Page 19

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

AMEDEO

The day passed slow and sluggish after dropping Tucker back off at the rink. He gave me a filthy kiss and a dick grab before getting out of the car, then said to be over at his place at seven. I felt directionless and a little unsure of myself, but I went back to the rental, finished changing all my passwords so Bryce had no way of getting my information.

When that was done, I sent a message to my sister, asking her to drive by the apartment and see if she could get a glimpse of where my shitty ex was.

While I didn’t think he’d show up in Turenne, I didn’t trust him not to, and that scared me more than anything. I trusted Tucker and his friends to stand up for me if I needed it—but I really didn’t want to need it. Not to mention, I had no idea what they’d think of me after that.

I was already the weirdo who drunk married their friend. I didn’t want to be the disaster who couldn’t clean up his mess after his ex. It was partly my fault anyway. Bryce had cheated—he’d been cheating—but I was no better when I stooped down to his level.

How did I live with that? I trusted myself to not make choices like that ever again, but did I have a right to ask Tucker for the chance to prove it? We were in some sort of honeymoon fog—which felt too literal, considering the circumstances—but when that wore off and he had time to think about the details, what would he say?

What would he think of me?

The thought made my stomach sour, and I was a bit of a mess when I got his text at six thirty, telling me I could come over. It felt like I was fist-fighting my brain to keep from canceling on him, and my need to see him won, but only just.

And it would be going over there, battered and bruised.

Tucker was waiting for me outside, sitting on the little ramp that led up through the front door. He had his legs off, his thighs stretched out in front of him, his head tilted against the doorframe. His eye locked on me as I approached, and he smiled.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah?”

He made grabby hands at me, so I dropped down beside him. The doorway was not big enough for two grown men—especially one with his meaty hockey ass, so he spread his thighs further and situated me between them.

It felt too good to lean my head back against his chest and have his thick arms wrap around me. I was safe in ways that I’d never felt before, and I wondered if I would ever have this again.

“Deo?”

“Mm?”

“We should burn our marriage license.”

I stiffened all over, hurt rushing through me. It was a mistake. Of course it was a mistake. But it wasn’t one I regretted. And I thought he’d felt the same way. “O-of course. Of course we c-can. I should have brought it. Um. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it b-before, and?—”

“Sweetheart. Hush up.”

My jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

He leaned over my shoulder, his lips brushing my ear. “Relax, okay?”

“I’m not upset. I’m just?—”

“You are, and that’s my fault. I didn’t mean it the way you took it,” he said. He ran the tips of his fingers up and down my arms. “If we ever get married for real, I want it to be better than that. I want it to be real. I want to remember making you my husband.”

He couldn’t have meant that. This was a fling. He must have just been talking a stream of consciousness. “You deserve to have something real.”

He tightened his grip and kissed my earlobe. “I mean, it’s not like either one of us will ever forget that story, right? Even if we burn the evidence?”

In spite of the ache in my chest, I laughed. “No. That one isn’t going away. That’ll be one of those stories that I will tell on my deathbed.”

He snorted and kissed me again. “I do have something to tell you though.”

I braced myself. Here it was. It had to be the moment he told me I was getting too attached. This was feeling too serious for him.

“Bodie’s kind of in a mood, so if he’s a dick to you, let me know. But…try not to snap at him? Ford and I realized he’s going through something, and we’re trying not to make it worse.”

Not what I was expecting him to say, and it took me a second to recover. “Oh. I would never. You know that, right? I would never make him feel bad if I could help it.”

He sighed and rubbed his nose along my jawline. “I do. I don’t know you well, but I know that. I just didn’t want you to take it personally. We sort of had it out after the meeting today, right before you picked me up. It was…rough.”

“Is that why you were down?”

He shrugged. “I guess. There’s been a lot of change happening in my life, and I’ve never adjusted well to that. This job thing is—well, it’s great. Being able to coach a legit professional team? I’ll get to travel and be part of something I thought I’d lost years ago.”

“From the accident?”

