Risking the Shot (Stick Side Book 4)

by Amy Aislin

  “We can play next time?” Andy patted Tay’s head.

  “Sure thing,” Tay said.

  Dakota muffled a laugh at the big help me eyes Tay sent his way.

  Five minutes passed too quickly for Andy’s liking, but the campervan was three-quarters of the way done. Dakota and Andy walked Tay to the front door, Andy leading the pack as always, telling Tay about how next time he’d introduce him to his stuffed koala, Helix.

  Leaning into him, Dakota murmured, “Stay a few minutes?”

  Tay nodded and put on his boots.

  “Say goodbye to Tay and let’s go to bed.”

  “Bye, Tay,” Andy said, glum. “Next time we can finish the campervan an’ go on our road trip.”

  Tay cocked his head. “Didn’t you tell me that the puzzles are a project you do with your dad?”

  Beckoning Tay down, Andy whispered something in his ear that had Tay’s gaze shooting to Dakota’s. “Hm. He doesn’t, huh?” He straightened and took the coat Dakota held out. “All right. We can finish the puzzle next time.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” Dakota herded Andy to the stairs by the shoulders.

  “Bye, Tay.” Andy waved over his shoulder.

  “Bye, Andy. Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

  Dakota threw him a look he hoped conveyed don’t go anywhere. As they hit the second-floor landing, the front door opened and closed, hopefully as a trick so Andy would think Tay had left but with Tay on this side of it.

  Three books later, Dakota climbed out of Andy’s bed, brought the covers up to Andy’s chin, and kissed his head. What was it about an innocently sleeping child that always made his heart clench? Blinking sleepy eyes open, Andy hugged Helix close and said, “Daddy, can Tay come for dinner tomorrow?”

  Dakota chuckled and kissed him again. “I’ll ask. Good night. Love you.”

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  Downstairs, he found Tay perusing the family photos on the wall of the dining room. He’d removed his boots and coat, and his hands were stuffed in the back pockets of his jeans, his sweater straining at the shoulders. He smiled at Dakota over his shoulder and gestured at the largest frame, one roughly the size of a serving tray. “Your family?”

  “Yeah. We took that last summer when we were all home for my mom’s birthday.” The image was a disorganized mess: kids in a puppy pile in the grass of his parents’ backyard, his sisters-in-law with their arms around each other, Dakota and his brothers scattered throughout, his mom making a peace sign, his dad holding a barbecue spatula. It was perfect.

  He pointed out his brothers and his parents, his in-laws and his nieces and nephews, a pang arrowing through him. The family was scattered now with only three of his brothers still living in Halifax, but they still came together as often as they could.

  Tay wedged his shoulder up against Dakota’s. “You guys seem close.”

  “We are. Always have been.” Dakota snuck an arm around Tay’s back and, remembering Tay wasn’t close with his own siblings, changed the subject. “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Yes.” Head falling back, Tay groaned. “Also no. I really do need to go. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow and I want to get a reading assignment done tonight.”

  “Right, I remember now,” Dakota said as Tay turned toward him, hands coming up to grip his biceps. Dakota’s went to Tay’s hips. “West Coast games.”

  “Yeah.” Tay’s gaze dropped to Dakota’s mouth.

  “Guess I won’t invite you to dinner tomorrow then.”

  That gaze came back up, pleased and surprised. “Were you going to?”

  “Well.” He brought Tay in closer, thigh-to-thigh, chest-to-chest, his blood heating when Tay’s hands inched up his arms and around his neck. “Andy wanted me to.”

  “Oh, Andy wants me to come to dinner, huh?” Tay’s lips were a mere inch away now, slightly curved upward, amusement alight in his eyes.

  “Maybe I did too.”

  They were smiling when their lips met. Tay tasted slightly like the one beer he’d had with dinner and like something uniquely Tay. Fingers swept into Dakota’s hair and gripped, making him exhale sharply into Tay’s mouth. Thank fuck Tay had stayed.

