by RJ Scott
I’m so fucked up.
“I need an early night.” I kept my tone even. “Thank you.”
I could feel the weight of Gatlin’s gaze from the apartment window as I walked away from the shop.
So, I left crying until I was safe inside my car.
Back in my apartment, I felt torn apart and exposed, and my head spun. I owed it to Aarni to tell him what had happened tonight. How I’d let myself feel something for another man, so I pulled my cell out of my pocket, then stared at it for the longest time.
Finally, I scrolled my contacts and connected to Aarni, who answered on the third ring, just as I’d expected it to go to voicemail.
“Bryan,” Aarni shouted over the noise that was behind him. It sounded like a party, probably some kind of preseason thing like they had every year. Only the Raptors let loose in the wildest way, it wasn’t like the Railers’ party with family and babies and playing the piano. They would have a DJ, and even this close to playing, there would be some players who drank heavily, Aarni included.
“What am I to you?” I shouted so Aarni could hear me over the volume of the party.
“What?” Aarni shouted back.
“What. Am. I. To. You?” I repeated, speaking as loudly and clearly as I could.
Silence from Aarni as a cheer from the people in the room filled my ears. Then the chaos muffled, and I realized Aarni had taken the call somewhere a bit quieter. Knowing Aarni, it was a bathroom. He was proud that he did a lot of his best fucking in the bathroom. I’d lost count of the times that he’d had taken me in a stall at the arena.
“What the hell, Bryan? Why are you calling?”
I didn’t hang around rethinking my question. “What am I to you? Partner, lover, boyfriend?”
Aarni let out a bark of a laugh, and it was hateful and dark. “You’re a good fuck, kid. You know that is what you are to me.”
“But—?”
“What the hell do you want me to say? I’m at a party for god’s sake.” Aarni sounded pissed.
I hung up. Guilt gripped me, along with anger and self-recrimination.
The season started with a bang, with me in my backup role riding the pine. Four games and the Railers took three of them as victories. I hadn’t heard from Aarni since that night nor from Gatlin. That was okay though. I’d come to terms with messing things up with Gatlin. Aarni, on the other hand, was a raw despair I carried with me and examined at moments when my brain wasn’t filled with hockey. It didn’t help that we were starting our season with a West Coast stand, with the Raptors our first stop. Given that the two teams were in different conferences, the Railers only met the Raptors twice this season, once now, the other before Christmas. I dreaded the two games as equally as I needed to face them. Maybe Aarni would want me tonight if the Raptors won on their home ice?
Because today was the day that the Raptors met the Railers.
I wanted a chance to talk to Aarni, face-to-face, to apologize or shout or who the hell knew what. I missed Aarni so much. I missed the team.
And I feared what my place was on the Railers.
Was Aarni right when he’d warned me in the summer? Was I only there as a placeholder until they found a real backup? Was Ten a bad person, a spoiled, temperamental celebrity who got his own way? Were the Railers a team who’d somehow cheated their way to winning the Stanley Cup? Or was it Aarni who was wrong?
Confusion and self-doubt were my friends in the dark nights, and I hated them with a passion.
Somehow, I managed to keep my head in the game during practice on the Raptors’ ice. Standing here, looking up at the familiar rafters, walking past the home locker room to get to ours, I was quiet, but no one called me on it. Not even Ten who had taken to hovering around the net at practice today, half-working on tip-ins and half staring at me.
The Raptors were here, in this building. They’d had an hour out on the ice this morning, but there’d been no text from Aarni, nothing to even say hello. No one had reached out to me.
Coach called Stan and me in for a pregame meeting, Coach Gagnon there as well. The goalie coach was all kinds of serious.
“Bryan, I’m putting you in net,” Coach Benning said and sat back in his chair expectantly.
What did he want me to do? Let out a yelp of excitement at getting my first Railers start on Raptor ice? Tears that I wasn't ready? Fear of facing my old team? I felt nothing. No fear or enthusiasm or sorrow.
