Chapter Four

Why yes. Yes, it could get worse. Not only did Dr. Weasley seem happy to see me, her office was revolting. It was all peachy-tan with potted plants hanging in front of a big window. One wall held a bookshelf and another had a painting of some sort of weird Watership Down shit, like bloody rabbits limping across a battlefield.

“Did Charlie Manson paint this or what?” I asked as I studied a white fuzzy lump jabbing at another white fuzzy lump with a bayonet.

“No, my daughter did.”

I turned my head to look at her over my shoulder. “No offense, but your daughter has some major fucking issues. Maybe you should let her take my slots.”

“Perhaps you’re just projecting onto the picture. When I look at it, I see a red sunset.”

I returned my attention to the oil painting. If I squinted and tipped my head to the left, maybe it could be a sunset, and the white things were clouds and not rabbits on the warpath.

“Why don’t you come have a seat? We can chat and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d rather look at the rabbit genocide.”

“Yes, well, as fine as your ass is, I’d rather look at your face.”

I spun around and gave her a randy wink. “You sly old MILF, you.”

She smiled, pressed the hem of her green dress tighter to her thighs, then nodded her red head to the chair next to hers. I walked over and dropped into the chair.

“I’ll admit that I’m shocked that you came of your own accord, Mr. Kalinski,” she said, then placed the glasses that hung on her neck from some beaded chain to her pug nose. “After reading the team reports, I assumed the only thing that would get you into my office was if you were hog-tied and carried in over someone’s shoulder.”

“I’m just full of surprises.”

“So I see. I also see that you’re known for being brutally honest, almost to the point of using honesty as a weapon.”

I inclined my head, and folded my arms over my chest.

“Would you like to proceed as we are, pretending to be social and feeling each other out? Or would you prefer to just get right to the meat of things?”

“I’m big on getting to the meat,” I tossed out, in hopes of getting something from her.

She just nodded her scarlet head and leveled cool brown eyes at me. “Good. I like to cut out the bullshit as well. Why don’t you tell me about your anger issues?” She sat back and crossed one chunky leg over the other. “Why are you so angry all the time?”

“I wouldn’t be angry all the time if stupid people didn’t piss me off continually.”

“So your anger is everyone else’s fault?”

“Bingo. Can I go now? My gay lover needs me to help him bleach his asshole.”

“Are you trying to shock me with the fact that you’re engaged in a homosexual relationship with your teammate?” she asked. I had been, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to cop to it. “If so, you’re going to have to do better. I’ve heard much, much worse, so you can stop deflecting and answer my original question.”

“I think I don’t like you much, even if you are Ron’s mom.”

“You don’t have to. What you do have to do is come here twice a week and talk to me. Maybe, just maybe, if you let me try to help you, your life might begin to work for you instead of against you. Your coach’s notes say that he hasn’t seen such raw, natural talent since Phil Esposito was playing in Bean Town. You must be some kind of center to pull in praise comparing you to number seven.”

“You know hockey?”

“Please, Mr. Kalinski. I was born and raised in Detroit.”

“My condolences.”

“Says the man from Chicago.”

“Touché.”

“So, your anger? Why do you seek to place it on other people instead of accepting the responsibility for your own emotions and actions?”

“Sweet holy fuck,” I groaned, and began willing the nearest wall to fall onto my sexy ginger head.

The walls stayed up, damn it. How I managed to walk upright from Dr. Mindprod’s office, I do not know. Sheer willpower, I guess. Inside I was crawling to Dan’s Jeep. Damn shrink was sharp, I had to give her that. She was also persistent. She whittled away at your defenses, wiggling into any tiny hole she could make, then feasting on your pulpy goodness like a pine borer larva.

I was mentally exhausted by trying to keep her out of the places where she didn’t belong. No one pressed me about that shit. No. One. Not even Dan, and he was the biggest presser I knew. He was also the only person I had ever loved. If I wasn’t confessing all to him, I sure as F.U.C.K. was not telling Mrs. Weasley about the bad shit.

