Risking the Shot (Stick Side Book 4)

by Amy Aislin

  “You’ll share yours when you’re ready, Tay.” Dakota rubbed Tay’s knee. “There’s no rush.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to say. Owen motivated me to want to share mine, so I was thinking I’d post the first chapter on the weekend.”

  “Uh . . .” God, the smile on Tay’s face was so fucking proud that Dakota hated himself already for what he was about to say. “You might want to talk to your agent about that first, no? Because if you start sharing your comic now—your super gay comic, I might add—you’ll be outing yourself without meaning to, and I thought you were going to wait until the off-season to do that.”

  “Oh.” There went the smile. As suspected, it made Dakota’s stomach clench. “Damn.”

  Dakota winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re totally right.” Scrubbing his hands over his face, Tay groaned into them. “Ugh, you’re so right. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “Look.” Dakota moved the cookies onto the coffee table and scooched forward, bumping his knees into Tay’s. Grasping Tay’s hands, he pulled them away from where Tay was digging his palms into his eye sockets. “If you want to share it sooner rather than later . . . Hell, if you want to come out sooner rather than later, I’m with you, one hundred percent. I just want you to think about it first and speak with your agent.”

  “No, no. I do want to wait until the off-season. There’s too much happening with the playoffs starting in a couple of weeks. I don’t want to distract my team with this. Ugh.” Tay fell forward onto Dakota, burying his face in Dakota’s chest. “It sucks that coming out will be a distraction.”

  “Yeah,” Dakota said with a sigh. “I know. Still, it’s brave of you to do it, and to share your comic.”

  “I can’t decide which one’s scarier. Anyway.” With a kiss to Dakota’s collarbone that had goosebumps erupting on the back of Dakota’s neck, Tay sat up. “I should go. Let us both get some sleep.”

  “It’s late. Stay the night.” Tay was flying out late afternoon tomorrow for a six-day road trip with his team, and Dakota wanted every extra minute with him he could get. “That way you can help me clean the crumbs off this couch in the morning.”

  Tay blinked down at his mess. “Oops.”

  APRIL

  Tay hadn’t stopped moving in over three hours. If he wasn’t throwing extra finger foods in the oven to warm, he was bringing out more mini sandwiches or washing dishes or refilling the makeshift cooler with ice or opening additional bottles of wine or swiping empty plates off side tables and counters and bringing them to the kitchen. That was the thing about hosting a party—you didn’t get to enjoy it.

  Didn’t matter. Mom was over the moon. Not only had she not had any idea about the party, but she’d cried when she’d spotted old friends and extended family who’d driven in from out of town just to celebrate her sixtieth with her. She currently sat in the living room laughing with friends. Gran sat on the couch next to her, picking at cheese puffs and mini quiches. It wasn’t the healthiest but at least she was eating.

  He’d lost Dakota to the melee at some point. The last Tay had seen of him, he’d been chatting with Dad and nursing a beer since there wasn’t any scotch to speak of in his parents’ house. Andy, too, had disappeared into the crowd, no doubt playing with Tay’s cousins’ kids.

  “Good idea having Dad take Mom to the movies this afternoon,” Anna said. She dried a serving dish and passed it to Stella.

  Tay dunked more trays in soapy water to soak. “I told him to take her to the longest one.” There was a theater nearby that played old movies. They’d lucked out that this weekend’s movie was Gone With the Wind, giving them over four hours to pick up the food from the catering service, decorate, and greet guests.

  Tay was grateful he’d been able to attend at all. His last regular-season game was two days ago, but with his team making the playoffs, he could’ve been scheduled for a game tonight. Not that the NHL routinely held games on Sundays, but with it being the playoffs, anything was possible. As it was, game one of the first round wasn’t for another couple of days, but that didn’t mean Tay had extra free time. Coach Dabrowski was working them to the bone and had them watching so much tape Tay was sure he was mumbling hockey plays in his sleep.

