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There’s a hitch in my chest, and I seek out Von’s steady calm. But he’s not calm. He’s pale, shaking and sweaty. Lars looks up, speaking in Swedish to Von, who doesn’t hear him.
It hits me that Von said he had a friend who overdosed. Von is stuck in a memory and I need to get him out of here. Lars and Jayce will handle the crisis. My priority is Von.
“I have to do something.” Von’s low voice is laced with pain. “I should have known. I should have been there.” His eyes are on me, but they don’t see me.
“You did everything you could.” I hug him and turn his body so he’s not facing Dylon. “You can’t do anything more. Jayce and Lars are taking care of him, and an ambulance is on the way.” I keep a tight hold of him as I start toward the door.
No one says a word, but they part for us as I lead Von out, hockey gear and all. We hear the sirens before the ambulanceand firetruck speed into the parking lot. Von is almost catatonic, and it’s difficult loading him into an Uber XL to take him home.
The silence is so loud, I can hear the turmoil in him.
My place is closer, but I decided he might be more at ease in his loft.
Tonight is a reversal of the day he found me in the rain.
I start the shower and strip the hockey gear off him. He’s sweating but goosebumps cover his skin. I’m dying to ask a million questions, but my silent Viking only talks when he has something to say. My questions can wait.
Angling Von under the spray, I envelop him in my arms. His arms hang by his side, but after a few minutes they wrap around me and he rests his cheek on the top of my head. I nuzzle his neck and press my lips to his skin. When his arms loosen, I wash him as if I can wash away whatever is haunting him. He bends his knees and dips his head so I can wash his hair.
He lets out an agonizing sigh before plunging his head under the water to rinse.
Once we’re out, I toss a towel on his shoulders and use another to dry him off.
“I must have scared the words right out of you,” he says seriously.
Crouching in front of him, drying his shin with a towel, I grin up at him, ignoring the cock in front of my face. “You just trained me well.” I wink.
The tension in his body relaxes, and I crack my neck. “You don’t think I’m trainable?” I quip.
“I like you a little wild.” Von hauls me to my feet.
“I serve at the pleasure of my Viking.” I bow formally like I’m pledging loyalty to a king.
“Thank you.” He holds my face in his hands and the pain in his eyes is unbearable.
“We can talk or we can fuck. Whatever you need to release the pain.” He’s scaring me because he has the same broken look Cole had for years after Paxton died. Again, I’m helpless, knowing that nothing I do will take the pain away.
“Neither. Both.” Von closes his eyes and rests his forehead on mine.
“I can try to make your fancy Swedish coffee.”
“Then I’d be homeless when you burn the place down.” His lips turn up with the hint of a smile.
“No coffee for you!” I say and realize he won’t get the pop culture reference. I doubt Swedes’ stream reruns of 90s sitcoms from the US.
My phone pings with a text from Jayce, which is highly unusual, so I check it. I sigh with relief. “Jayce says Dylon will be fine. Em had naloxone, and Dylon’s recovering in the hospital.”
Von is overcome with emotion, so I tug him to bed and become the big spoon.
Von rolls over so we’re face to face. Whatever this is, he doesn’t want to hide from it.
“This isn’t about Dylon, is it?” I prompt, hoping he’s comfortable enough to talk.
He shakes his head. “My brother was my best friend and playedfotbolltoo,” Von starts and my heart falls out of my body and splats on the floor with the wordwas.
I’d been tempted to read the online articles, but that’d be cheating to get to know him and I wouldn’t know what was real or sensationalized to get more clicks.
“Boe was better than me. He broke every one of my high school records and made it to the Premier League before me, even though he was three years younger. He was a star, going to be the greatestfotbollplayer Sweden ever had.”