I sat behind the wheel of Dan’s car for a few minutes, working on getting my head back in order. Greedy bastard that I am, I needed to talk to Dan, like, right now. His voice would soothe the wounds that fucking shrink had made. Imagine my anger when I pulled out my cell and found the battery dead.

“You suck,” I sighed, tossed the defunct phone to the passenger seat and cranked the Jeep over. The ride home broke several speed limits. There might also have been a couple of stop signs that got no stoppage. The Jeep skidded into place next to my Escalade. I climbed the steps two at a time. Dan was in the kitchen doing something with chicken breasts when I blew into the room. He looked up from dinner.

“Oh shit,” he whispered when he saw me. I went to him and pulled him in to my chest. “I need to wash my hands. They’re covered with raw chicken.”

“I need you more,” I coughed, then pushed my face into his hair.

He gave up and placed his bloody hands to my back. Dan knew. He knew not to say anything as I inhaled and exhaled the smell of his shampoo.

“I tried to call you,” he said a moment later. I grunted and tightened my hold. “Heather tried to get in touch with you. The results from the blood test are back.”

“Can we just not talk for another five hours or so? Please, sweets?”

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Dan rested his head on my shoulder. We stood there, embracing each other, for a good ten minutes. I listened to him breathe. I felt his chest rise and fall. I tasted the man’s scent on my tongue, and I dug my fingertips into his shoulder blades, just in case he thought of maybe moving.

“I love you,” I said as his hair fluttered over my lips. “Did she tell you the results?”

“She said to call her. I didn’t ask. Is your phone dead again?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is. I love you. Can you tell me that you love me too?”

“You know I do, babe.” He turned his head to press a kiss to my throat. “You going to call her now?”

I didn’t want to—holding Dan tight to me felt like all I was going to be able to handle for the rest of the day—but I stepped away from my rock and held out my hand.

“You need to remember to charge yours on occasion,” Dan muttered, but placed his phone into my hand. “Go sit down on the couch so you don’t faint when you get the news.”

“I don’t do fainting.”

I walked out into the living room and collapsed onto the couch as I dialed. I heard Dan washing his hands. The window in the living room was open and Mansfield was yapping at his shadow again. Heather picked up quickly. My gut knotted when Dan placed his hands to my shoulders from behind.

“Vic, man, do you ever charge your phone?” Heather asked.

“Guess not. So am I the daddy?”

“Ninety-nine point nine-nine percent probability that you’re Jackie’s dad,” she informed me. “They said they’re sorry it took so long. Something about the paperwork being sent to the wrong lab. Your lawyer should have a copy too, if you want to see it on paper—you know, if you think I’m lying to you about it.”

“Nah, nah, I don’t think you’re lying.” Dan began rubbing his thumb over my jugular. “So I guess I need to get out my checkbook, huh?”

“Are you mad at me? I didn’t mean to do this, Vic, I really didn’t.” I could almost see the tears welling up in her big blue eyes.

“I’m not mad. You didn’t make the kid by yourself. Anyway, I kind of had a vibe that the kid was mine.”

“Invite her over for dinner,” Dan said.

My head rolled back, the top resting on his flat stomach. I stared at him in total shock.

“It’s official, right?”

I nodded, his thumbs resting on my neck.

“We need to start making this thing right, Vic. The baby will need all three of us. Invite her over.”

“Are you sure?” It was all I could push out. Old Vic’s brainpan was depleted.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” He grabbed a kiss, then patted my neck. I watched him head back into the kitchen.

“Want to come over for some chicken?” I inquired of my baby momma.

“That would be great. I’m working the swing shift, so I don’t have to be at work until midnight. What time is dinner?” She sounded happier than she had a minute ago.

“Around six,” I replied.

“Super. I’ll be there. Tell Dan thanks for being…well, so Dan. Oh, and Vic, you’re totally going to rock this dad thing.”

She hung up. I buried my face in my palm and thought long and hard about locking Dan and me in our bedroom and not coming out until all of this blew over.

“Here.”