  Dakota’s arms crept around Tay’s hips, one hand sneaking under Tay’s sweater to run over his back, the skin smooth and warm. The other gripped a handful of Tay’s ass, bringing him that much closer and nudging their semis together.

  Tay made a sound in the back of his throat, guttural and deep. It reverberated into Dakota’s bones and outward to the tips of his fingers. They were evenly matched in height; still, Tay rose up onto his toes as if that could bring them even closer together.

  A shiver wracked Tay’s whole body. Gentling the kiss that had gotten more heated than Dakota had anticipated, he pulled back and swept his thumb over Tay’s wet lips. “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” Eyes heavy-lidded, Tay smiled softly. “I’m just . . . I don’t know. Amazed.”

  “’Cause my kiss was that awesome?” Dakota teased.

  Tay let out a short laugh and cupped the side of Dakota’s neck. “It was pretty epic as far as first kisses go.”

  Before Dakota could ask what was actually amazing, Tay kissed him again, tongue curling into Dakota’s mouth. Dakota moaned, inserting a thigh between Tay’s legs.

  They kissed until Dakota’s mouth went dry, until his lips were sore. Until Tay lost his balance, clutching at Dakota’s shoulders with a laugh. He tucked his face into Dakota’s neck, the gesture so sweet and trusting that Dakota smiled against Tay’s temple.

  Pulling back, Tay searched his face. For what, Dakota couldn’t tell.

  “Can I take you out sometime?”

  Entranced by Tay’s smile, Dakota cupped his cheeks. “On a date?”

  “Mm-hmm.” A quick kiss landed on Dakota’s lips. “And then for our second one, maybe we can take Andy with us and go bowling or something.”

  Tay was already looking forward to their second date?

  More importantly, he wanted to include Andy too?

  “How would that work, though?” Dakota asked, hating himself when Tay’s smile dimmed. Someone had to think of the logistics. “You’re a sports celebrity. How could we go out and have it not seem like we’re on a date?” They’d have to make it look like they were two friends hanging out.

  “Let me worry about that,” Tay said, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Dakota’s jeans. His knuckles brushing the skin of Dakota’s waist had Dakota’s stomach clenching. Tay grinned. “That’s a yes, then?”

  No. Not only that, it should be a giant hell no. What if someone found out about them and it went public? Would reporters show up at his door? At Andy’s preschool? Shoving microphones in his son’s face and demanding answers he wasn’t old enough to give?

  Not that he expected that last thing to happen. The Canadian press was much more passive compared to its southern counterpart, or even its British one. Dakota couldn’t remember the last time an ambitious reporter had gone after a child just for a story.

  “That’s a yes,” he said, following his heart instead of his head. Maybe it’d bite him in the ass later; maybe it wouldn’t. But one thing propelled him in Tay’s direction more than anything else: he liked Tay, and he was willing to risk getting to know him better and finding out where this attraction could lead.

  “I’m away for the next week,” Tay said. “So next weekend?”

  “Sounds good.”

  A low beep sounded and Tay pulled his phone out of his pocket. “That’s the Uber I ordered while you were putting Andy to bed. It’s just a minute away.” Threading their fingers together, Tay led the way to the foyer. “Walk me out?”

  “Are you sure you can’t stay for a bit?” Dakota leaned against the wall while Tay put on his winter outerwear. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you all night.”

  “I wish I could, but I really want to get this assignment done so I don’t have to worry about it while I’m traveling.”

 
He was doing the mature thing. Well, bully for him.

  “Besides,” Tay said, picking up the backpack he’d left on the floor by the door and the plastic container of leftovers Dakota had left next to it. “I saw your laptop bag in the living room. Why do I have the feeling you’ve got work to do?”

  Dakota sighed. “I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish you could stay for another hour.”

  Tay kissed him, lips soft. Dakota memorized the feel and taste of him, sneaking his arms under Tay’s coat to find his waist.

  Headlights filtering in through the living room window was followed by a honk that had them separating. Tay settled his backpack on his shoulders and reached for the door handle. “Can I call you while I’m away?”

  “You better.”

  “Tell Andy thanks for dinner,” Tay said, stepping outside onto the front stoop.

