Neutral Zone Trap: The Dartmouth Cobras ~ An Off Ice Novel

by Bianca Sommerland

  “I hear you!” White grinned, facing forward again and slowing his pace to an easy jog. “Barely a week home and we’re off on another road trip, but I love that shit. Except for the flying.”

  “Yeah, sucks that you hate it so much. I love the view, looking down and seeing a new city, knowing I get to experience things I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to if I hadn’t made it this far.” Braxton smiled at the thought. As confusing as his personal life was, he’d always have hockey. He was good at hockey. Maybe not the best, but he could work on that.

  And to be real, he didn’t need any distractions. Not before the playoffs.

  White slowed even more, reaching out to rub the back of Braxton’s neck. “You’re just getting started kid. And don’t worry about me. Pisch gets me through the flights.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What do you mean, ‘uh huh’?” White frowned and let his hand fall to his side as he stopped. “He tries. I know I still look all fucked up, but it would be worse if he wasn’t there.”

  “I know, man. It’s just…” Braxton decided to drop it. ‘It’ being what he saw going on between White and Shawn Pischlar. For all he knew about relationships, he could be way off. And White didn’t get subtleties, so teasing him was cruel. “It’s nothing. I’m glad he can help you a bit at least.”

  Expression warming, as though talking about Pischlar made him happy, White nodded. “He really does. And I’m lucky he’s so patient. I’m a mess.”

  “You are not. Come on, not being good on planes isn’t—”

  “I mean this.” White gestured to the ankle monitor he had to wear for ‘aggravated assault’ after defending Pischlar from a bunch of homophobic assholes at a local gym. “Do you know how much paperwork the team had to do so I could travel with the team?” He hesitated. “Speaking of all that shit, I have to check in with the cop who’s monitoring me to tell her where I’m gonna be on the road trip. Wanna come with?”

  “Sure. I…I had a bike stolen and wanted to see if there was any news anyway.”

  Shit. What am I doing?

  Showing up at the police station, he might see Ryan. And Ryan had made it clear they were done.

  But…

  Would he still think that if they were face to face? Last time Braxton had seen him, Ryan had relaxed after a bit. Still seemed interested. Maybe Braxton was wrong, but would it hurt to try, one last time? Wasn’t like he was going out of his way. He was going with White.

  If the man looked him in the eye and said what he did on the phone, Braxton would move on. He had to.

  But he couldn’t until he found some closure. Which might be ridiculous, he’d known the man for one night.

  Still…that night meant something,

  I can’t let it go.

  Not yet.

  “Cool. Let’s head back to my place and we’ll drive over.” White seemed so happy that he’d be coming that Braxton couldn’t second guess himself.

  They jogged back to White’s place. He climbed in White’s car.

  And then considered staying in it when they pulled up in front of the police station.

  Ryan was there. Right there with Chicklet. When White got out, Braxton did too. He sensed Ryan’s eyes on him and his throat locked.

  This is a huge mistake.

  “I gotta see my house arrest lady to tell her where I’ll be at during the road trip. She said she’d meet me here.” White gestured to Braxton without looking over. “Kid wanted to come for the ride. He said he got his bike stolen last week and he reported it?”

  “Not my department.” Ryan’s gaze was cutting as he frowned at Braxton. “I’m sure they told you they’d call?”

  “But they didn’t.” Braxton ducked his head and scuffed his sneakers on the pavement. He prayed for the earth to swallow him whole. “Figured I’d hear something the next day.”

  “Well, you didn’t.” Ryan’s tone went cold. “That should tell you something.”

  Avoiding Ryan’s glare, Braxton stepped up to White’s side. Spoke softly. “I’m gonna wait for you here. It’s just a bike. I shouldn’t be bugging them about it.”

  White’s brow furrowed, but he nodded before heading inside.

  Braxton slipped back into the passenger seat of the car and kept his head down. If things hadn’t been clear before, they were now. Ryan wanted nothing to do with him. A night that had meant so much to Braxton was probably no different than any other for the man.