I lowered my hand. Dan was holding a bottle of Coke out to me. We had dumped all the booze down the drain. Now it was soda, water or milk. The domesticity of my life was downright embarrassing at times. I knocked back half the bottle of happy fizzy in one long pull. Dan sat down beside me, tugged the bottle out of my hand and took a swig.

“I’m out of root beer,” he informed me, then placed the bottle on the coffee table before slinging his leg over my thighs.

When he settled, I placed my hands on his sides. His fingers moved over my face and ended up on my scalp. My eyes drifted shut as Dan began massaging my head, his thumbs going in a circular motion on my temples.

“Holy fuck, that is nice,” I sighed.

He leaned in to give me a light peck. Things being what they are between Arou and me, that tiny smooch led to more tiny smooches. Soon his tongue was teasing the seam of my lips as his hips began a slow grind guaranteed to make me hot and hard. I was so into using sex to make me forget the past couple of hours. Dan’s hold on my head tightened as his tongue repeatedly swept the inside of my mouth.

He wiggled free after a nice, sloppy make-out session. I released my hold on his ribs and shivered as he slid to the floor between my spread legs. He unzipped my trousers and fished out my hard dick. His beautiful sapphire eyes met mine.

“Let me do this for you, Vic,” he said. “I don’t want nothing in return—just let me help ease you the only way I know how.”

“Dan, just looking at you across a crowded room eases me.”

He smiled, then ran his tongue around the head of my cock. My dick jumped in his hand. I grunted, and watched him ease me. Every sigh, every wet sound, every pass of those fat Elvis lips of his I made sure was burned into my brain—the feel of his teeth dragging on the underside of my prick, the smell of him and me and warm Cayuga air, the pressure of his mouth sucking more strongly with every pull. I emblazoned it all into the part of my soul that was just for Dan and me. My hips began to rise and fall as he began stroking me with a fist so tight it bordered on painful.

“You hot fucking little hobbit,” I gasped as he played porn star for me, jerking my dick frantically a few inches from his open mouth. My balls drew up tight, my spine seized, and my fingers dug into the sofa cushions. My eyes stayed open, though. Through each amazing contraction, each burst of release, my eyes stayed locked on Dan as my spunk covered his lips and chin. “Dan, fuck yeah, Dan.”

“You like that, don’t you, babe?” he asked, using the tip of his tongue to clean off his pouty bottom lip. A tremor big enough to level the neighborhood ran through me. “You like seeing your cum all over my face, huh?”

“Fuck yeah,” I panted as he continued to milk me. He’d said he didn’t want anything in return, but I had plans that included me tossing his fine little ass onto the coffee table, freeing his cock and giving him a blowjob not unlike the one he’d just given me, right down to the money shot. “You are one naughty fucking Baggins,” I groaned as he tongued the tip of my cock.

Dan chortled…then the motherfucking front door flew open and Dan’s motherfucking cousin exploded into the motherfucking living room.

“I made the team! Can you—oh, fuck!” Brooks skidded to a stop, his tan skin turning ashen when he laid eyes on his cousin with my dick resting on his bottom lip.

“Hey, asshole, try knocking,” I snarled.

Dan flopped around like a penguin on its back, using his shirt to clean off his face. I jammed my semi-flaccid dick back into my pants and zipped. Brooks made some sort of noises, then ran into the kitchen.

“Jesus,” Dan coughed, then pushed to his feet and jogged to the bathroom. I got up, belt still dangling, and entered the kitchen. Brooks, who was damn lucky he looked so much like Dan, because that was all that was saving him from a fist to the face, raised both hands, palms out, and backed into the fridge.

“Sorry, man. I am so fucking sorry,” Brooks said, blue eyes wide and skin a kind of sickly shade of green.

“You ever come barging into our place again without knocking, and I will fucking massacre you.”

“Got it—totally got it, Vic,” the younger version of an Arou male sputtered, then began rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Shit, I wish I had not seen that.”

“Knock next time, assclown.” I jerked the fridge open and extracted another bottle of Coke. This was going to be a six-pack day if ever there was one.

“Vow to my mother,” the kid said.

