckets of champagne bottles set up. “You need any help carrying those?”
“Nah, we’re good,” Robbie said, scooping up two of the buckets. Paul grabbed the other two and followed him back to the table where they were met with happy cheers.
“Now it’s a party,” someone said, grabbing one of the bottles.
The barback showed with a tray full of champagne glasses. “You forgot these.”
At first, Paul and Robbie squeezed themselves into opposite ends of the gathering. But as the crowd shifted and people changed spots, they ended up leaning against the sill of the big front window, pressed together hip to hip.
Robbie leaned into him, and some of the tension left Paul’s shoulders. This sucked. Hiding sucked. It had been easier when it was just his theoretical gayness he was hiding. He was so jealous of the way Robbie got to be so open. If Paul hadn’t existed, Robbie could have brought that Sam person over to the table, and maybe even kissed him at midnight without anyone batting an eye.
As it worked out, neither of them kissed anyone at midnight, though Robbie did reach behind Paul’s back and squeezed his hand. Then he leaned over and said right into Paul’s ear. “At least you didn’t punch me this year.”
Of course, Paul punched him.
There was much champagne drunk, and many kisses and hugs exchanged. Paul wouldn’t have wanted to be anyplace else. Well, maybe one other place, he amended, watching Robbie’s eyes sparkle as he laughed, his cheeks pink from the champagne.
As soon as it was possible to leave without getting too many comments, Robbie said his goodbyes.
Robbie’s apartment was a short walk away from the bar, so they were headed there.
Paul could only make himself wait a couple of minutes, rather than the ten they had agreed on. Every part of him screamed to be with Robbie now.
As Jake hugged Paul goodbye, he whispered in his ear. “I thought you were going to punch that guy who was hitting on Robbie. Talk to the coach soon, or I’ll have to.”
“I promise,” Paul said.
Outside, Paul zipped his jacket up against the cold drizzle that couldn’t decide if it wanted to turn into a full-fledged shower or not.
He hadn’t made it a block before he saw Robbie waiting for him under the awning of a jewelry store.
He smiled as Robbie snagged him by the scarf and pulled him into the shadowed doorway.
“Happy New Year,” Robbie said, wrapping his arms around Paul for the kiss they hadn’t gotten to do at midnight.
