Page 22 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

SHIVELY

I’d like to say that making a case against an errant referee is straightforward, but it’s not.

Reno spent several days assessing the last several games that Matt refereed and pulled them all for misconduct by a ref.

He went through some procedure to submit them to whatever union or guild or shit the refs are a part of, and now we wait.

We’ve been told that the ref in question will be notified that a case has been filed against him so that he has time to prepare. According to Reno, he says he only looked at the games from this season, but the ref came into the season already emboldened.

Reno reached out to a couple of the other teams, and their coaches are definitely frustrated as well. Together, they petitioned to keep that ref from any of our games until a verdict is determined. Yesterday, that request was granted.

I’m not sure if that’s a positive outcome or not. I figure one of two things is going to happen. He will be disciplined in whatever form that referees are disciplined, or the guild of refs will say we have no case and dismiss it, which might result in this asshole becoming worse.

Either way, for better or worse, we’ve made a complaint and will see how it goes.

Today is a much-needed day off. I’m not heading into the arena for anything at all. Not even to obsess over Dasan in the weight room. Did I say obsess? I meant drool.

However, he clearly returned home an hour ago since he’s been demanding dick pics. I’m more than happy to give them to him.

I’m not naked, though. I asked outright since it wasn’t clear if that’s what he wanted. My alpha said because I asked, I could be naked or dressed if I chose, but I must be hard so I can send dick pics whenever he wants them.

There’s a distinct shift in me when I’m doing anything concerning Dasan and our relationship. It’s as if an entire weight lifts and I can just let go. Someone is there to take the steering wheel and won’t let us crash. Even when we’re apart, I can still feel that.

Mostly, as long as I’m not at the arena or a hockey-related location or event, I hover somewhere between the Coach Shively that the world knows and Dasan’s omega, Shiv.

I’m conscious of the world and know that I need to have some sense of decorum and responsibility, but I’m also not on and have the freedom to let go a little.

Never in my life have the words “dominant” and “submissive” truly taken root in my mind, and certainly not in relation to me and my life.

Since beginning this with Dasan, I probably should have looked into it a little more, especially since he expressed feeling unsure a couple weeks ago.

He hasn’t brought it up again, but he has talked about our trip from time to time.

As I’m sitting at my kitchen counter, I realize he didn’t ask me if I already had plans for the week off or even if I wanted to go. For some reason, that brings a smile to my face. Maybe that should be concerning, but to me, it feels like he wants to spend time with me. That is what he said.

We spend a good amount of time together now, but we’re always so wrung out with hockey that there isn’t a whole lot of talking and getting to know each other.

So much of it is simple intimacy. Not always sex but being physically close while we lose ourselves in the presence of the other.

Sometimes, there’s talk, but often, it’s just quiet.

I’m not expecting company, so when my doorbell rings, I glance down the hall with a frown. I don’t like being dropped in on. It’s certainly one of my least favorite things unless it’s Dasan, but then, he wouldn’t ring the bell. He’d let himself in.

Getting to my feet, I head for the door. My hand is on the door and I’m opening it when my phone buzzes with a notification. I pause in opening the door because now I think I have an issue. Sure enough, Dasan’s text demands another dick pic.

Fuck. Panic races through me as I swing the door open, in a hurry to get rid of whoever is there. I’m not expecting Trent Seagrave, so I simply stare at him.

When I coached for New York, I lived in the condo across the hall from Trent, and we hung out often. He’s a cool guy. I’d go so far as to say that he’s one of my greatest friends.

But right now, we’re a long way from NYC, and panic surges through me. I’m going to be punished. Grabbing Trent’s arm, I haul him inside and slam the door shut behind me. “Be right back,” I say, then rush down the hall to my bedroom. I shove my pants out of the way and take a quick shot of my cock.

It’s barely hard since panic is still coursing through me as I send it. As soon as it goes through, I call Dasan.

“Your picture is late,” he says as he answers.

