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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TUCKER

I was sore as fuck from the night before, sated in ways I hadn’t been in…God, I couldn’t even remember, and presently, almost completely blind. I was currently being tested to see if I was a candidate for scar removal surgery that would improve my vision, but it came with a battery of tests that fucked my eye to hell and back for several hours.

Luckily, I’d done this about fifteen dozen times, so I had my trusty cane with me and the route to the rink memorized. My first lesson of the morning was easy. A little toddler with LCA who was learning to balance on skates. It was mostly just setting him up with a Skate Mate, holding the back of his teeny-sized jersey, and ensuring he didn’t bash into too many walls.

His mom clapped and cheered when he did a spin at the end of the lesson, and then it was over. She shoved cash into my hand, which would go directly to my electric bill fund, and then she was gone.

And I was finally on my own.

I loved the feeling of being alone at the rink. Even unable to see anything other than a weird white fog, the vastness of it was comforting. Just like the ice beneath my skates.

I couldn’t feel it the way I used to, which had thrown me at first, but I’d told my first physical therapist that the one thing I wanted to do was to be able to skate again. She hadn’t made any promises, especially considering the state of my hips, but she hadn’t let me give up hope either.

And after more than a year, I was able to look her in the face and tell her that I was back on the ice.

I’d never win a race again, but I could do this. Skating in circles was a way for me to let go. To breathe easily. To feel connected to my body in ways I didn’t often get outside in the real world. And I was allowed to indulge for a whole hour before my alarm went off because next was our team meeting.

Bodie had called the meeting in the team group text, and I was not looking forward to this. I hadn’t seen him since he was ejected from the game, and the only time I’d heard from him was right after with a single message.

Bodie: Fucking traitor.

That one had stung, but only because technically, he was right. I’d agreed to help take Hugo down, but Bodie hadn’t told the entire truth about him. He had us believing the guy was an incompetent, rich asshole who somehow bought his way into the position as our coach.

We weren’t a professional team, but the guy was good, and he deserved a fair shake. Even if I did want to know why he’d been chosen over a disabled coach who would have understood us.

Still, I had to face my best friend because at some point, I had to come home and live with him. Whatever was happening between me and Amedeo was nice, but it wasn’t meant to last. Not if he was going back in a week.

Sliding onto the bench, I pulled my little wrench out of my pocket and began to unhook my skated feet from my legs. They flopped heavily to the sides, and I quickly pulled out the bag from under my seat and grabbed my walking feet.

This was also something I could do totally blind. I’d done it blind drunk before. I’d done it half-asleep. I think I’d also done it entirely asleep a few times. I felt them click into place, tightened the bolts, then stood up and tested my balance.

I was always a little off when I had my eye fucked with, so I groped back into the bag for my walking cane, leaning heavily on that as I unfolded my white cane and began to make my way toward the side entrance.

I paused when I heard something slam shut. It sounded like the rink’s front door. Technically we weren’t open, but we always kept it unlocked for any of the non-public skaters who wanted to get some ice time but didn’t have a key.

When I was met with silence, I turned again, then halted a second time when I heard a nervous throat clearing.

“Tucker?”

I’d know the sound of his voice in a pitch-black room. I turned, wishing I could see more than a white fog. “Hey. It’s early.”

His footsteps padded softly over the worn carpet, then stopped somewhere near me. I waited a beat, but he said nothing.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I, yeah. A-are you?”

I frowned, and it took me a full thirty seconds to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, yeah, no. I’m good.”

“But—” My guess was he was pointing at the white cane. Or maybe the walking cane. Once again, a stark reminder of how much he didn’t know about me.

“I had an eye doctor appointment, and the drops they use fuck my vision for most of the day. My balance sucks when I can’t see.”

“Oh. Um…”

“It’s not a big deal. Trust me. This happens a few times a year.” Pulling both my canes closer toward me, I took a tentative step forward until I could smell a waft of his soap. He must be freshly showered, and God, I wanted to touch his warm, clean skin. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I am now.”

Because of me? That couldn’t be possible. But his tone was so…warm. So relieved.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you this morning. You got my note, right?”