I twisted off the bottle cap and whipped it at Brooks’ fat, stupid head. It bounced off the buzz and he fumbled around to catch it. Dan appeared in the doorway, his cheeks still red with embarrassment. I leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped as the two Arou men tried to look at each other and failed.

“You two are twats,” I grumbled. “Stupid Jack here,” I waved my bottle of goodness at Brooks, who I think was vomiting into his mouth as we spoke, “has learned his lesson. Isn’t that right?”

“Right, right,” Brooks said as his eyes darted around the room.

“And that lesson is what, spunky?”

“Never walk into the apartment of two gay guys without knocking first.”

I nodded, totally letting the “I’m bi” comment wither, then polished off my second bottle of the day.

“Can you please not call me spunky? It reminds me of seeing Dan—”

Dan made a sound like a dog with a bone stuck in its throat.

“Sorry, spunky, that is now your name until the day you die. And if I’m still alive when you kick it, I will make sure it’s engraved into your tombstone. ‘Here lies Spunky Arou’,” I said as I made an arc in the air with my free hand, “who earned his nickname in a most egregious but hot man-on-man moment.’”

“Oh God,” Brooks moaned, then turned to wash his face in the kitchen sink.

“Leave off, Vic,” Dan said.

I thought to say more but since my man was still blushing like a prom queen, which was as cute as shit, I shut my trap.

“We’re just going to pretend that never happened, right?”

“Yes, please, thank you,” Brooks said as he shook water from his head.

“I ain’t asking you if you’re never going to bring it up again,” Dan grunted, then padded over to rip my bottle of Coke from my hand.

“Wise man,” I said, and gave him a pretty smile. “You don’t let a gold vein like that not be mined at every available opportunity.”

Dan turned from glowering at me to look at his cousin. Brooks had spent the last two weeks in a hotel by Seneca Lake trying his best to get signed by the ECHL team for the Minnesota Timber. ECHL teams allow tryouts. Think that awesome scene at the beginning of Happy Gilmore, one of the best flicks ever made right after Slap Shot, Goon, and anything with the name Conan in the title. And not that new Conan—the old one where Ahnold punches a fucking camel.

“So you got picked up?”

I tossed Brooks my hankie and he used it to dry his face.

“Yeah, got a contract for two years and everything.” The kid grinned like a jack-o’-lantern.

“Congrats, man. Welcome to the wonderful world of professional ice hockey.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking awesome!” Brooks beamed. “I’m going to be making, like, five hundred bucks a week.”

“Don’t spend that all in one place,” I mumbled.

Dan rammed an elbow into my ribs, then went over to embrace his cousin. “You done real good, Brooks,” he said as the two men hugged the hell out of each other.

“It’s so worth all the work I put in. So yeah, the Seneca Stingers are just in the next county, only like twenty minutes from the Rader. You think I can crash here for a few weeks—you know, until I can get the cash for my own place?”

Dan was still hugging Brooks, but his gaze landed on me over his cousin’s wide shoulder. I shook my head strongly.

“Yeah, sure, that will be okay, Brooks.”

I threw both hands into the air. Dan’s lapis eyes narrowed as Brooks pulled out of the embrace.

“Thanks, man—you two are the best.” Spunky grinned from ear to ear. “I swear you won’t even know I’m here.”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled under my breath, then went to the fridge for another Coke. Fuck the six-pack shit—I was going to need a case.

I was reclining on the sofa, my tenth Coke resting in my hand, watching the show that was taking place in my living room. Nothing on the networks could have topped what was going here. Brooks and Heather were so giddy infatuated that I feared gagging on the puppy love lust clouding the room. The two kids flirted and smiled, touched and giggled, and made assholes out of themselves. Dan, who was too grumpy to sit, was out in the kitchen, loudly scrubbing pots. After another clattered into the sink, I rose, gave the two kids a wave of my soda bottle, and left them to tee-hee-hee over some stupid cat game Heather had on her phone.