  Stella grabbed the box of frozen assorted finger foods and emptied it onto the tray. “This is the last of it. After this we have to order pizza if people are still hungry.”

  “I thought for sure we ordered enough food,” Anna said, hanging the dish towel over a cabinet door.

  Tay peeked into the dining room. “There’s still a bunch of deli meats and buns and lots of pasta salad. The spring rolls and veggie platter got demolished, though. And the poor cake.” The cake looked like hungry heathens had been at it. Hell, everything did.

  Mom had also cried when she’d seen the cake. Tay had brought Dakota front and center and showed him off, ensuring he got all the praise he deserved, but he’d just shrugged it off. Tay’s chest had puffed out in pride anyway. His man made some cool shit.

  “Think we can actually sit down now?” Anna brushed past him into the dining room. “I’m starving.” She made herself a plate of food. Tay shared a glance with Stella before following suit. There was nothing left to do but eat—finally—and mingle.

  Stella, however, had other ideas; grabbing their coats, she shepherded them onto the back porch. It being after eight, the sun had already set, and they sat in the iron deck chairs Dad had already brought out of the shed despite the temperatures not having quite crawled up past zero. Spring in Toronto meant they could expect snow until the end of April.

  “Sorry,” Stella said, sticking a fork into pasta salad. “I couldn’t hear myself think in there.”

  “Not like we’re needed right now anyway.” Anna sat back and kicked out her legs. “Mom’s holding court.”

  Tay balanced his plate on his lap and speared a meatball. “As it should be.”

  “Hear, hear.” Anna chewed thoughtfully. “At what point is it okay to start kicking people out?”

  “Did we put an end time on the invitations?” Tay asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Stella’s idea.”

  “Hey, I didn’t hear you rebutting,” Stella said, mouth full. “Besides, you only include end times on invitations if you’re in grade school.”

  “Follow-up question, then.” Anna held up her fork. “At what point is it okay to sneak out?”

  Tay sipped his beer. “When we’ve put away all the food, taken down all the decorations, and haven’t left anything for Mom and Dad to clean up.”

  “So, never.”

  Tay snorted a laugh. The night was brisk, and a shiver ran through him from head to toe, making his chair shake. Why hadn’t he thought to grab his toque? Or his gloves? He was about to suggest they head back inside when Stella said, “How’s your comic book coming along, Tay?”

  “Uh, good.” His first instinct was to change the subject, but Dakota’s words from their lunch at The Loose Moose picked at the back of his brain. Has it ever occurred to you that they might not know how to talk to you either? Maybe this was them trying, which meant he had to meet them halfway. “I’ve been working on it in my spare time.”

  “Almost done?”

  “Not really? I decided to go back to the first book to update it since my art style’s changed a lot since high school, so I haven’t had a lot of time to work on the final book in the trilogy.”

  “Trilogy?” Stella slapped his arm. “Holy crap, Tay! Here I thought you were just drawing a short comic, but three books? That’s amazing.”

  “I look forward to reading it.” Anna said. “I can’t believe you wrote a book. Drew a book? Either way, that’s more than I’ll ever accomplish.”

  Tay stared at her. “You’re a doctor. You literally save people’s lives. How is that not accomplishing something?”

  “Speaking of saving lives.” Stella picked a mushroom out of th
e rice pilaf and flicked it onto the grass with a grimace. “Exams this week?”

  “Next.”

  “Ready for them?” Anna asked.

  “Sure.” No, he most certainly was not. In fact, he was missing them both because he was traveling with his team for games three and four against Boston. He was making them both up, on the same day, the weekend he returned. Already the pit in his stomach yawned wide. The remainder of his practicals hadn’t been as big of a failure as his first two, no doubt owing to his conversation with Professor Lai that took away some of the pressure. Still, it’d be a stretch to say he’d passed with flying colors. There had been no flying. Or colors. Just anxiety and second guesses that made him feel like he was about to go splat all over the ground.