He laughed, and I heard him shuffle a step closer. “I got your note. I wasn’t upset that you were gone. Just…” He stopped again. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

I wanted to ask him to tell me everything—to spill it all. To unload whatever was sitting on his shoulders. But the buzzing in my pocket reminded me I had somewhere to be. “I have a meeting right now. Kiss me, and then if you want to, wait for me?”

He stepped into my space, careful at first, and then he slid his arms around my waist, and I leaned into him. Fuck, he felt so good. “I don’t want to take up your time today.”

I was desperate to tell him he wouldn’t be taking up any of my time, but I had so much to do, and it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if my focus was elsewhere. “Meet me for lunch.” I tilted my face up, hopeful for a kiss.

He cupped my jaw. “Where?”

“Your place? I’m not a big fan of eating at restaurants when I can’t see much.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Depends on how good you kiss me right now,” I said, deciding I’d waited long enough.

He laughed, then tilted my head back and gave me exactly what I’d asked for. The ends of my legs flexed in the sockets like I was trying to curl my toes, and I opened my mouth to let him in. He tasted like mint and coffee.

“Mm,” he hummed against my mouth.

“Oh, get a fucking room, for Christ’s sake.” That was Ford.

Amedeo stiffened against me, then pulled away slowly, his breathing a little heavy and hitched on his inhale. “H-hi. Hi. N-nice to see you again. We were just?—”

“Oh, I saw what you were just,” Ford said. Amedeo jostled, and I knew Ford had grabbed his shoulder, so I dropped my walking cane, threw my arm around him, and tugged him away.

“Hands,” I barked.

“Touchy,” Ford answered with a low whistle. “I didn’t know we were allowed to bring guests to the meeting.”

“Oh. I w-wasn’t,” Amedeo stammered. “I mean, I just stopped by to?—”

“Mind your fucking business,” I snapped, cutting Ford off. I loved my friends, but Amedeo wasn’t used to this, and I wanted to ease him into their bullshittery.

“Hey,” Ford said, the humor dropping from his tone, “I was just joking. It’s really nice to see you, okay?”

I felt Amedeo relax in my hold. Not a lot, but enough. “It’s good to see you too. I should go though. Let you get to your meeting.”

Shaking my head, I reached for his chin and turned it back toward me again, kissing him short but fiercely. “Eleven thirty?”

“I can do that. That gives me enough time to run to the store and put stuff away before I have to be back. Where should I meet you?”

“At the curb out front,” I told him, then kissed him a third and final time. “See you then?”

“I’ll be there.”

I let him go reluctantly, listening to his feet shuffle on the floor and then as he stammered a goodbye to Ford before hurrying off.

Ford laughed, and he hip-checked me. “Want a guide?”

It was easier than trying to navigate with my cane. I used it so infrequently I wasn’t the best, and I didn’t feel like getting lost for half an hour and pissing Bodie off even more. I folded it, shoved it into my pocket, then took his arm.

“So. You and Bodie talk last night?”

Ford sighed as he led the way toward the side door. “If you want to call it that.”

“Was he pissed I didn’t come home?”

“He was pissed about everything. But he thought you were at my place. I’m guessing you were with the hubby.”

My cheeks flamed when Ford called him that. I hated how much I wanted that to be real because that was fucking nuts. I didn’t know him—at least, not the way a man should know his husband. Though knowing exactly what his dick felt like in my hand and what noises he made when he was really turned on had to mean something.

“I crashed at his. I wasn’t in the mood for Bodie’s crap.” Squeezing Ford’s arm, I tugged him to a halt. “Look, I’m here for asking Hugo how he got this job and why he was picked over someone else who probably should have gotten the job, but I can’t deny he’s good at what he does.”

Ford was quiet for a long moment. “I know some things.”

“Like?”

He groaned. “He grew up with two disabled parents. His dad’s a little person, and his mom has spina bifida. So does his brother. And he’s got a ton of experience with hockey, though he kept that one pretty close to the chest. He doesn’t get us, but he gets us, you know?”

“Bodie isn’t going to like that.”

“No. He’s not. I’m not convinced he didn’t know that already though. He has a giant baseball-bat-sized stick up his ass, and I don’t think it’s really about Hugo being our coach. But he’s determined, bud, and I think it’s going to be a problem.”