  Dakota braced himself against the cold and stood in the doorway. “You know I made it, right?”

  Tay opened the car door and threw him a grin over his shoulder. “Says you.”

  Why that response made Dakota want to kiss him silly was anybody’s guess.

  MARCH

  By the time Tay’s team got to their third and final West Coast game in less than a week, the energy in the locker room in Anaheim was a combination of the kind of batshit crazy led by the overtired and the more mellow mood led by those who just wanted to get this game over with and go home. Currently, Xappa was giving everyone love taps on the ass with a wet, rolled-up towel while everyone else suited up for tonight’s game.

  Tay ignored the cursing and Xappa’s guffaws and sat on the bench in front of his locker in full gear, earbuds in and listening to Tenor Jones while doodling on a design app on his iPad. Since none of his teammates knew about his art—not even Stanton—when they were goofing off was often the best time to sneak in some drawing on the DL, tablet tucked close to his chest.

  Problem was, it’d been weeks since he’d spent any time with Rhys and Brendan—the original characters he’d created for his comic—and he was struggling with getting the shape of Rhys’s face right. Needless to say, his attempt at a new panel was going the way of their last game—into the shitter. It was a panel he’d been excited to draw too, one where oblivious Bren began to realize that Rhys—his brother’s best friend—might have feelings for him.

  He was embarrassingly rusty. Didn’t help that he was tired enough to take a nap sitting up.

  The once-a-season, week-long California road trip was never just about the games. There were press appearances, photoshoots, volunteer gigs. In Tay’s case, meetings with a potential new sponsor, AITech, a start-up company that was about to launch an AI-powered virtual assistant for money management. Why they wanted him to be the face of their Instagram campaign, Tay didn’t fully understand. All he did on Instagram was post pictures of himself with his teammates or his parents. A couple of years ago, he’d created a separate account under a different name—@TayDraws3—to post his comic, thinking he’d upload a chapter a week. Now that account sat there unused with nary a single post and only a couple dozen followers since he didn’t have the guts to share his work. He should just delete the damn thing; for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

  “Now let’s talk about our second item of business,” his agent had said two days ago in LA after their meeting with AITech. Mason had flown in from New York for the meeting, and he sat back in his chair on the rooftop restaurant of a boutique hotel that overlooked the city. The view was great, the food delicious, the ambiance California chill, the weather perfect. It wasn’t winter in Toronto, that was for damn sure.

  Tay forked a bite of his glazed salmon brown rice bowl and popped it in his mouth. “What would that be?”

  Mason, NHL quarterback shoulders straining against his dress shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows, leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Last time we met you were thinking about coming out publicly.”

  “Yeah. And you told me to think about it.”

  “Did you?” Mason sipped his water.

  Tay nodded. “I still want to come out. But not yet.”

  “Want to do it in the off-season like I suggested?”

  “Maybe.”

  Picking the sprouts out of his spicy Korean sashimi bowl, Mason said, “What changed in the last few weeks? You were all gung-ho to come out right then and there, and now you want to wait?”

  Tay dropped his fork and sucked sauce off his thumb. He had been gung-ho, tired of living in a closet, unable to hold hands with a guy in public. Not that he’d had a guy at that time, but he could admit that he’d been frustrated with hiding from everyone except his family and team.

  So what had changed? Two things.

  The first was Alex Dean and Mitch Greyson, who’d been able to make their relationship work for years without publicly coming out, proving that it could be done.

  And second . . .

  Tay cleared his throat. Wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I sort of . . . met someone.”

  “Okay.” Mason’s chewing slowed. “Given our conversation, I’m guessing your someone’s a he?”

  Tay nodded.

  “I get it. If you come out now, he’ll be tossed into the spotlight too.”

  “That. And he has a four-year-old son. Dakota can handle the spotlight.” Tay had no doubts about that. Dakota’s confidence virtually oozed off the man. “But his son . . .”

  “Kids change things.”

  “Yeah. I figure if I come out in the off-season, there’ll be less of a media shitshow, and hopefully, by the time the season starts, they will have more or less forgotten about us.”