“You’re supposed to be washing those, sweets, not beating the stuck-on food out of them,” I commented as I entered the kitchen. Dan’s reply was a wet sponge thrown at my head. After I dried my face with my Mastadon T-shirt, I lobbed the sponge back at him, then walked over to stand at his left. “Care to tell me what’s up your ass?”

“No, I don’t think I should.” Dan set to work scrubbing the pan he had baked the chicken in. “It will just make you mad.”

I turned to the side and rested my hip on the edge of the counter. “Dan, I know you’re struggling with Heather,” I said softly. His fat lips compressed and he scrubbed harder. “She’s not that bad really. And I think Brooks is old enough to know who he wants to sink his dick into, although the thought of doing that with a chick who’s gestating makes me kind of woozy—”

“The thought of doing that with a chick at any time makes me woozy,” he hissed. Water slopped out of the sink onto the counter.

“You’re such a queer,” I said playfully. He threw me a look. “The point I was trying to make is that Brooks is an adult. If he wants to chase that skirt, then it’s not your place to say anything.”

“She’s not the kind of girl Brooks should be dating.”

“Whoa. Just whoa there, Dobby—did my ears just catch some slut-shaming? Come on, Dan, you are so not that guy. I’m that guy, not you.”

Heather laughed in that way chicks do when they’re trying not to snort. It failed and she snorted anyway. Brooks laughed at her snort. Oh, the feels. Pity Dan wasn’t in sync with all the gooey goodness.

“Look,” he spat, then whipped the sponge into the sink. Suds flew into the air. “I grew up taking care of Brooks. His dad died when he was just a kid. His mom had to work two jobs to keep him and her fed. He’s like another brother to me. It was him I give all my old hockey equipment to.” I hoped the shenanigans in the living room were drowning out his hissy fit. “He told me his dreams, you know? They didn’t include hooking up with some girl who got herself pregnant by my boyfriend.”

“Are you mad at her because Brooks likes her, or are you mad at her because I liked her one night?”

“Both. Fuck you. Finish this. I’m going to bed.”

Off he went, his nose severely out of joint and soap suds dripping from his hands.

“Wow,” I whispered, and washed the fucking pan. When I was done, I let the water out of the sink and wiped up the counters as Dan does. Hell, I even sponged off the table.

“Hey, Vic, Brooks is going to walk me to my car.” Heather bounced into the kitchen as I was knocking crumbs onto the floor with my wet sponge. “Thanks for dinner. Dan is a really good cook. Is he not feeling well or something?”

“He’s just tired. Long day,” I lied.

She smiled sweetly, then ran over to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m not sure I like the beard,” she giggled as she pawed at her nose.

“Look, can I talk to you for one minute before you go?”

“Sure, what’s up?” She took the sponge from my hand and began going over the top of the kitchen table.

“I’ve been thinking, and maybe you should quit that job. I’m making good money. The Barracudas are still paying my contract, so cash isn’t a problem at all. You need to be taking it easy for the last three months,” I said, then dropped into one of our old chairs.

Her blue eyes went round. She stared at me, pushed a strand of long yellow hair behind her right ear, then sat down as well and started dabbing at her eyes with the sponge.

“Oh, come on, don’t cry. Shit.”

“I’m not,” she coughed as tears ran down her cheeks.

“Then what the hell is that water leaking out of your eyes?”

“I got soap in my eyes.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Man, you suck at lying.” I reached out to put a hand on a lean thigh covered with bright-pink legging. The white-and-pink maternity top she was wearing made her look about fourteen instead of twenty-one. “Listen, just worry about school and the kid and let me sweat the cash. I’ll call the lawyer tomorrow and tell him I’m coughing up whatever you need.”

“You’re such a dick, Victor.” She started crying harder.

Brooks came in then, his smile slipping when he found his crush sobbing into a sponge.

“What did you say to her?” He was instantly all defensive and protective.

“I told her I wanted her to quit working and let me support her until the kid came.”

Brooks reached up to scratch the side of his nose, his expression slack with stupidity.

“Yeah, I know. Chicks are impossible. I offer her cash she and she calls me a dick.”

“Well, you are a dick,” Brooks chimed in, then dropped into a crouch to whisper to Heather.