I groaned. “Look, if this was the para-pro team or the league, I’d be on his side. But this is fucking beer hockey, bro. It’s not that deep.” I knew as soon as I said it, I was wrong. For Bodie, it was that deep. Anytime ice, sticks, and a puck were involved, it was that deep. He had scars the size of Canada, and no amount of sympathy would ever let us fully understand what he dealt with.

“Tuck, you know it’s more than that for him.”

“I know. But I don’t want this, babe. I don’t want it to be miserable here because he can’t self-regulate.”

“We need to talk to him,” Ford said. “Outside of this meeting. This is just going to be him ranting and raving about how we have to follow his orders, not Hugo’s. Just grin and bear it, okay? Then we’ll have?—”

“An intervention?” I suggested.

“I mean, if you want him to put snakes in your bed, sure. Call it that.”

I laughed and urged him forward. “A chat, then. A nice, long, get your head out of your ass chat.”

“Whatever you say.” He put his hand over mine, squeezed me tight, then led the way into the locker room.

* * *

It was as bad as I’d feared. I couldn’t see Boden, but I could hear the tap of his crutch tips and the clink of the arm cuffs as he paced slowly in front of everyone. No one was brave enough to say anything. I could hear wheelchair wheels squeaking on the polished floors and the shuffling of people on benches uncomfortably trying to handle his rant.

“I’m not saying we need to commit mutiny,” Boden concluded his long speech about what a terrible coach Hugo was and how we all needed to rebel, “but we are not going to take this on the chin. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a soft murmur that sounded like agreement, but I was pretty sure everyone was doing it so they could get dismissed without him launching into another tirade. Most of the guys liked Hugo, and I understood why.

Fuck, we had to fix this.

When Boden dismissed everyone, I felt a grasp on the back of my neck. Carter—our goalie—was in my ear. “You and Ford are going to talk to him, right? Because this is unhinged.”

I grimaced. “We’re going to do our best.”

“I don’t know if I dislike this guy,” Carter said. “I mean, he seems like a pretentious ass, but his plays won us the game.”

Yep. I couldn’t deny that as much as I wanted to. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if we’d lost. Then we could safely say the new coach sucked, and I wouldn’t feel guilty about Boden’s plan. But that wasn’t going to be the case.

I kept my ass planted on the bench as everyone else filed out, and through the fog in my eye that was finally starting to clear a bit, I could see two shadows. Ford was sitting, Bodie was still pacing.

The silence in the room was tense and thick enough I could have carved shapes in it with a pocketknife.

“So,” Ford said when we were alone.

“I’m not in the mood,” Boden snapped back.

I spun my body toward him. “Too bad. We are.”

“Oh? Is that so?” His accent always thickened when he was pissed. “Calisse, you really think you have anything to say to me after you abandoned me last night?”

I knew he wasn’t talking about me going to Amedeo’s. Or, at least, not entirely. I threw up my hands. “You were out of line, Bode. You want to pick a fight with Marser, fine. Go for it. But you cannot attack your coach .”

“We all agreed!” Bodie shouted. His crutch tip slammed on the floor. “We all agreed that he has no place here, and you left me to the fucking wolves.” He muttered a long string of angry Quebecois. “And now you want to tell me you’re sorry?”

I felt Ford’s tension when I laughed, but I couldn’t help it. “Dude, no. I’m not sorry. The fact that Hugo got the job over someone else sucks, but you can’t deny his plays worked. We won the game.”

“In spite of him,” Bodie spat.

“…was it though?” Ford asked.

Our neutral Switzerland was taking sides? Shit. Ford almost never spoke up during these little talks unless he really meant it. He always said he loved both of us too much.

Boden was dead silent for a long beat. “Is this how it is?”

“No,” I said. I stood up when he started to move toward the door. “Please don’t run. I’m blind as one of those blind mole thingies, and I can’t chase after you.”

“I’m not running anywhere,” Bodie snapped. “But I don’t have to sit here and take this bullshit from you two. You promised?—”

“We know,” Ford interrupted. He shifted next to me and nudged me with his elbow. “But…well. Maybe…” He trailed off. I knew he wasn’t going to say it himself, so I had to.

“We’re worried that something else is going on, and you’re taking it out on Hugo.”

Boden was silent for a long, long beat. “I need to leave.”