“I’m excited about the opportunity,” I murmured, the perfect soundbite that I’d give the waiting journalists when they asked me later.
After I fucked up and lost the game for the Railers.
“You know team,” Stan said enthusiastically and clapped my shoulder.
“I do.” I forced eagerness into my voice.
“Watch video,” Stan announced, and Coach Gagnon opened the laptop. We sat for a while, watching highlights of the shooting from the Raptors in their first few season games. They’d lost two for two so far, and I knew what that meant. They would be messy and frantic for a win.
I wanted to warn Stan about some of the shit they pulled; how much they hated the Railers. Or at least, how much Aarni hated them. I did mention it to Connor, and the captain listened to my concerns, and I caught him glancing at Ten.
Ten was always the target for other teams, the one that they wanted to take out to level the playing field. But the Railers didn’t only have Ten. We were a team, and I was backstopping that team in less than two hours.
Restless, I left the visitors’ dressing rooms and turned left, away from the main entrance to the ice and up the stairs to the roof. This had always been my favorite place at the Raptors’ arena, with views over Tucson and beyond. I snapped a couple of photos on my phone, something to remember this place by. I could show Gatlin,
Just as a friend.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
I spun on my heels. Aarni was by the door, leaning on the jamb, smirking. I immediately had an image of Gatlin front and center, and I shook my head to clear it. Gatlin was slimmer, not so bulked up, his skin marked with colors, his expression happy. This man was Aarni, taller and bigger than me, and he wasn’t happy. If anything, he looked pissed, and for a moment I felt as if I deserved his irritation. I needed to get off the roof and back down to the dressing room, suit up, and get in the zone, so I walked to the door, expecting Aarni to move to one side.
He didn’t. He gripped my arm and held me still. “Meet me after the game,” he said, not leaving any room for me to disagree. “It’ll be good to catch up.”
“You mean fuck,” I said softly and winced when his hold tightened. I attempted to slip away, but I wasn’t ready to push him too far. He pressed me to the wall and pinned me there, with a hand on my chest and the other one twisted in my hair. He tugged to expose my throat, and I waited. He wasn’t going to kiss me. He just liked it when I couldn’t move.
“We could fuck now,” Aarni suggested.
I shoved at him, testing his hold, but he slid his arm up, so it rested on my throat. The last time he'd fucked me, he’d held me there, so hard I’d seen spots in my vision, unable to think. The remembered fear took my breath, and I stiffened in his hold.
“Let me go,” I said. Pleaded.
“You remember who looked after you,” he growled and yanked my hair a little more, biting at my throat.
I needed to get away, wanted to tell him that I didn’t need looking after, that no one needed to look after me at the Railers. But he wasn’t listening, even as I attempted to string the sentences together. He spun me, and my face scraped the wall. He still had hold of my throat, and he pressed his erection against my ass.
“What the hell?” someone shouted, and with coursing fear, I recognized Ten’s voice. “Let him go.”
Aarni chuckled darkly. “If it isn’t the boy wonder,” he said to Ten. “You need to move on.”
I moved the best I could against the brick, met Ten’s gaze, and watched his concern morph into ang
er.
“We’re going,” he snapped.
“Fuck you,” Aarni responded with heat.
Ten pushed a hand between us and then somehow was in the space, separating Aarni and me.
“We’re going,” he repeated, soft but firm.
I wriggled out from the Ten/Aarni weight and gripped Ten’s arm. I had images of Aarni hitting Ten or pushing him down the stairs. “Come on Ten,” I pleaded as Ten and Aarni faced off against each other.
I heard Aarni’s dark chuckle. “See you on the ice, boys.”
I led Ten down the steps, and wordlessly, he followed me until we were at the locker room door. Then he stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.
“You want to report this? I can get Jared.”
I huffed a laugh. Ten didn’t understand a thing. That up there was my fault, and I’d very nearly gotten Ten involved in a situation he should be anywhere near. Then a thought hit me.
“What were you doing on the roof?”