“I’m sorry. My doorbell rang just as you texted. I got away as soon as I could, but it’s my friend. I wasn’t expecting him. I’m sorry,” I babble.

“Woah, Shiv,” Dasan says, voice low and soothing. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

I take a deep breath.

“No punishment. It’s okay.”

“But… I broke the rules,” I say miserably.

“You did,” he agrees. “Maybe half a punishment. No more pics until your friend leaves. Call me when he does.”

“Okay, Alpha.”

“Enjoy your visit, sweetheart.”

“Do I need to stay hard while he’s here?”

Dasan chuckles. “No, baby. But be ready to be hard as soon as he walks out.”

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you.”

“Mm. Go have fun.”

I feel like I’m being sent off to a playdate, but either way, I thank my alpha again and take a breath as the phone call ends. Fuck. I spend a minute taking several deep breaths to get myself together, then I pull my pants back up and turn for the door.

Shit. Trent has never seen me nearly lose my mind.

With another cleansing breath, I head out of my bedroom. Trent is standing at the juncture to all the main rooms of my house, hands in his pockets, as he looks around. Maybe looking for where I disappeared to in such a hurry.

“Was I expecting you?” I ask, and he turns to meet my eyes.

He’s looking at me with concern. Yep, I deserve that. “No,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

Even though he nods, Trent isn’t convinced. “Are you sure?” His eyes search the dark hall behind me. “Are you being held hostage or something?”

“Why do you think I’m being held hostage and not doing the holding?” I counter.

He smirks. “Fair question. I suppose your obvious panic could go either way. You have a girl tied up in your room? You can’t turn that question around.”

I sigh. “No. What’s up, Trent? You’re a long way from home.” I approach him and give him a hug. “Good to see you.”

He smiles, hugging me tightly. “You too. Been far too long.”

“Seriously, what brings you to the frozen North?”

“It’s not frozen yet. Seemed like a good time for a visit.”

He follows me into the kitchen. I open the fridge and subtly adjust myself. My underwear feels weird from the sudden softening of my cock. Who knew the cold terror of a looming punishment hanging over my head could deflate my dick like a balloon with a hole in it?

“You’re evading my question,” I point out as I turn with a couple drinks in hand. Setting them on the counter, I slide one to Trent and give him a pointed look.

Trent nods. “Just following a lead,” he says.

It would be cryptic, but I’ve known this guy a hot minute so I know exactly what he’s getting at. I shake my head. “Haven’t learned to trust him yet, huh?”

“I realize this is totally shitty of me, but we got together while he was cheating on my sister for months. It’s hard not to think that he’s going to do that to me when he finds a better offer,” Trent admits.

“So you’re still playing PI.”

“Yes,” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “No need to empty my bank account with hired PIs when I can just do it myself.”

“Your bank account in trouble?” I ask, amused.

He rolls his eyes. “Are there still exports and imports?”

Trent has always been somewhat amusing to me.

He’s the heir to a massive shipping empire.

We’re talking the prosperity of the East India Company of the 1700s.

I kind of think that his ancestors chose shipping because of their last name—Seagrave.

I mean, what else should you be doing if not something on the sea?

“Why do you think he’s cheating on you this time?” I ask as I take a seat.

He sighs. “I… nothing. I’m aware I’m paranoid and that this is ridiculous, yet here I am, traipsing across the country because he received a package of maple syrup that originated in Winnipeg.”

“It’s Canada. We’re known for our maple syrup.”

“But so is Vermont, and that’s far closer than Winnipeg. Why is he ordering from Winnipeg and not Vermont? Is it that much better tasting that it’s worth custom fees that amount to far more than the cost of the product and the shipping combined?”

I grip his arm. “I say this with love. Have you talked to a therapist?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. I need to, right?”

“I think you’d benefit from it.”

“I’m going to lose him, not because he’s cheating on me, but because I’m insecure and losing my shit over stories made up by my own head.” Trent closes his eyes and sighs, looking absolutely miserable.