“Don’t.” I jumped up, wobbled, then righted myself before I walked toward him. He was a slightly clearer blob than before. “I love you.”

“Mm.”

I knew he loved me too, but Boden had always struggled to say those words aloud. I’d heard them a few times, years back, when he drank a lot more.

“We’re here for you, okay? But maybe we should hear Hugo out first. Don’t let your anger be a roadblock.” I pressed my hands over his, squeezing them over the curve of his crutch handles. “You have so much shit to accomplish, Bode. Don’t fuck it up because of some guy.”

“I’m not going to like him. You realize that, right?”

I snorted a laugh. “Uh, yeah. I do. But you can dislike him and not throw shit at him and get ejected from the game for going after your own coach.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I could sense he was scowling. “Promise me you’re not leaving.”

I froze. “What? Where the fuck would I go?”

“You’ll be coaching the Legends soon,” he said. “And you’re really into this new guy. Everything is changing, and now we have this able-bodied dickhead telling us what to do. I can keep my shit together, but only if you swear you’re not leaving.”

“Oh my God, don’t be a dipshit. I’m not going anywhere.” I wrapped my arms around him, and he buried his face in my neck. “This is my home.”

“So if your husband?—”

“He’s not my husband. Fuck’s sake, you two. It was a fake Vegas marriage officiated by Elvis, okay? Will it make you feel better if we had a bonfire and burned the marriage license?”

Boden stiffened and pulled back. “No. I don’t want you to set your love life on fire. I just don’t want this guy’s beer-flavored dick or whatever you fell for to convince you to move to the West Coast.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I told him. My West Coast dreams died the day of my accident. And I was happy here. I was more than happy here. And not that I was going to say it aloud, but I didn’t think Amedeo wanted me to come back with him.

Every time he started to talk about his life back where he’d come from, he got…weird. Too quiet, like just talking about it created open wounds in his chest.

“Would you two hate it, um, if he stayed though?”

Ford made a choking noise. “Does he want to stay?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get around to chatting while he was choking on my dick.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Boden said, shoving me back.

I toppled over, but Ford caught me before I hit the ground, shaking with giggles. “Fuck you both.”

I could hear Ford’s grin when he spoke as he lifted me to my feet. “Whatever happens happens. But we all need to get our heads out of our asses. I know this team isn’t the NHL or the AHL or the fucking PPHL. Only one of us in this room is an Olympic hopeful, and there’s a damn good chance one of the PPHL teams is going to recruit Boden before the end of next year.”

Boden was very, very quiet at that. I started to wonder if maybe he’d heard something, but I was too afraid to ask.

“But this is still us,” Ford went on. “It’s family, right?”

I squeezed Ford’s arm. “Yeah. It is.” My phone buzzed in my pocket—my alarm alerting me to my next student. “Listen, I have to jet. I don’t feel like getting bitched at by angry hockey moms today.”

“How about lunch?” Ford said. “I don’t have a shift until four.”

“Uh…yeah. So. I’m busy,” I said, walking back to the bench to feel around for my cane.

“Dinner,” Boden grunted. “I’ll cook. You can bring your cock sucker if you want.”

“Call him that again and see what fucking happens,” I growled.

Ford whistled. “Yeah. He’s lost. It’s just you and me, Bodie. Only we carry the bachelor flag now.”

I wanted to argue. I’d been proud of that my entire life. But it wasn’t a label I wanted anymore, and I was coming to accept that.

“It can be just us,” I said quietly.

Boden and Ford didn’t respond for a short while. Then Boden sighed. “If he’s with you, then he’s with us.”

My heart swelled. I loved them so fucking much. “I’ll catch you two later.”

Ford gave my arm a shake, and Boden caught me as I walked by, tugging me into another hug. “Don’t fucking disappear on me like that again.”

“I won’t.” I probably would, but I didn’t need to acknowledge that right now. He knew if good sex was involved, I’d break nearly every promise. And I had a feeling he’d appreciate my disappearing act once he realized how loud Amedeo could get. “Catch you dickheads later!”

The door shut behind me, and it was only when I was nearly back to the rink that I realized things were looking up.

Which was only slightly terrifying because that meant when I came crashing down, it was a longer way to fall.