  Completely humiliated, stomach turning, all Braxton could do was think about the game.

  Think about the one place he mattered.

  Because right now, with Ryan so close, with the sight of him reminding him of everything they’d done together…

  He might as well be invisible.

  And he didn’t know how to pretend that was okay.

  Chapter 7

  Ryan’s life had become one disaster after another. His sister was on administrative leave after shooting a drug dealer who’d attacked her with a knife. The leave was a good thing, she needed a break, but the way the internal investigator, Detective West, was treating her seemed personal.

  Against Ryan.

  He’d never thought his sister would get a hard time because he’d been a hotheaded rookie. Or because as a moody teen the last year of high school when their family had moved here, he’d fought West’s younger brother a few times. Maybe even because he’d gotten up the ranks fast once he’d pulled his life together and the man fucking hated treating him as an equal.

  Whatever the case, Laura didn’t deserve to be targeted. And maybe the actual leave was all by the books, but what West had said while Laura had been finishing up the paperwork and turning in her badge and gun?

  “She should be out soon, Hamilton. I must say I’m a little disappointed, though. I was hoping, since she’s not a blood relative, that she didn’t share your disregard for the rules.” West pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one out, then brought it to his lips and lit the tip. “Apparently it runs in the family.”

  “You know damn well it was a clean kill, West.” Ryan shoved away from the car, his jaw ticking as he considered how much damage the fucker could do to Laura’s career. “You got a problem with me, don’t take it out on her.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I handled her no differently than I would any other officer. And she gets no special treatment for being your foster sister.” West let out a puff of smoke with a laugh. “Please inform her a note from your mommy won't suffice for the psych eval.”

  He’d almost nailed the other man with a swift punch, but Chicklet had grabbed him and used her sharp wit as a weapon instead. The Domme had made West seem absolutely pathetic and Ryan realized getting himself suspended for hitting a fellow detective, no matter how satisfying, wouldn’t do Laura any good. She needed him to be her strong, stable big brother, not the reckless boy he’d left behind.

  His emotions were still raw though. And seeing Braxton hadn’t helped. He’d thought he’d closed that particular door, but while he’d been waiting for Laura, suddenly Braxton was there.

  A complication he couldn’t handle.

  Fucking handsome, looking so vulnerable part of Ryan told his sensible side to fuck off and cross the short distance and hold him. Take the pain out of his eyes. Explain why he couldn’t be the person Braxton so clearly wanted him to be.

  But there was still some hope in Braxton’s eyes, hidden among the confusion. Hope that didn’t belong there, not after the small bit of time they’d been together. Braxton was young, so maybe Ryan had been wrong about what he actually needed. Maybe he was ready for a relationship. Maybe he needed a connection with whoever he had sex with. Maybe being his first lover—the first he didn’t have to pretend with—had him feeling there was a connection between them.

  Ryan wouldn’t lie to himself and say he was completely immune to Braxton. He could easily get wrapped up in the man. Forget the age difference, or how little time he had to devote to a relationship. Or
how little desire…

  No, desire definitely wasn’t a problem. He’d take Braxton back into his bed in a second. See if he looked as hot on his knees wearing a collar as Ryan imagined.

  None of that mattered. Braxton was already in too deep, much too fast. Ryan would hurt him, either now or later.

  Better it be now.

  The young man would recover.

  First, he had to understand there was nothing here for him. Even if Ryan had to make Braxton hate him to do it. Which shouldn’t be hard. All Ryan had to do was let out all his anger and frustrations over the past few days. Be as cold and cutting as possible, without revealing too much to Chicklet who’d been waiting with him for Laura, or White who was actually there for a reason.

  He made it about the bike. Braxton would know exactly what he really meant. White would be fooled. Chicklet…unlikely, but she’d respect his privacy.