He bowed his head and groaned. “Uh, well. No. That’s something else you should know about me. I haven’t always made the best decisions, and, well…one year, I made some really bad ones. Dragged Bodie down with me. Got us thrown out of the Paralympics.”

“Oh.”

He sat up a little straighter. “Oh? You know that’s kind of a big deal, right? You have to really fuck up to do that.”

I twisted my head to the side to look at him, and he brushed a few shaggy locks off my forehead. “I knew that already. I spoke with a lawyer before I came here, and he did some research on you.”

Tucker’s eyes widened. “Is that so?”

“It’s…standard?” I offered.

His lips twitched. “I see. Do I get to run a background check too?”

“There’s not much to find. I’m kind of a low-key loser, but have at it.”

His face went irritated again, and I knew it was because he hated when I called myself that. He didn’t correct me this time, just snagged my chin in a pinched hold and kissed me. “You’re great.”

“Thank you.” I was okay. I wasn’t great. But I’d take it. I wasn’t about to tell him how to feel. “And yeah, I read about what happened.”

It had started with pranks and escalated when Boden and Tucker had picked a fight with security at the Olympic Village, and a woman who was a member of the skiing committee ended up taking an elbow to the face. It was just hours before their first game, and they were sent home and banned.

“Bodie was in a bad place back then,” Tucker said softly, almost at a whisper. “You know about his granddad, right? And his dad?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know any real details about any of them. Except for Tucker, of course, and the fact that Ford worked at a supermarket.

“He comes from a family of hockey legends. Or, well, two of them. And legend is kind of a stretch, but his granddad and dad both have a couple of Stanley Cup rings. They had this idea that they were going to have this grand hockey legacy passed down from father to son. Then Boden was born early with the cord around his neck, and that ended up being that.”

“Cerebral…palsy,” I said, trying to remember.

Tucker kissed me for the right answer. “His dad blamed his mom, and they got divorced. She went back to the States and took Boden with her, assuming that his dad wouldn’t want him back since he couldn’t be the hockey god they’d planned to raise him as. His dad is…an interesting guy,” Tucker added, wrinkling his nose.

I could only begin to imagine.

“He retired young after a skate shattered his ankle. He didn’t win any solo awards, but he won the cup twice.”

I didn’t understand most of what he was saying, but it was easy to nod along.

“I think in spite of knowing that Bodie would never actually play NHL hockey, his dad still obsessed over it. His granddad didn’t help. They still talk about what would have been and could have been, and it gets in his head sometimes. Badly.”

My heart hurt for him.

“He has this legacy he physically cannot live up to, and his dad will tell him it doesn’t matter, then he’ll get shitfaced and call him and talk about what their lives might have been like if he’d been born normal.”

“Oh, what the fuck.”

Tucker squeezed me again. “I know. That’s what happened the night we got kicked out in Beijing. His dad called. I didn’t hear what he said but it fucked him up. He was angry, we got drunk, shit spiraled. He never blamed me, but he probably should have. I could have talked him down. Instead, I was looking for a way to sabotage my chances at winning a medal because I was still angry it wasn’t the standard Olympics. If I could go back, I would have understood what I was doing was just as good—just as important. But there are parts of me that are still a little screwed up.”

Twisting in his arms, I took his face between my palms, the way he was always holding me. “I like you this way.”

He huffed, then leaned in and tried to kiss me, but I held him back, and he pouted.

“I mean it. Please understand that I mean it.”

After a long beat, his eyelids lowered, and he nodded. “I do.”

I let him have his kiss after that.

* * *

“Thank you for this,” I said quietly in the tense silence over the dinner table.

Boden was on one side, staring down Ford, who was at the head of the table. Tucker was beside me, his face pointed toward his plate, probably so he could deny knowing that Boden was trying to set them all on fire with his eyes.

We were having roast chicken with vegetables. It was simple and a little underseasoned, but it was still a home-cooked meal, which I’d been sorely lacking for a long, long time. Just like the night with poutine, I felt satisfied and full.

Boden sniffed, then looked at me, and his face softened. “Thank you. I appreciate someone at this table has manners.”

“Eat my dick,” Tucker said primly. “It probably has more salt.”