“I followed you, wanted to talk to you, saw Aarni go up there, thought about how you’ve been, and decided to investigate,” he explained as if it was every day that a teammate checked on my welfare.
“How I’ve been? What do you mean?”
“Quiet, thoughtful, not yourself since you left with Gatlin after the party. Did Gatlin do something to upset you? Should I talk to Stan about it? Or is this an Aarni thing? Is he your boyfriend?”
So many questions, and my head spun as I met Ten’s earnest expression.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about. I’m good.” I pushed open the door. I had to get ready, focus, and Ten was up in my space, getting wrapped up in the mess. I didn’t need that.
Out on the ice for warmups, I stayed well and truly in my net and refused to check out the Raptors on their side of the ice. Teams had half the ice to skate on and test shots, and Stan and I took it in turns to stand in net. Ten skated over to me, stick-tapped my leg, and smiled at me. I grinned back at him and hoped to hell I faked it enough to reassure him. Up on that roof, I’d been frozen in indecision, and then Ten was there, warning Aarni away.
Wanting to know what was going on.
We headed back to the locker room, and I went into my bag, sent a quick text to Gatlin. A simple message that needed saying.
I want to see you. Kiss you. I need to talk.
Then, with confusion and pride and fear and hope all pushing for the room in my head, I skated out for the game and took up my position on the ice. The crowd booed as our team came out, wanting their displeasure to be heard, the loudest for Ten, who I’m sure was getting used to this by now. There was a video compilation of my pitiful showings for the Raptors, but the booing was all I could hear, and I wanted it over and done with.
The first shot on goal got past me, Aarni skating close after and smirking at me, winking.
Ten and Adler both came over to the net, nodded to me, reassured me. I looked over at the bench and to Stan.
Maybe it should be Stan out here. I’m going to choke again. The Raptors won the next face-off at center ice, and it was on, Ten taking the possession, a crisp pass to Lee, who sent it off the boards and onto Ten's waiting stick. All that tap-in practice paid off, the puck heading direct center, their goalie caught off to one side, and it was saved, but it was precisely what the Railers needed. A shot on goal at least and only one minute played.
They put Aarni out every shift against Ten, but Arvy protected him, worrying away at Aarni until it wasn’t just me who could see the moment that Aarni let anger get the better of him. He tripped Arvy and was sent off for a two-minute penalty, which left the Railers on the power play with only a few seconds left in the first period.
Dieter ran with the opportunity, found the back of the opposition’s net on his first power play shift, and like that we’d equaled the game.
The second period was frantic, and not one shot got past the Raptors' goalie or me. We were brick walls, and I don't know what it was about tonight, but the ice spoke to me, and I knew every move they were going to make. They were all over me in the net, Aarni deliberately barreling into me at least twice, neither of which he was called for. The cursing was loud enough for me to hear, the words designed to hurt.
I ignored it all.
It was Ten’s game in the third period, his line scoring twice, taking it to three-one, and even though they tried hard to remove each member of our first line, somehow Ten, Troy and Lee made it out alive. The expression on Aarni's face was evident. He was furious. Slamming his stick and snapping it in two pieces on the bench was what I expected. When he caught me watching, he gestured to his eyes.
I’m watching you.
A three-one win, on the road, against the Raptors, and the flight back was jubilant, which carried me along. We were going back home, and I had only one thing on my mind. I didn't overanalyze my feelings, didn't give any thought to the anxiety that still churned inside me, but when I finally pulled out my cell, I saw I had a message from Gatlin.
I miss you. And then, more importantly, he said what I wanted to hear. I want to kiss you again.
I was so up for that.
Ten
Gatlin
I had a checklist. Me. A checklist. If Garrett knew this, the shit talk would never end. But I wanted to make sure everything was right. Things were checked on the list. Everything was checked on the list.
Food. Homemade spaghetti with meatballs and a tossed salad. Check.
Wine. A cheeky little zinfandel. Check.
Music. Priest, AC/DC, Sabbath, and some Emerson, Lake & Palmer if things took a passionate turn. Check.