  A good plan, but Braxton’s crushed expression was like a kick in the guts. Looking away from him took every bit of strength Ryan had, but he did it. All that mattered was giving Braxton back the power he’d so innocently handed over. Forcing him to harden his heart a little.

  He’d need it as he tried to find a balance in his life between being who he really was, and who he had to pretend to be in front of the cameras.

  Once Braxton and White were gone, Chicklet gave Ryan a level look that spoke volumes.

  He shook his head. “None of your business.”

  “Got it.”

  Maybe she did, but that didn’t change what she hadn’t said.

  He heard it loud and clear.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  His jaw clenched as he did his best to push Braxton out of his mind so he could focus on Laura. Who needed him more.

  Not that it changed anything.

  Chicklet was right.

  Chapter 8

  Another road trip and the timing was perfect. Braxton couldn’t keep avoiding everyone and everything because his emotions were a wreck and the game gave him something good to focus on.

  Kinda…

  The tension in the locker room had diminished now that the ‘Trouble Triplets’ were back and the asshole rookies were gone, but there was still this uncomfortable undertone that seemed to hover around the inner circle of the team. He hadn’t noticed it as much just seeing the guys at games and practice, but on the road it was hard to ignore.

  Scott Demyan and his partner, Zachory Pearce, were being weird with one another and he couldn’t stand it. Zach was the first openly gay player on the team, out to the media and everything, and seeing things go well for him had given Braxton hope. Now?

  All he could see was how messy things could get.

  Things weren’t all bad though. Over the past few days, White had been spending more time with Braxton, which was freakin’ awesome. The man was tough and ruggedly handsome and fun to be around. As far as Braxton knew, White was straight, but the looks he gave his best friend, Shawn Pischlar, made him wonder sometimes.

  White hadn’t been with Pisch much lately, instead giving Braxton pointers on the ice and even teaching him how to fight. Which was a good distraction from how weird Hunt was acting.

  Braxton’s roommate had met a chick and moved out, so he figured he’d offer Hunt the spare room. The guy was staying in a cheap apartment, pretty isolated aside from regular calls and visits from his overbearing father. Even though they’d grown a bit distant, Braxton figured they were still friends and the company would be nice.

  Only, Hunt wasn’t…great company. He had a schedule his dad made for him that he followed, a diet he pushed on Braxton, and they hardly spoke at all anymore. Braxton got dedication to the game, but every single minute of every day? Hell, he felt guilty sitting down to watch TV with Hunt on the treadmill in the spare room he’d set up as a home gym. He let Hunt take over the groceries and couldn’t stand half the food in his fridge.

  Being on the road meant a change of pace and hopefully some normal food. White had been asking him how he’d been eating, so it must be obvious Braxton had lost weight over the past two weeks. Not enough for the trainers to get on his case yet, but that would come next.

  Between flavorless food he couldn’t stomach, the awkwardness he’d invited into his home, and just feeling really low lately, Braxton had dropped almost ten pounds. And he wasn’t huge to begin with. He pushed himself hard to make sure his performance didn’t suffer, but he was starting to get tired whenever he wasn’t on the ice. The rush of adrenalin wasn’t there to keep him going. He was just sorta…going through the motions of every day.

  He refused to believe Ryan giving him the cold shoulder had anything to do with him being so damn miserable. Who cared if he couldn’t stop thinking about the man? What did it matter that their bit of time together played over and over in his head? That he’d gone from feeling good about a hidden side of himself to…simply hiding again?

  Damn it, he couldn’t fool himself completely though. He pictured Ryan’s smile. His voice, rough with pleasure, or firm with disapproval and wished he could go back to before he’d fucked everything up. Maybe if he’d slowed down he could’ve proved to Ryan he wasn’t a complete disaster. They could’ve had that chat.

  Back at the hotel, carrying his overnight bag, Braxton let out a heavy sigh. The heavy weight of White’s arm around his neck almost knocked him over.

  “Things are better, kid. We’ve had a few losses, but that team-building exercise was cool, right?”