  When Desie had gotten hurt, it had proved to Tay that he wouldn’t lose his shit under pressure. It was a comfort knowing that he wasn’t a complete screw-up of a paramedicine student. Still, after his exams, he was hitting pause on his classes to reevaluate whether it was what he truly wanted.

  Anna wasn’t convinced by his lackadaisical answer. “You know I’m here if you have any questions, right?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m good, thanks.”

  She shared a glance with Stella Tay would’ve missed had he not been paying attention and had he not had Dakota’s words at the top of his mind.

  “Listen,” Stella began, apparently having been appointed the point person during their silent conversation. Tay stiffened, expecting a lecture on how he wasn’t cut out to be a paramedic. Yeah, he’d figured that one out all on his own, thanks. “I know we weren’t there much for you when you were a kid,” she said, shocking him still. “The only excuse we have is that we were self-absorbed teenagers and then we were self-absorbed adults.” Her smile was rueful and it faded quickly. “But we’d like to change that. We’d like to be there for you now if you’ll let us.”

  The kid can’t cut it in a four-year degree. Especially not at U of T. Even the smartest students fail out of there and Tay’s never been strong in academics.

  He didn’t know which one had said it, and it frustrated him that the words circled in his head whenever he felt like a failure. And with his paramedicine program, that was almost always. It was a constant reminder that he wasn’t good enough.

  “Okay.” He nodded slowly, the food turning to dust in his mouth. “I’d like that, and I’d like to be there for the both of you too. It’s just . . .” Too many thoughts circled, and he didn’t know what he was trying to say. “I spent a long time chasing your shadows and—” He cut himself off, realization hitting with the force of a cyclone.

  Jesus fuck. He was still chasing their shadows. Still trying to get their attention. Still trying to get them to notice him. He thought he’d chosen paramedicine because he wanted to live up to their expectations and prove to them that he was just as capable. Truth was, he’d wanted to be like them. Maybe if he chose a program that was as hard as medicine or law, they’d see him as an equal and give him the time of day.

  Anna nudged his foot. “And what?”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he shook his head. Didn’t matter that they’d made him feel like he wasn’t good enough for most of his life. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He didn’t have to meet their expectations. The only person’s expectations he had to meet were his own.

  And yeah, he genuinely wanted to help people, but it was like Dakota said—there were other ways of doing that. And if he could make a difference in just one person’s life with his comic, it will have been worth the agony of putting his art out there for people to judge.

  “Neither of you have taken me seriously my entire life.”

  “That’s not true,” Stella protested.

  He stared at her until she winced.

  Anna sighed, shoulders up to her ears against the cold. “It is true. We both know that, Stell. The only excuse we have, Tay, is that we didn’t want our little brother hanging out with us.”

  Ouch. Tensing, Tay glanced down and pushed the food around on his plate.

  “And that doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Anna went on. “It’s just that the age gap between us made it so we were always into different things. And then Stella and I were out of the house for university before you were even ten years old, and we sort of . . . lost the opportunity to get to know you. That’s our fault, I know.” She held up a hand when Tay opened his mouth to rebut. “You were such an eager thing when you were little, and then you just . . . stopped trying.”

  “It became obvious you didn’t want to give me any attention,” Tay said softly. “So I stopped trying to get it.” This conversation was long overdue, and while the explanation was good to hear, it didn’t erase twenty-three years of feeling like he wasn’t worth their time.

  “Yeah, we understand that,” Stella said, equally soft. “And we’re really sorry we weren’t there for you. Like I said, we want to change that.”

  “Why? You still don’t take me seriously.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Tay rubbed his temples, frustration bleeding up his neck to form the start of a tension headache. “No. The other day, at lunch, you called it ‘my little comic book,’ like it isn’t something that I’ve poured my heart and soul into since high school.”

