“Getting sick of hockey wasn’t an option either.”
The bitterness in that statement wasn’t lost on Wade. “What would have happened if you’d tried to quit?”
“Brock did once. It didn’t end to well for him.”
Even though Wade already had a heart-sinking suspicion what’d gone down, he still asked, “What happened?”
“Dad made him see the error of his ways.” For a second that seemed to be all Trey was going to say, but he let out a breath and continued, “You see, there are some things you need to know about my dad before you judge him. There was a time where he was going to make the pros himself before that fell through. He never really got over it either. Once he started having sons, he decided that if he couldn’t go pro, then his boys would.”
In other words, like so many other selfish parents, the bastard had decided to live through his children. “So, he pushed you all harder than he should have.”
“Some thought so. But you’d be amazed how many other parents looked the other way. My dad owned the rink we skated out of and they didn’t dare speak against him for fear their own kids would be blackballed from a travel team or something.”
“Whatever happened to Brock?”
Something that may have been fear passed over Trey’s face before he ducked his head down. “I’m sure you read about him along with all the other gritty details of our lives in the papers. The press loves to rip us apart.”
“All I’ve read is that he turned to drugs. They never said why,” Wade pointed out. He hoped he wasn’t pressing for too much, but strangely enough, all the talking seemed to be loosening some of the tension in Trey—almost as if he took some comfort in knowing that Wade didn’t judge him for his past.
“When Brock was eighteen, all of Dad’s hard work finally paid off. Brock hadn’t even graduated from high school, yet he’d already been drafted for an NHL team. Not just for the reserves either, like most other young players. There was already talk about him being one of the most promising rookies in years. Then during his last game for the Junior team he was playing for, Brock took a bad check and blew out his knee. Just like that, everything was gone.”
Even though he’d never met the guy, Wade felt his stomach clench in sympathy for Brock. “How did you father take that?”
“As soon as Brock could walk again, Dad kicked him out the house,” Trey replied, his voice trembling a bit.
“What?” Wade shook his head in stunned disbelief.
“He said he didn’t want an extra mouth hanging around when he needed to focus on his three future prospects.”
Damn, no wonder Brock turned out the way he had. He must have felt like a lame prize horse sent to a glue factory.
As if he could tell what Wade thought, Trey said, “Brock isn’t as bad as they make him out to be. I mean, sure he’s an addict and stuff, but that’s his way of coping with everything. Devon, Chad and I do it by going on the ice and getting into fights. So if you think about it, we’re not any better than he is.”
Wade wanted to point out that hockey fights weren’t a felony, unlike drug possession. He held his tongue though, since he had a suspicion that Trey had a bit of a blind spot as far as Brock was concerned. Besides, they’d reached their destination.
“What is this?” Trey demanded, his eyes growing wide as he took in the large amount of people milling about, the numerous booths and tents set up in the center of a blocked of street.
“It’s the annual winter festival. They have food, ice sculptures and live entertainment,” Wade said, realizing he probably sounded like a travel brochure.
“Cool!” Trey exclaimed, the shadow of sadness fleeing his face.
They found a place to park and got out, walking close enough to occasionally bump shoulders, but never going so far as to actually hold hands. Trey seemed to want to see everything at once, his excitement proving to be infectious. He even insisted on stopping to get hot chocolate that they sipped as they watched one of the artists working on a large chunk of ice that was just one of numerous sculptures surrounding them.
Each one was beautiful in its own way. There was the obligatory swan, a cherub, a trout in mid-jump and even a fairy, her icy arms stretched up to the now dark sky. There were several white lights strung on the tent awnings, the illumination reflecting perfectly off the iced art.
“I can’t believe they actually use chain saws on these,” Trey spoke loudly because of the growling from the machine the female artist used to whittle down the nearly five-five block of ice.
They continued to watch, even after the artist put down the saw and started to use finer tools for the more intricate carving. A comfortable silence settled over them as Trey reached out and threaded their fingers together.
Wade held his breath, afraid that if he moved, the spell would be broken. After the panic attack that morning, he never dreamed Trey would be showing an open display of affection so readily.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Trey said, never taking his gaze off the sculpture.
“Thanks for coming, I kept expecting you to phone today and call off the date,” Wade admitted as he gave Trey’s hand a squeeze.
“I was going to, but I didn’t have your number,” Trey admitted, finally tearing his gaze away from the ice to stare up at Wade.
“I’m glad I forgot to give it to you then.”
Trey nervously licked his lips before swallowing hard a few times. “I’m glad you forgot to do that, too.”
Wade slowly lowered his head. When Trey didn’t pull back and just continued to stare back, a soft, almost sensual expression passing over his face, Wade closed the last bit of distance and pressed their lips together.
With a sigh, Trey parted his mouth, allowing Wade to slip his tongue inside. Trey tasted of chocolate, spice and a bit of flavor that was unique just to him. In other words—perfection. So much so that Wade couldn’t resist going in for a second and then a third sampling.
When they finally pulled away, Trey swayed a bit. He reached out with one hand and held onto Wade’s shoulder for support. Wade allowed himself to feel a bit smug about the mixture of surprise and arousal playing in Trey’s eyes.