  “It was. And hell, we won against Philly. So…yay?” Braxton shrugged. “Sorry, I’m just…worn out I guess.”

  “You want me to head back to my room then? I enjoy hanging out, but not if it’s messing with your sleep.”

  Braxton frowned and shook his head. He didn’t want to be alone. The vet he’d originally been roomed with, one of their defensemen, Mirek Brends, was the ideal player and he made Braxton feel like a loser for not wanting to hit the sack at precisely 11:30PM every night. Not because anything he said or did, really, but he reminded Braxton a bit of Ryan. What Ryan would probably expect from him. That orderly, responsible life where Braxton didn’t fit. This time, he’d gotten his own room and it was a relief. He was tired enough to want to go right there, but he wasn’t ready to crash yet.

  Hanging out with White and having a few beers was the break in the routine he needed. He couldn’t let go of the one thing he had besides the game. The one person who actually seemed to like being around him.

  He shot White an amused smile as he turned around, walking backwards to the elevator. “Your turn to pay for beer. You punking out on me?”

  White snorted. “Not a chance. But you’ve got to promise to eat too, all right? Gotta gain back some of that weight you lost because of our crazy rookie goalie.”

  As they stepped onto the elevator, Braxton shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s not…crazy. I don’t know, he’s dedicated and all, but it’s too much sometimes. I care about him, but I’m not sure I’m a good friend.”

  White frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall as the elevator started up. “You let him pick every meal, and you’re all patient when he goes from being protective to shutting you out. How is that not being a good friend?”

  Braxton shrugged, not sure what to say. He almost wished he could go back to admiring Hunt and being close without things being weird. But Hunt acted like a pat on the shoulder was pushing his new limits. Like he didn’t even know how to talk to Braxton anymore.

  Losing both Ryan and Hunt? Braxton was just…done. He preferred White’s straightforward way of dealing with the world. He seemed happy, even if things were weird between him and Pisch. Maybe he could give Braxton some tips on how to shut the complicated shit out.

  “Hey, I was thinking…” White rubbed his jaw as they got off the elevator. “There were a few chicks down there in the hotel restaurant that seemed interested. One gave me her number. She works here and was on break. If you want maybe
we could invite her and her friends to my room.”

  Throat locking, Braxton did his best to keep his expression neutral. He hadn’t wanted this with White. He’d had enough of trying to be good with girls for Hunt. He always felt like shit when he couldn’t get hard and a woman wondered if she’d done something wrong. With Hunt he’d been able to focus on how attracted he was to the man and forget how wrong every touch was. How much he wished they were alone.

  “Drinks first.” He followed White into the room and collapsed on his bed, one arm over his eyes. “Then…whatever.”

  “Dude, what’s going on with you?” White dropped onto the bed beside him, reaching for the phone. He ordered some burgers, a case of beer and a bottle of whiskey without waiting for Braxton’s answer. After he hung up he turned on his side, frowning. “Hey…that whole thing with the bike? Did you ever get that worked out?”

  Braxton let out a strained laugh. He almost wished White knew the bike thing was a cover, but he wasn’t sure the man would get why things with Ryan were still eating at him.

  “No, the bike thing is…over I guess. I’ll probably never see it again.”

  “That really sucks.”

  “Yeah.” There really wasn’t much else to say. Braxton was relieved when the food and drinks got there. He laughed at the look White gave him when he opened his burger and took the pickles out. He couldn’t stand the things, but he had a feeling White wanted to make sure he ate.

  He did. Both of his hamburgers and some fries before he started drinking.

  The TV and whatever was music playing became background noise. He clinked his shot glass with White’s, then downed his third shot. Nodded when White said they should slow down and have some beer. His head was nice and numb, and they didn’t have another game for two days, but he didn’t want to get sick.

  Sitting at the round table near the window, Braxton snacked on his cooling fries, then took a sip of his second beer. He watched White pace the room, arching a brow when White poured them each another shot.