She coughed, sniffled, giggled, then left her seat to give me a hug. “Thank you, Vic. You really are an okay guy,” she said, then kissed my cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, keep it to yourself, though. I got a rep.”

“You and Dan will have to come shopping with me to pick out the stuff for the nursery. Oh! I have an ultrasound in a couple weeks. You two dads just have to be there for that,” she said, then she and Brooks ran off, hand in hand, to go stand beside her green VW bug and bat eyelashes at each other or maybe suck face. Crazy kids.

I turned off the kitchen light and headed to my bed, careful to step around Brooks’ bags by the doorway. I gingerly opened the bedroom door. Dan was lying across the bed on his stomach, his face buried in our pillows. I closed the door and made my way to our bed, my eyes focused on his sweet ass. Nothing but a pair of old jeans separated me from those tight little buttocks. My dick started to swell just thinking about getting into that.

“Don’t touch me,” Dan muttered into the pillows.

I drew back my hand and frowned. Then I sat down beside him on the bed.

“Just let me lie here and wallow in my own asshole behavior.”

I put my hand on his arm and began kneading his tat of Wolverine. He had taken off his shirt. Tight, tawny skin begged me to taste it.

“You know you can’t hide your face in a pillow every time you act like a jerk. If that were the case, I’d be walking around with a pillow tied to my head on a daily basis.” I bent to place my lips on his spine.

He twitched but never lifted his head from amid the pillows. “I just can’t seem to get a handle on this jealousy,” he said, then rolled onto his back.

I let my hand trail over his chest until it rested it on his pectoral. His eyes were closed but his face was tight and pained.

“I want to be a good guy, and I think I can, then when she shows up I throw myself a fit like a baby. Fucking A, this is so much harder than I thought it would be. Why am I acting like this?”

“Because you’re a human being who was hurt really badly by the man you love,” I said as my fingers dug into his firm flesh. His mouth drew into a deeper frown. “Dan, we all have nasty thoughts, right? I mean, every single person on this planet, unless you’re Gandhi or Mother Teresa, thinks mean things about people. We all judge others. We all feel jealousy, anger, lust and all those other deadly things the churches tell us we shouldn’t be feeling. You’ll get over this, because you’re one of the good people, and I’m not saying that just to get into your pants, although I really want to right now.”

“Brooks is here,” he reminded me as he opened his eyes. Instantly I was lost in those brilliant blue pools.

You know things are bad when Vic K. starts sounding like some goofy character in a gay romance, but there it is. I do get lost in his eyes, his voice, the way he skates, the touch of his hip against mine in bed and the smile that’s meant for me and only me.

“I hate that she slept with you. You’re mine—all of you is mine.”

“You want to fuck? Because I would totally be up to showing you just how much Kalinski loving is yours and only yours.”

Dan smiled. It was a weak one and never reached his eyes, but he smiled and nodded. Then motherfucking Brooks came back into the apartment, slamming doors and humming some stupid song by Marianas Trench.

“Brooks is here,” he said again, then rolled off the bed to get changed for sleep. I gave Dan’s cousin the middle finger, then pulled off my T-shirt and flung it at the door. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I tugged my jeans over my ass, taking the briefs with them. “Shoot.”

“I want to know what you’re planning for Prescott.”

I let my clothes lie on the floor despite the dark look Dan gave me. With a flick of my wrist, I tossed back the covers, crawled under the sheet and summer blanket, and patted the mattress beside me.

“Come cuddle up to me and we’ll plot, since we aren’t going to be screwing.”

Dan turned off the light, then shimmied up close, his leg lying over mine, his head resting on the pillow and his hand covering my navel. I whispered my plans into his ear, pausing only on occasion to nip at his earlobe in the hope that he would give up this Polly Puritan shit about no sex while Brooks was sleeping five feet away. He didn’t, the fucking cock-tease.

“You sure you can pull those ideas off?” Dan asked after yawning widely and burrowing more deeply into my side.

“Don’t you fret, sweets—I’ll pull them off. I just might need a little help.”