“Are you hungry?” Wade asked.
Trey blinked a few times, as if confused by the change of subject, before he gave nodded absently. “Yeah, I haven’t had anything to eat besides a quick lunch at the rink.”
“Next time you wake up in my bed, maybe you’ll stay around long enough for breakfast. I make a mean omelet,” Wade teased.
“That’s good because I’m so bad in the kitchen, I could probably manage to burn a bowl of cold cereal.” Trey grinned, showing off his dimples.
Wade’s chest constricted painfully as he realized that in the span of just over twenty-four hours, Trey had already managed to get under his skin—to the extent that Wade could see himself losing his mind and heart to the younger man.
A younger man who still insisted on holding back. Wade felt for certain there were at least two things Trey wasn’t telling him. One, the true reason as to why the bottom fell out from Trey’s career and life. The other was more infuriating because it had a dash of jealously with it.
Wade knew without a shadow of doubt that when he’d gone to pick up Trey, the man had been hiding something else. And that something was the fact that there’d been someone else in the apartment.
Even though he knew he should feel guilty for breaking his promise to Wade, Trey couldn’t help but enjoy himself. Just having the freedom to walk around with another man and not care who was watching felt so cleansing that Trey couldn’t get the smile off his face. Add in the fact that Wade was sexy, charming and considerate and that made things so much better.
They grabbed some hotdogs from a booth and sat under a large tent that was serving as an eating area. Several, large heaters had been set up so they managed to stay warm as they enjoyed their food.
“These are so good,” Trey moaned as he started on his second helping.
Wade cocked a brow in that indulgent way of his. “They’re just hot dogs.”
“I know, but they have to be the best thing I’ve eaten all week.”
“Then I really need to take you out more often. You must not have been kidding when you said you couldn’t cook.”
“Since I live alone, I usually just slap together a sandwich or something.”
“So how do you like playing for the Hawks?” Wade asked.
Trey shrugged as he licked a dollop of ketchup of his index finger. “Now that the team is actually winning some games, it’s kind of nice.”
“As one of your numerous fans, I can tell you we’re excited that you guys were traded to our home team.”
“Oh, no. You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Trey paused, suspicion slicing through him.
“One of them?” Wade echoed.
“A diehard fan. I’ll bet you’re just like Amy and have had season tickets for years.”
Wade laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Guilty. I even own a couple of Hawks jerseys and sweatshirts.”
“So you still supported them even though until a couple of months ago they went a decade without a single win.” Trey made a big show of sadly shaking his head. “Do you realize how pathetic that is?” He made sure to smile, so Wade would realize he was just teasing.
“Yeah, but all that changed when they got you on the roster.”
“You mean Chad and Devon. They’re the ones who’ve been scoring all the goals. Well, them and Kip,” Trey mollified.
“I seem to recall somebody having a four game shut-out streak.” Wade leaned over and playfully tapped Trey on the nose.
“Ah, that was just because my defense kept them off my back. It was no big deal.” Trey blushed. Since compliments had been so few while growing up, he still had trouble taking them when they were tossed his way.
“Don’t undersell yourself. When you play in net, the way you move is so beautiful it’s almost artistic,” Wade said with complete seriousness.
Trey still chuckled. “You keep talking that way and they’ll peg you to do the sappy athlete bios for the next Olympics.”
As soon as Trey said those words, he wanted them back. Here Wade said something really sweet about him and Trey to make a joke about it. He sucked in a breath, worried that he’d blown his first actual date. When the sounds of Wade’s chuckles reached his ears, Trey jerked his head up in shock.
“I guess you do have a point there,” Wade conceded. “But I can’t help it. I’ve been watching hockey for as long as I can remember and I’ve never seen someone move on the ice the way you do.”
“Funny, most people say goalies waddle,” Trey scoffed softly, although Wade’s kind words were beginning to chink away at the wall around his heart.
“I mean it. It’s as if you feel totally free when you’re out there. Almost like the way you were dancing last night.”
“I was a little tipsy and made a fool out of myself,” Trey felt a flush come to his cheeks once again as he recalled his behavior the previous evening.
“You were a fucking wet dream come true. I still get hard when I think of the way you just threw yourself into the music and let it take over.”
“If you’re just saying that to get into my pants again, you can save it. In case you didn’t get the memo, I’m a pretty sure thing,” Trey returned, his own cock beginning to harden at the raspy, aroused edge Wade’s voice had taken.
“I’m telling you all this because it’s true. Besides, I’ve already decided that we’re not sleeping together tonight.”
Trey’s heart dropped as profound disappointment collided into him. “Why not?”
Shit! He’d blown it. Somehow during the past couple hours, he must have said or done something to turn Wade off. While Trey realized he should be relieved because he had no business dating a cop that still didn’t stop the hurt from clawing at his insides.
“When we sleep together again, I want you to know I’m doing it because I want to be with just Trey. Not Trey, the hockey player or Trey, the cute, tipsy flirt. Until you realize that I can actually like you because of simply who you are and not what you think the world wants you to be we’re going to take things slow.”