  “Tay—”

  “You thought I made Dakota up,” he barreled on, ignoring Anna. “You questioned whether or not I’m bi, as if I’d come out for fucking shits and giggles. You voice your opinions about buying my own place or taking on too much or this or that whatever, considering that I’ve thought of all the consequences already. You call me ‘kid’ as though I still am one—I assure you, I’m not. You can’t see that I’m drowning in my program, and you talk behind my back about not being able to cut it in a four-year degree.”

  “Wait, what about your program?” Anna leaned forward in her seat.

  Suddenly out of energy, Tay slouched in his. “That’s a topic for another day.”

  “I don’t understand about the talking behind your back thing,” Stella said. “When did we say you couldn’t cut it in a four-year degree? Obviously you can. You can do whatever you want, Tay. I mean, you play pro hockey. How many others couldn’t cut it in the NHL, huh?”

  Poking at his pasta salad, he shoved a twirly noodle in his mouth. “It was a couple of years ago at Sunday brunch before I started my program. You were talking in the kitchen and I overheard you.”

  “I don’t remember that.” Stella looked to Anna for confirmation.

  Anna shook her head. “Me neither.”

  Oh good. They didn’t remember a conversation that had cut him off at the knees and shaped so much of his determination to succeed in his classes. Appetite gone, Tay scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “Whether or not we remember saying it isn’t the point,” Anna said, correctly interpreting Tay’s frustration. “We shouldn’t have said it. Shit, we shouldn’t have thought it. Someone who can make it to the NHL can certainly make it through such an intense program. I’m sorry, Tay.”

  “Me too,” Stella added.

  They sounded so sincere, and what was Tay supposed to do? Hold a grudge for the rest of his life? That wasn’t who he was, nor who he wanted to be. Plus, it’d make for awkward family get-togethers. He believed them when they said they wanted to be there for him now. Whether he let them was up to him.

  Attempting to meet them halfway, he said, “Thank you for the apology. And I’m sorry I’ve been blind to the fact that you’ve really been trying the last several months.” He could see it now as he remembered them asking about his art, and how, a few minutes ago, Anna had offered to help. And Stella’s quip about him actually being bisexual? And the other one about Tay making Dakota up? She’d been teasing, only he hadn’t realized it at the time, too mired in his own history to notice.

  Anna snorted a laugh. “In your defense, we could’ve been more obvious about it.”

  “Yeah, guys don’t get subtlety, do they?” Stella said, laughter in her
voice.

  That sent all three of them chuckling, and it was nice to laugh with them over something so mundane.

  “What do you think about getting together a couple times a month?” Tay asked. “Just the three of us? To grab lunch or coffee or even a beer.”

  Anna clinked her beer bottle against his. “Sounds good to me.”

  “We just have to find time in our busy calendars,” Stella said with an eye roll. “No sweat.”

  A knock on the patio door had them all turning. Dakota stood on the other side, brows lowered, and sent him a thumbs up.

  Aw. His guy was checking up on him. Heart stumbling to a stop at Dakota’s feet, Tay grinned and sent him a thumbs up in return, making a mental note to kiss him silly later for being so damn sweet. Dakota winked at him and turned back to the party.

  “Forget your classes,” Stella said with a teasing smile. “Tell us about your guy.”

  “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours. Sorry I didn’t have any comp tickets left for you.”

  She waved a hand. “No worries. I took him to a titty bar.”

  Tay’s fork paused halfway to his mouth.

  Anna choked on her beer. “You did not.”

  “Did too.” Smile turning smug, Stella tossed her hair. “Got the best orgasm of my life after too.”

  A violent shudder passed through Tay. “Ugh. Gross. TMI.”

  The patio door opened and Andy stepped out, laughing madly. Tay did a double-take, his mouth dropping open. “How did you . . . ? When did . . . ? What the . . . ?”

  Andy was covered in flour, head to toe, and apparently very happy about it. “Dad’s chasing me, Tay!”

  “Yeah, I bet he is.”

  “Hide me.” Andy ran behind his chair.