  “They won’t,” Mason said, bursting the nice bubble of ignorance Tay had been happily living under. “Stanton came out two years ago, and he’s still being called Toronto’s gay hockey player. You talk to him about this? Get his perspective?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You talk to your guy?”

  “No. It’s . . . uh . . . new.”

  “Hmm.”

  They ate in silence for several minutes. A honk from the street far down below made its way up to them, and all around them was the sound of conversation and laughter and cutlery clinking against dishes. Servers inconspicuously made the rounds with water jugs. Tay glanced at Mason’s sunglasses enviously, wishing he’d remembered to bring his own from home. Flipping his phone over from where he’d had it facedown next to his plate throughout lunch, his lips curved upward at the new text from Dakota.

  At this time of day, that was unusual, as Tay had come to discover over the last several days. It was mid-afternoon in Toronto, which was when Dakota tended to get pulled into meetings at the off—

  Oh wait. It was Saturday. Dakota had fewer restrictions on his time, hence why he was texting Tay in the middle of the day.

  God. Being on the road meant Tay could never remember what day of the week it was.

  He tapped the message to open it and found a photo of a grinning Andy holding a puzzle box. The image on the box was of a many-turreted 3D castle, something out of fantasy books. Castles are my nemesis, Dakota’s text read. This one’s all you.

  Just castles? According to Andy’s whispered words before he’d gone to bed, Dakota hated 3D puzzles in general.

  I’m in, Tay texted back. Then he snapped a photo of the view—hills in the distance, palm trees down below, a cloudless sky a shade of blue so clear that Tay committed it to memory for use in his comic—and sent it to Dakota.

  Dakota’s next message was a photo of his front yard taken out of his living room window—at least, Tay thought it was his front lawn. He hadn’t gotten a great look at it in the dark—and the sleet that was making the photo blurry, with the caption, Sure. Rub it in.

  “Judging by the grin on your face, I’m guessing that’s your new guy,” Mason said. “How’d you two meet?”

  Business was off the table for the moment as they caught up on their personal lives. That was the thing about Mason�
��he genuinely cared about the players he represented, and he liked to say that he was friends with each of them. His no-bullshit attitude paired with his openness and likability was what had made Tay sign with him when he was still in the major juniors, despite the fact that Mason had been the greenest agent you ever did see, just starting out in the business after an injury cut his NFL career short.

  Once Mason had paid the check and they were on the street hailing a couple of cabs—one to take Mason to wherever he was going and one to take Tay to the arena for tonight’s game—Mason patted him on the back, suit jacket folded over one arm. “Keep me posted on your decision. You don’t have to decide tomorrow or even next year. Talk to Stanton and your guy. Let it germinate. You know where to find me if you need me.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “I’ll let you know when I get the contract from AITech,” Mason said, opening the back door of his cab.

  “Still don’t know why they want me,” Tay muttered, squinting against the sunshine. His own suit jacket was bunched in a loose fist.

  “You don’t know why they want a young, sexy, easily recognizable sports celebrity to promote their tech?” The look Mason shot him called him all sorts of stupid.

  Waving at Mason with a laugh, Tay got into his own cab.

  They were losing to Anaheim 3–1 at the end of the second period two days later, and that was despite the chocolate bar Tay had shared with Stanton prior to game time, a ritual they’d developed from their first ever away game together a couple years ago. The chocolate was only for away games.

  Not that it was a failsafe, as evidenced by their loss to LA on Saturday.

  He’d barely gotten his breath back from his last shift before he was in the game again. Adrenaline curled upward from the base of his spine, hot and vibrant, as soon as his skates hit the ice. Intercepting a pass near the blue line, he dodged one of Anaheim’s D-men and sent the puck to Grey with a wrist shot.

  Grey wasn’t fast enough. It was the theme of the night—they didn’t pass fast enough, didn’t intercept fast enough, didn’t skate fast enough. In Grey’s case, he didn’t move fast enough and ended up flat against the boards, the puck stolen by Anaheim’s left-winger. Tay winced in sympathy.