“I think maybe you need to talk to him too. Where does he think you are right now?”

Trent’s eyebrows knit together. “I… don’t know.”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe he’s going to think you’re cheating on him since you randomly take off, trying to prove that he’s cheating on you?”

His eyes snap open, and he stares at me. “What the shit, no! Is that going to happen?”

“Maybe you need to give him a call and have a heart-to-heart, Trent. This has gone on for years , and that’s a whole lot of stress and noncommunication for you and Oriel.”

“I’m realizing that I’m a very toxic person. I have an affair with my sister’s long-time boyfriend and convince him that we need to be together, but fuck if I can allow myself to trust him because he cheated on my sister! How fucked up is that? What’s wrong with me?”

Trent drops his head into his hands. I change stools to sit beside him and rest my hand on his arm. “Do you love him?”

“Yes,” he answers. “So much. I’m terrified of finding out that he’s cheating on me, but I can’t convince myself to look the other way when the little voice whispers in my head.”

“Listen. Talk to him. Tell him how you’re feeling.

Tell him how you’re struggling. Tell him how much you love him.

And get some counseling together. This obsession with his cheating is taking you away from him a whole lot, Trent.

How many times have you left him to track his invisible footsteps as opposed to the time you’ve spent with him last month?

This isn’t healthy. You’re going to push yourself into a mental breakdown. ”

Trent winces. “You’re right.”

“He’s a good guy,” I tell him. “You know that better than anybody. It’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him. I’m sure this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting you.”

He flinches again, and his shoulders sag. “I’m such a jerk,” he mutters.

“Call him. Now.”

Trent looks at me. I shove him a little when he doesn’t make any effort to pull out his phone.

“Do it.”

He looks… scared. His hand shakes when he dials. I’m sitting close enough that I hear Oriel answer.

“Hey. Where are you?”

For the third time, Trent winces. “I’m in Winnipeg.”

A beat passes. “Why?”

“Because I thought you were cheating on me.”

Another beat. “With someone in Winnipeg? Trent, I haven’t left New York State in three years. What do I need to do to convince you?—”

“I’m sorry,” Trent interrupts. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Oriel sighs. “Come home.”

Trent nods. “I will.”

“Now, Trent. We need to talk.”

“If you’re going to break up with me, do it over the phone so I don’t have to cry in front of you.”

I grip Trent’s arm in support.

“I’m not breaking up with you. I told you just two nights ago that I’m spending my life with you. But, Trent, this needs to stop.”

“I know,” Trent whispers.

“Come home, baby. Please.”

Trent nods. “Yes. I’m coming home. I love you.”

“Love you more.”

A smile touches Trent’s face, and he hangs up his phone. “I wasn’t really going to cry,” he mutters.

I laugh. “I’m still amused that he knows you go out looking for his nonexistent lovers. How long has he been humoring you?”

“Longer than I deserve.” He picks his head up to look at me. “Thanks.”

I shrug one shoulder. “He’s right. This needs to stop. You need to trust him.”

Trent takes a breath and holds it, his eyes closing as he exhales. When he meets mine again, I can see that he’s ready to change the subject. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and his lips curve into a smirk as he shifts on his stool to look down the hall I’d come from.

“So… What’s back there, Shively? Who are you hiding?”

Rolling my eyes, I huff. “No one. My boyfriend was demanding a dick pic, and I have a very short window to get it to him. You just came at the wrong time.”

He turns to look at me, eyes wide. “What?”

I laugh and rub my face. “I’m going to be punished because of you,” I say, glaring at him. “I’ve been good the entire time we’ve been together and have avoided punishment. Now, because of you, I’m going to get one, and I’m… not happy about that.”

Trent blinks at me without comment. When he repeats, “What?” again, I laugh.

“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

“No, it’s entirely consensual.”

“Doesn’t sound like punishments are consensual,” he counters.

For the first time since I started seeing Dasan, I allow myself to talk about our relationship with someone, and it feels really good.