Interference, p.3
Interference, page 3
While Wyatt and Lily were in the back, I left the cats with Sue for a moment and took their bags of food as well as Lily’s out to my car. When I came back, she handed me the leashes, but met me with an expression of renewed concern.
“Do you think Simon going to be okay with this arrangement?”
My stomach flipped, but I managed an uncomfortable laugh. “I should text him.”
Sue grimaced, and I couldn’t even blame her. And yeah, I probably did need to text him.
Just… not for the reason she was thinking.
I took a seat in the lobby, and once I’d made sure both cats were occupied—Moose sitting in a chair and watching the parking lot, Bear lying on the floor attacking Moose’s chair—I took out my phone.
Anthony: Going to be home a little late. Can we FaceTime at 9 instead of 8?
I cringed as soon as I sent it. Again when he read it. I leaned back in the chair and petted Moose while I waited for Simon to respond. The longer it took, the tighter my stomach wound. Tonight’s FaceTime call would be delightful, I was sure. They were always tense and stressful, and if I did something to piss him off—which I seemed to do just by breathing these days—that would be even worse.
Maybe I should’ve just bailed altogether for tonight. Told him something had come up. He was going to be a dick about it either way, but at least I wouldn’t have to actually talk to him until tomorrow.
Until tomorrow morning. When he picked me up so we could head to practice. Together. Where we’d have to continue putting on the charade of a happy couple.
Christ, was the season over yet?
Yeah, right. It was only mid-November.
Mid-November with a vicious cold snap coming in. That meant December, January, and February—maybe even March—were going to be brutal. Especially for someone sleeping outdoors with his extremely short-haired dog.
I could help Wyatt and Lily tonight. But what about the rest of the winter?
A sharp beep yanked me out of my thoughts, and renewed dread filled my gut as I looked down at my phone.
Simon: Look, if you don’t want to do this, then just say so. I don’t have time to be jerked around.
I rolled my eyes and suppressed a string of curses. My fingers itched with the responses I wished I had the spine to type out.
I’m the only one putting in any goddamned effort, but sure, yeah, asking to bump our conversation by an hour means I’m not committed.
I mean, you could always move back in so we could talk face to face like a normal couple.
You’re the one who acts like this is a giant imposition, and God forbid I suggest counseling, so why don’t you just go fuck yourself?
But I really did want to get us back on the rails. This wasn’t who we were—it was just an incredibly rough patch, further complicated by all the pressure we were under to not let a single crack show to anyone else. Hell, even if we did decide to break up, we’d still have to play the perfect couple at least until the hockey season was over unless we wanted to pay for it professionally. Our club had made that crystal clear. So, like it or not, it was in my best interest to, for the time being, at least try to smooth things over with Simon.
And how do you think he’ll react if he finds out about Wyatt?
Not well, that was for sure. So it was probably best for me to keep this whole thing up my sleeve. The last thing we needed was more to fight about.
I took a deep breath as I carefully chose my words. Then I sent him a text.
Anthony: I’m sorry. Something came up so I can’t be sure I’ll be able to talk at 8. I might be, though. I can text you when I’m home. Just didn’t want to be late. That’s all.
I scowled at my own words. He was probably making a similar face, if not for the same reasons. God, I was so tired of bowing and scraping every time I needed him to give an inch. He’d just flat out not bothered to show up for two of our FaceTime calls. No heads up. No explanation. No apology. But heaven forbid I had anything come up, even when I tried to be courteous and let him know.
I exhaled, my shoulders sinking as fatigue settled in. This was exhausting, and I was pretty sure that wasn’t how relationships were supposed to be. Sometimes I wondered if it would just be easier to throw in the towel and move on.
But whenever my mind went there, it also went back to that day two seasons ago when Simon and I had been sitting in our general manager’s office like a pair of schoolkids facing the principal. The president of hockey operations, the head coach, and two reps from the organization that owned the team had loomed behind him as he’d stared us down across his desk.
“I am not fucking around, boys.” Our GM’s voice echoed in my ears. “We’re taking a big risk, letting a pair of teammates fraternize the way you are. A lot of potential for PR shitstorms, and even more potential for conflict in that locker room.” He’d narrowed his eyes and growled, “Mark my words—we think for a second the two of you are on the outs, one or both of you will be gone. Am I clear?”
Simon and I had nodded solemnly.
In that moment, despite being intimidated as hell by the team’s brass, it had been easy to make that commitment. Simon and I got along great. We’d been so good at keeping our relationship from affecting the team that no one had even caught on for the first entire year we’d been together. The only reason we’d found ourselves in that meeting was because we’d wanted to do right by our team and be honest. We’d come out. For a few unnerving days, we were sure one or both of us would be traded, waived, or released.
Ultimately it was our coach who’d gone to bat for us, saying we were each too valuable to the team on and off the ice. And public relations had stepped in to say that being the first team in the League with an out couple on the roster would be a PR jackpot.