Trey tensed as he waited for the feeling of rejection to hit him. Then he gazed into Wade’s eyes and saw the deep caring and longing there and a warm feeling spread through Trey’s gut.
Fuck Devon and his advice because there is no way I can give this guy up.
“I think I would really like that.”
Trey reached across the table and grabbed Wade’s hand. Yeah, there was no doubt about it. Trey could actually grow to care for this man. He couldn’t help but wonder if Wade would still be interested if he knew everything about Trey’s past.
True to his word, Wade drove Trey home and only went so far as walking him to the door. After a passionate, yet brief kiss, they said goodnight. This time Trey made sure he had the other man’s number before they separated—not so he could call up with the intention of breaking any future dates either. Trey had a sneaking suspicion that now that he knew what a wonderful man Wade was, he wouldn’t be able to spend enough time with his cop.
As soon as Trey walked inside his apartment and spied Brock’s backpack on the counter, reality cruelly slammed back into Trey. He ran a hand through his hair and worried if he were making a huge mistake as far as his oldest brother was concerned.
What Brock was running from was a whole lot bigger than addiction. He was wanted for a serious crime and Trey knew he himself was guilty of going against the law by even taking Brock in. Worse yet, if Chad and Devon were to find out, they’d never let Trey live it down. They already coddled and mothered over him far too much, if they thought he wasn’t capable of making smart decisions, things would become unbearable. Already as it was, Devon had been pressing Trey to move in with him and Saul—a situation that made Trey want to grind his molars in frustration. While he really did love Devon and Saul, that didn’t mean he wanted to share a house with them.
The apartment had a still, quiet feel to it that came when the occupants were asleep. He edged his way into the bedroom and found Brock sound asleep in the only bed. His brother was sprawled out over the full mattress, his mouth hanging open. A thin line of spit dribbled from one corner of his lips, the thread vibrating with each snore he let out.
At least Brock had changed into something less stinky. While Trey’s gray sweats and Hawks t-shirt made for a tight fit on his taller brother, at least they didn’t reek like a bathroom from an inner city flophouse.
Trey spotted the offending pile of clothing in one corner of his bedroom. Going over to them, Trey scooped them up and dashed outside long enough to toss them into the dumpster. If Brock woke up and had a problem with his missing duds, then Trey would just go out and buy him some new ones. Better to be out a few bucks than to have the offensive odor in his apartment.
Once he got back inside, Trey went to the bedroom and grabbed an extra pillow and blanket out of the closet. As he walked by the bed again, he paused to pull the covers over Brock’s too thin body. Just as Trey was pulling back his hand, Brock’s lids fluttered open.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight. I figured you’d be fucking that hot looking guy,” Brock mumbled sleepily.
“How did you manage to sneak a peek at my date?” Trey asked.
“I glanced out the window after you left. You know he carries himself like a cop.”
Wow, Trey had never thought of that, but then again before then, he didn’t know cops carried themselves a certain way. Of course that could be because the closest Trey had ever got to a bust had been his Saturday night fix of Cops.
“That’s because he is a cop,” Trey said as he stared closely at Brock in confusion and a bit of concern.
“What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me?” Brock demanded as he sat up.
Trey frowned, perplexed even further by his brother’s odd behavior.
“I did tell you. Don’t you remember?”
“No, you didn’t. I wouldn’t forget something that important,” Brock argued, his eyes going crazy wide.
You want to rethink that one, buddy, because I know for a fact I already informed you of Wade’s job. Damn, the drugs must have really done some lasting damage to Brock’s brain.
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know you’re here,” Trey soothed.
That seemed to take some of the fire from Brock’s eyes. “Do Chad and Devon know?”
“No, I promised you I would keep things quiet about you being here and I plan to keep it.”
Although Trey was beginning to have serious regrets for making such a rash promise. Brock let out a relieved sounding sigh as he reached out and pulled Trey into an awkward hug.
“You’ll see, T, I’m going to make you proud this time,” Brock vowed.
“I’m sure you will,” Trey replied automatically.
Brock pulled back and pinned him with an intense stare. “I really mean it. I’m going to get completely clean. This time I know it’s going to work because I’m not doing it just for me. I want to prove to you that I’m worth the risk you’re taking.”
Oh, how Trey wanted to believe that. He really, really did, but after seeing Brock slide back into his old habits so many times, Trey couldn’t let go of his healthy dose of doubt. He couldn’t let it show though. Pasting on a huge fake smile, Trey said, “Of course you will. I have complete faith in you.”
Chapter Seven
Wade waited in the hallway leading to the half dozen locker rooms for the south side of the arena. Since it was around six, the place was busy as kids and their parents arrived for practice. Wade himself had just left one of the locker rooms after helping Andy with his goalie gear. While the kid was getting better at getting his equipment on, he still needed help doing up the straps of his bulky, goalie pads.
When Wade had asked where Trey may be, a sly grin passed over Andy’s face before he shared that Trey usually got dressed in the ref’s locker room. Since there were currently no games, Trey would have the smaller room all to himself. Which was just perfect for what Wade planned.
Between the Pipes Page 6