“In front of him?” Boden asked, pointing his fork at me. “He doesn’t seem like he’s the type who wants to watch that.”

My chest burned. I wasn’t. At all. But I knew Boden was just trying to antagonize Tucker. His hand found mine under the table, and I squeezed his fingers as he took a deep breath.

“The dinner did need more salt.” Tucker finally raised his head and shot Boden a shit-eating grin. “Even you can’t deny that, Bode.”

“Excuse me, I—” Boden started.

“Nope,” Ford said, clapping his hands once like a kindergarten teacher. “We’re not going to do this tonight. We have a guest.”

Boden’s mouth opened, then snapped shut, and he sat back, folding his arms over his chest. Ford winked at me, then shot Tucker a raised brow, and Tucker bowed his head again.

“The chicken was moist but underseasoned. And it’s better than anything Tucker could make,” Ford said. It was obvious he was the diplomat. “I don’t think Amedeo will care particularly either way if we start arguing in front of him, but it’s not a nice thing to do. So we won’t.”

Boden sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, then looked at me. “I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult day, made harder by the lack of support from my friends ?—”

“Dude. Fuck you,” Tucker said, smacking his hand on the table. “It’s our job to tell you when you’re being a goddamn dipshit.”

Boden’s jaw tensed, and his face went red. “So it’s your job to tell me that now, but not when my ass was on the line at the fucking Olympics?”

Tucker said nothing.

Ford waited a beat, then said, “He’s apologized for that, Bode. A lot. You don’t get to throw that in his face now. We understand why you’re angry about Hugo, but he obviously knows more about our game than you led us to believe. And that wasn’t fair.”

Boden swallowed heavily, then stood up from the table, leaning heavily on it with one hand as he reached to the side for his crutches. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

No one stopped him as he left, but I felt terrible. He looked shattered, and I knew too well what it was like.

“Can I help with dishes?” I asked after a long moment of silence.

Tucker looked up and scoffed. “You may not. You can go put your feet up in the living room, or you can go get naked in my bed.”

I nearly choked on my tongue.

“Stop making him blush,” Ford ordered.

Tucker reached over and coasted a touch over my warm cheek. “He looks pretty this way.”

“I’m…going to go to the other room now,” I said, standing up. I was seconds away from popping a boner, and that was the last reason I wanted to be the center of attention here in a house full of irreverent hockey bros who had no problem calling them out when they saw them.

Luckily, no one stopped me. I wandered into the living room and paused when I saw a figure just outside the front window. It was obviously Boden. Instinct told me to stay where I was, but experience said that sometimes my instinct was total shit, and I wanted to do something for the person who had made me feel welcome, all while being entirely pissed off with his friend that I was sleeping with.

I opened the door a crack and saw him sitting on a swing bench perched on the lawn. “Can I join you?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tucker right now?” Boden asked tightly.

“He’s doing dishes. But I can go.”

I started to turn, but Boden cleared his throat. “You can sit. I’m not normally such a gigantic asshole, and this isn’t how I wanted someone Tucker likes to be introduced to our home.”

I turned and walked slowly, easing down beside him. We were several inches apart, and I didn’t know if that was too close or too far. I hadn’t let myself look at Boden for too long since I’d met him. It seemed rude. But in that moment, I took him in.

I thought about what Tucker said—how he looked young because he was so small and constantly got shit for it. I knew what that was like, but I had a feeling it was different for Boden. He seemed so…angry all the time. I had no doubt the world was constantly refusing to believe in him.

“I’m sorry you got thrown out of the game.” I eventually said.

He laughed, rolling his eyes up toward the sky. “Don’t be. I was trying to get thrown out. I wanted to make him look like an incompetent coach—which would have worked if the guys had been on my side. But instead, I looked like an asshole having a tantrum.”

“Ah.” I didn’t want to say it, but luckily, he did.

“Which I guess is exactly what I was.”

I tried to hide my smile. “Mm. I wouldn’t have known. That was my first hockey game.”

“Ever?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sports was never my thing.”

“I haven’t met a virgin in a long, long time.”

