Page 18 of Walking on Broken Paths

Chapter Fourteen

“Ungh. Shit. Harder, Jess.”

Grunting through his own pleasure, Jesse pumped into Parker with short, sharp thrusts and buried his head in the back of Parker’s neck.

Parker was facedown beneath him—his favourite position, he’d told Jesse—Jesse’s chest pressed up against the bumps and grooves of Parker’s spine.

The slap of flesh against flesh was loud over their grunts and curses, and the sensation of Parker squeezed around him was possibly the best sensation in the world.

Jesse followed the line of Parker’s arm from shoulder to wrist with one hand and twined their fingers together. He held himself up with the other, enough to feel Parker beneath him but not squash him.

His hips faltered as he chased his orgasm, and he almost laughed when Parker crushed his forehead into the pillow with a rough, “Don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m almost there.”

“Christ, you’re bossy.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Jesse did laugh then, unable to help himself. “Asshole. You made me lose my rhythm.”

Parker turned his head and grinned at him, and a bead of sweat travelled down his temple. “Make me come, Jess.”

Need consumed Jesse, urgent and fierce. He found his rhythm again, Parker’s high-pitched “Yes, yes, yes,” oh-so-sweet in his ears.

Parker came a split second before him, going rigid in Jesse’s arms. Jesse buried himself inside him, his fingers tensing around Parker’s as a current of energy zapped him from head to toe.

He came with Parker’s name on his tongue and Parker’s scent in his nostrils and Parker’s body sheathed around him.

Parker, Parker, Parker . That was all he could think.

Until Parker threw an elbow back and ordered him to move. “I’m in the wet spot.”

Jesse pulled out gently and rolled over, bringing Parker with him.

On their backs, with Parker half on his chest, they sucked in air and got their breathing under control.

They’d gone to bed an hour before sunrise, and considering it was just after nine, Jesse should’ve felt like he’d been run over by a truck.

Apparently, sex with Parker was invigorating—Jesse’s blood thrummed like he’d consumed seventeen energy drinks.

“Feel free to wake me up like that again,” Parker muttered.

Jesse stretched his arms above his head. Smacked his lips together.

He needed a toothbrush. Badly.

“Want to share a shower?” he asked.

Parker made a noise of assent.

Jesse wiped them both off with the towel Parker had brought from the bathroom earlier in the night. Finding a clean spot clear of crusted come wasn’t easy, but he found one eventually. He tossed it aside, then rose and headed for the window, where he pulled the blackout curtains apart.

“Damn.” He whistled low. “See that?”

Parker hefted himself onto his elbows. “Is that rain? Ugh.”

“Perfect day to stay inside and do more of what we just did.”

“We have brunch with Gavin and Trev.”

“Who?”

The joke wasn’t that funny, but Parker laughed like it was. He sat up and kicked the cover off. “What time is brunch?”

“Eleven thirty.”

Parker snorted. “That’s not brunch. That’s lunch.”

“It’s an all-day breakfast place, so I guess it counts?”

Jesse’s phone rang on the nightstand, drawing both their gazes. Unknown name , the caller ID displayed, along with an area code 416 number.

Local, then.

Did Jesse know anyone in Toronto who had his number?

He almost let it go to voicemail but answered at the last minute. “Hello?”

“Is this Jesse Melnik?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

He was treated to a snort-laugh. “This is Mitch Greyson. I got a call from Emery Stanton that you’re having trouble getting in touch with my brother-in-law.”

Jesse squared his shoulders. Damn—Stanton had worked fast. “Yeah, thanks for getting back to me.”

“No problem.”

Someone on Greyson’s end asked him if he’d packed the passports, and Greyson answered with a muffled, “Yeah, in my backpack,” no doubt having moved the phone away from his mouth.

“Is this a bad time?” Jesse asked, his focus momentarily diverted to Parker’s naked ass as Parker walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Greyson said. “My husband and I are catching a plane tonight for our annual trip, so we’re just packing a few last-minute things.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Germany. Stanton’s call was timely. If I’d been in Germany already, I would’ve ignored him. So what was this he was saying about a book you’re writing?”

“Not me,” Jesse said, searching for last night’s underwear.

He suddenly felt exposed talking to a fellow hockey player while standing around naked, which made no sense considering Greyson couldn’t see him.

“My—” He fumbled for a moment, unsure what to refer to Parker as.

“My friend,” he finally settled on, but even though it was true, it also had a ring of untruth.

