Page 110 of Forbidden Hockey

“Wh-Why?”

“Makes my dick hard.”

“F-Fuck.” His hand slides back, fingers curl around my neck, and he closes his eyes. Where are we again? I forget. I’m too busy trailing fingers down to his cock. It’s buried under cotton, and I don’t like that. “M-May I, Trav?”

“May you what, pretty boy?”

Whether he’s asking me to come, if he can suck my cock, or go to dinner, they’re the same to my horny little brain. I rub over his cock some more, cupping his balls.

“Dinner. Please may I go to di-dinner?”

My cock throbs, and that nice little ache he seems to put there just by existing simmers. I’ll ache for him all day, but it’s an ache I’m used to living with. It’s an ache I don’t want to live without.

“I don’t love you away from me, or out of my general line of sight.”

“Same, Trav. Fucking same.”

“I guess you can go.” I punctuate that with an aggressive suck of that pretty little pulse point on his neck. “No cutting your hair.”

I release him, and he gasps. There’s a bag of macaroni on the floor that he dropped. I lean over to pick it up, so I can dump the contents in the compost bin for him. When I stand up, his gaze is still locked on me.

“I want you to come to the next Boulder family dinner,” he says.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I mean, okay, it might not be the very next one, but I want you at Hunter’s table with him knowing you’re mine.”

He’s saying a lot without saying it. I didn’t promise him I wouldn’t go after Robin, but he did tell me in no uncertain terms not to. Would that be called faith? Is he putting faith in me todo the right thing? But what’s the right thing here? Letting some guy get away with abducting my kid doesn’t feel like the right thing to me. Turning him into worm food? Sounds like justice.

“Whatever you want, pretty boy, even if he kicks my ass.”

“Huh. Now there’s something hard to predict. Even with Hunter being younger, I’m not so sure he could kick your ass unless you let him. Think I might have to see that fight.”

“I’d rather not fight with my future-brother-in-law.”

“Brother-in-law?”

“Well, yeah. If we’re forever, then he’ll be my brother-in-law someday.” Hopefully, someday soon, if we’re telling people.

It happens again, the flip-flop sensation in my stomach, the “I’m upside down and I don’t know which way is right side up” sensation. The room tilts just enough that my knees almost buckle. Fuck do I want forever with him. I want everything. Impatience has been creeping in for a while now.

Dirk’s eyes light with mischief. “When we get married, I’ll be Dash’s stepdad.”

“Won’t that be weird for you?”

“It’ll be a little weird, sure, but I’m gonna have so much fucking fun with that. Payback’s a bitch.”

Don’t think I’ll touch that one. Some things are better left between friends.

Later, I catch up with Penny. Most of the prep cooks have left, and Dirk’s crashed in my bed where he belongs. I plan on being there with him in a minute, but there’s something I need to know. Penny’s sliding an arm into her jacket, about to leave, too.

It’s hard not to grit my teeth, ready with an offense. If Penny wanted to, she could blow this up on social media for inappropriateness in the workplace. Never mind that I’ve never been inappropriate in any way, shape, or form before with an employee. Details don’t matter on social media, only what getsviews and fucking heart emojis. People don’t stop to learn facts; they ride the wave of hearsay and public opinion.

“I want to apologize, Penny. I haven’t announced my relationship with Dirk, yet.” I clear my throat. Wish I had some damn water. Is there an overabundance of pollen in the air, or something? Just another reason to save the bees.

“And you’re not going to live to do it if you don’t breathe—breathe, Travis.” Most of the people who work in the restaurant industry are younger, somewhere in their twenties, like Dirk. But Penny’s in her thirties. Still young, but closer in age to me.

“Sorry, you’re the first person I’ve told. It’s fucking terrifying.”