Atmosphere. Lights low and candles on the kitchen table. Check.
Showered, neatly trimmed and dapper host nicely decked out in black jeans, a white shirt, and black leather vest as well. Check.
Condoms. Just in case. Check.
Lube. Also, just in case. Check.
Now we needed the other half of the equation. I checked my phone for the eight hundredth time in an hour. Why I was so edgy was a mystery. I had the night well in hand and had planned for any contingency that might come up. Wow, that was laced with innuendo. Or was it only my dirty mind?
A sharp rap on the door yanked me out of my fog. I ran my hands over my hair, blew out a breath, and went to open it. Bryan stood on my tiny little porch, his smile tentative. The black stray cat rubbed around his legs.
“He’s looking for dinner. Come in.” I waved him in. He looked so damn good, so tall and so wide across the shoulders. “Just let me feed him, and then I’ll toss the pasta into the pot. Take off your coat.”
“Is he coming inside then?” I heard him ask as I grabbed the bag of tuna and egg-flavored dry cat food.
“Nah, he’s still not mine, but we talked one night and bonded. Or something.” I gave Bryan a weak smile and went outside to dump some food into the cat’s little dish. It was a cute thing with fish and tiny paw prints on it. I’d seen it at the grocery store when I went to pick up our dinner fixings. The stray purred loudly and dove into his dinner. I ran a hand down his back, once, because anything more made him edgy and he ran away. Not unlike the striking man waiting inside for me.
“There. All fed. He’ll curl up in that old box with the blanket after he eats.”
“Have you given him a name?”
“No, he’s not mine.”
“I love this album,” Bryan changed the subject, referring to Master of Reality thumping out of the speakers. “I think Ozzy is one of my top five favorite singers.”
“Oh yeah, Oz is a beast.”
He followed me into the kitchen.
I tossed the cat food back into the cupboard and washed my hands. “You can get the wine out and pour it if you’re in the mood for it. If not, there’s beer and soda in there.”
“Wine is fine.” He busied himself with uncorking the bottle and pouring us both a decent amount in the wine glasses I’d borrowed from Jess. Our fingers brushed when he handed me my glass. “I’m
feeling awkward tonight.”
“Maybe this will help.” I stole a soft kiss.
His lips pulled up into a small smile that made the candlelight glow a bit brighter.
“Can we talk before we put the pasta in?”
“Sure.” I motioned toward my living room with my wine glass. We settled onto the couch, and I turned the volume down on Oz a few notches.
“Right, so, there’s a lot of things that I want to say to you.” Children of the Grave began playing as he fidgeted with his glass, his gaze on the wine inside that glass.
“Take your time.” I ran my free hand down his arm and took a sip of the cheeky zinfandel. It was quite good. “We have all night.”
His lips twisted into a kind of smile. “My boyfriend, his name was Aarni.”
Ah okay. I caught that was right off, so yay for past tense. And Aarni? Did he mean Aarni from the Raptors? A hockey player? I didn’t ask him to confirm that, just listened to him talk.
“He was a toxic, controlling jerk who meant nothing. I thought he did…or I guess I thought I meant something to him… but I didn’t. He just got off on abusing me and hurting me.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much losing someone you care about hurts.” Oh boy, did I. I had a hole the size of the Railers’ Zamboni smack dab in the middle of my heart.
“Well, he’s not worth my pain, but it…. yeah…it hurts.” His dark eyes lifted from his wine, and I kind of fumbled around in them for a minute or two.
How had a man of my experience fallen so damn hard so damn fast?
“That part of my life is done. Arizona and Aarni are in my past. This town and this team are what’s important to me now. I want to stay with the Railers. They’re a great team. I mean, they care, truly care about each other. I want to fight for my place on the team. I need to build a good thing for myself, and that’s not just for work. Mitch said I have to find what makes me happy and fulfilled and fight for the things that do. You and the Railers make me feel good, as if I can be a whole man again.”