Or at least not the full picture. “He’s writing a book on the evolution of LGBTQ+ acceptance in pro sports, and he wants to interview Ashton Yager for it if he’s willing, but he hasn’t been able to successfully get in touch. ”

“Can you tell me more about your friend?”

“Parker Willis. He’s a sports reporter. He used to cover minor league hockey for the Montreal Gazette before... Actually, you know what? He’s right here. Why don’t I pass him the phone? That way you can ask him whatever you’d like.”

“Perfect.”

Jesse muted the phone and headed to the bathroom, still naked—where his underwear had ended up was anybody’s guess—and knocked on the door. “You decent?”

“Never,” came the reply.

Huffing out a small laugh, Jesse said, “I’ve got Mitch Greyson on the phone. He’s?—”

The door whipped open, and Parker stared at him, wide-eyed. “Forward for Toronto. I know who he is. Why’s he on the phone?”

“My old teammate in Vancouver? He came through. Greyson is Yager’s brother-in-law.”

If it was possible, Parker’s eyes widened further, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“I think Greyson’s willing to put you in touch with Yager.” Jesse held the phone out. “But he wants to vet you first. I think he just wants to make sure you’re not a random fan looking for access.”

Parker snatched the phone out of his hand.

“Unmute it first.”

He did so, then put it to his ear. “Hello? This is Parker.”

Jesse left him to it, and since Parker was using his phone, he got out his iPad and sat in the armchair.

Jesse:

Mitch Greyson called. Thank you.

Stanton:

Your friend’s book sounds cool. And very much needed. Good luck. Hope it works out.

Why did you help me? Jesse typed out, but he deleted it without sending it. It felt too... juvenile? Or something. He wasn’t sure what. Just that asking was like putting himself in the hot seat, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Stanton had to say about him.

Jesse:

This project means a lot to my friend. So truly. Thank you.

Stanton:

Happy to help.

“I want to start before Yager, you know?” Parker was saying when Jesse tuned back in to his conversation.

Parker paced a tight path between the end of the bed and the wall, gesturing with his free hand as he spoke.

“I want to chronicle what it was like for LGBTQ+ athletes before Yager came out and then look at after. How has the locker room evolved, but also how have opportunities for those players changed? How has public perception changed? How—what?... Nah, I thought I’d self-publish.

Just thinking of going the traditional publisher route honestly gives me a headache.

” His jaw dropped at something Greyson said.

“Wow. Really? To be honest, I’m not sure I want the constraints and expectations that come with being signed by a traditional publisher, but it can’t hurt to talk to them, right? ”

Jesse went into the bathroom to give him privacy, but he’d barely started the shower when Parker barged in.

“Holy shit, Jess.” He grabbed Jesse’s face in both hands and kissed him.

Hard. Gross morning breath and all. “Holy shit. He’s going to pass on my number to Ashton Yager.

Can you believe it? And he even offered to introduce me to his husband’s publisher.

Or I guess I should say that he volunteered his husband to introduce me.

” Beautifully flushed and bright-eyed, Parker fisted both hands in his hair, showcasing the muscles in his biceps.

“And he said if I need more interview subjects in hockey, he’d be happy to help, and so would his husband. ”

Mitch Greyson and his husband, former defenceman Alex Dean, had come out a few years ago. Considering they’d already been secretly married for ten years when they’d done so, it had caused quite the stir until something more interesting in hockey news had come along.

Parker grabbed Jesse’s face again and planted another one on him. Jesse chuckled into his mouth. A Parker who was so excited he was practically bouncing on his toes was better than scoring a goal.

“Thank you.”

“You can thank Stanton,” Jesse said. “He’s the one who facilitated this.”

“But you’re the one who reached out to him. So, thank you. I’m so goddamn happy.”

“I can tell.” Jesse nodded down at Parker’s erection. “Want me to take care of that?”

“As a matter of fact...” Grinning, Parker backed Jesse into the shower. “I do.”

* * *

Despite the rainy day, they managed to pack it full of activities, and Jesse couldn’t complain about getting to spend more time with Gavin.

Brunch—“It’s definitely lunch, Jess.”—followed by a trip to the St. Lawrence Market because Gavin and Trev needed to pick up a few things.

Then they’d hit up the Bata Shoe Museum—not as boring as it sounded—before Gavin and Trev had said their goodbyes.

Gavin was headed to the theatre to get ready for tonight’s performance, and Trev had a shift at a jazz bar, where he worked as a server.