My eyes widened. “I’m n-not a…I’m…well…”

“Sports virgin,” he clarified, putting me out of my misery. “I grew up surrounded by hockey. Even when I was with my mom, it was still there. People recognized her from time to time, and some of my dad’s old rivals dated her for a while.”

I grimaced. “That sounds like a lot.”

“It was.” He smiled, and it was far less of a grimace this time. Then silence fell for a bit.

“Why do you hate your coach?”

Boden bit his lip, glancing behind him through the window. There was no sign of Tucker or Ford. “Will you keep a secret from Tucker for a while?”

I didn’t want to, but I could sense Boden needed it. It was obvious he didn’t have a lot of people in his life who weren’t his circle of hockey friends. “I can do that.”

He didn’t look like he believed me entirely, which was fair. “Hugo was hired on a recommendation from my dad. And I fucking hate it. I hate that he’s still meddling in my life. I hate that he thinks he needs to help me when I didn’t ask for it.”

I had no idea what that was like. My parents were hands-off, even when I needed them desperately. I wasn’t sure how I would have survived without my sister, and I was pretty sure we were as put together as we were by sheer luck.

“Does anyone know?” I asked.

“Hugo,” Boden said with a scoff. “Jacob. He’s the owner,” he clarified when I frowned. “Hugo has connections with the PPHL committee. My dad thinks he can convince Hugo to throw his weight around and get me drafted to a professional team. Or, if that fails, at least get me back in the Paralympics.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Boden thumped himself on the chest. “On my merits. Not his. It’s bad enough I was born a disappointment to him. I had to go and fuck up my chance to be great. And then Hugo had to be there at the fucking bar when—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t need to dump this on you.”

I waved him off. “I asked.”

His face shifted, sobering, and he gave me a long, considering look before changing the subject. “Are you really going to leave soon?”

I felt a little off-kilter at the abrupt question, but I found myself shrugging. “That was the plan.”

“Was?”

He caught that, did he? I glanced behind me and still didn’t see Tucker anywhere. “Can you keep a secret?”

Boden nodded.

“If he asked me to stay, I probably would. I don’t have anything left back there for me except my job, and even that’s kind of shit. I could do IT here. I could find a job anywhere I want to live. I just…I guess I want to be somewhere I’m wanted. But please don’t tell him that. He’ll ask me even if he doesn’t want it.”

Boden bit the insides of his cheeks, making them hollow, then let go. “I get it. But maybe drop a hint or two. Tucker isn’t used to people who like him as much as you do. He’s not always very kind to himself. A little push won’t hurt. If you really think this could be something,” he added.

I hoped it could. I was desperate for it, in fact. But I was also afraid to get my hopes up only to have them crushed.

“He’s coming,” I said when I heard Tucker’s footsteps. “I can hear him.”

The front door opened a second later, and Tucker appeared, looking a little frantic. He cast an accusing stare at Boden, then walked over, gripped me by the chin, and kissed me. I saw stars, my ears buzzed, and my heart began to thunder in my ears from the force of it.

When he pulled back, Boden was already walking up the ramp and through the front door.

“Trying to sneak out on me, sweetheart?”

I rolled my eyes as I shifted over and made room for him. He nestled beside me, folding his metal ankles together as he rocked us gently back and forth. “I wanted to help. He looked sad. Really sad.”

“ I’m sad,” Tucker said, pouting his lower lip.

I laughed and leaned in, giving it a small peck. “Yes, and I like you best. But I also know what it’s like to be completely alone. I was trying to be nice.”

Tucker stared at me, eyes wide, expression unsure. He let out a breath, then said, “Stay.”

My heart sped up. Was he asking? Was he really wanting me to?—

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.”

Ah. For the night. My heart crashed down, but the sting only lasted a second, and I smiled, nodding. “I’m here for as long as you want me.”

He licked his lips, then picked up my hand and kissed the center of my palm. “Come on. I have a promise to fulfill. Your ass, my dick. Lots of lube and a box of condoms.”

My body heated like I was about to spontaneously combust, and it was with shaking legs and a weak grip that I stood up, let him take my arm, and tug me back into the house.