Both of those things were true… as long as we didn’t hit the skids or break up.
After our GM had put the fear of God into us, we’d gone public. It had done great things for the team’s image, and we’d found ourselves being called an iconic power couple. Though we hadn’t been the first players to come out in the League, we were the first player couple. We dated openly. We roomed together on road trips. We were often interviewed together for articles. There was even a social media page called Austin-Caron Engagement Watch, where people tried to predict when we’d finally get engaged. It was kind of hilarious, actually, how many cameras zeroed in on our left hands whenever we were out in public.
And then, last season, behind closed doors and far out of anyone’s sight, things had begun to come unraveled.
Now I was in some sadistic version of Purgatory. I couldn’t escape the exhausting charade of happy boyfriends in front of cameras and everyone we know. I couldn’t make any headway on actually getting back to being happy boyfriends with Simon. I couldn’t risk my career by letting either of those plates stop spinning.
I was so fucking done… but I couldn’t stop.
My phone pinged again, and I muttered, “Fuck. Now what?”
Simon: Whatever. We can talk in the car tomorrow.
I closed my eyes and exhaled. That was always his solution. If one of us couldn’t make a chat, or if we were FaceTiming and arguing about something, his answer was always to finish it in the car the next day. Because nothing helped us keep our cover like arguing in the car on the way to practice or a game.
Before I could reply, a door opened at the end of the hall. Dog tags jingled and nails clicked on the floor as Dr. Green and Wyatt returned to the reception area.
As soon as she came around the corner, Lily caught sight of the cats, and her tail started wagging furiously. She did her play bow again, dropping onto her elbows as her butt wiggled in the air.
Moose wasn’t remotely interested, but Bear crouched down like he was stalking her, tail swishing as he too wiggled his butt. I leaned down and scratched his back. “Let’s maybe not attack the dog, yeah?”
He ignored me and tried to run at her, but hit the end of his leash, nearly yanking my arm out of the socket in the process. Lily was delighted, bouncing and yipping to egg him on.
Wyatt and I both laughed as we reeled in our playful critters. He told Lily to sit, which she immediately did, though she was clearly disappointed. I just picked up Bear and held him on my hip, because it wasn’t like he was going to listen.
Moose, of course, was still on the chair, eyeing all of us as if he did not have time for the antics of peasants.
Gesturing at Lily, I asked, “How’s she doing?”
Wyatt’s smile fell a little, and his brow creased as he reached down to pet her neck. “She’s got a little skin infection on her hip.” He grimaced. “Probably something she picked up outside.”
“It’s a very minor infection,” Dr. Green clarified, and she handed him a small plastic bag. “The ointment will help with the itching and redness. There’s also an oral antibiotic just to make sure it’s gone.”
Wyatt nodded, looking a little pale at the prospect.
“Is she hard to pill?” I asked. “Because I can help. I’ve got experience getting pills down that one.” I nodded toward Moose, who glared up at me as if to ask, “How dare you, human?”
Wyatt laughed thinly. “No, no, she’s easy to pill.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’m just not sure I can afford both.” He slid a card free as he asked, “How much are they?”
She smiled. “I’m including it with the exam fee.”
He blinked. “You—really?”
Dr. Green nodded. Then her expression shifted as well, and she glanced at Lily with worried eyes. “It’s important to keep her—and especially the infected area—as clean as possible until it clears up.”
The shame and embarrassment in Wyatt’s face were impossible to miss, not to mention the worry. “I’ll, uh… I’ll figure something out.”
“How long is she on the antibiotics?” I asked.
“Ten days,” Dr. Green replied. “And I’d like to follow up with her in a week to make sure she’s improving.” She hesitated, then added, “If that’s possible.”
Wyatt opened his mouth to speak, but I said, “We’ll make it happen.”
He turned to me, lips still apart and eyes wide.
“We’ll make it happen,” I repeated gently. “She’ll be okay.”
He looked absolutely bewildered.
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just went with, “I’m ready to roll whenever you are.” I gestured over my shoulder. “Her food is in the car.”
Wyatt blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let me, uh…” He looked around, then found her service dog vest where he’d left it on the counter. “Let me just get her dressed.”
Chapter 4
Wyatt
I’d known from the start that Anthony had more money than I did. After all, he wasn’t homeless. Anyone who had a landlord was doing a hell of a lot better than I was.
So I hadn’t really given much thought to Anthony’s economic status beyond being grateful he was willing to let me and Lily spend the night under his roof.
When I saw his silver SUV, however, it occurred to me that this man was… not struggling. I mean, it had been a while since I’d priced a car, but I was pretty sure the base price of an Audi Q7 was a lot more than I pulled in annually with my VA disability pittance. And now that I thought about it as I watched him clip Bear and Moose’s harnesses to the seat belts in the backseat, purebred Maine Coons weren’t exactly cats people gave away on Craigslist.
It gave me an uncomfortable feeling that was hard to define. I hated where I was in life, and being around a man who could drop a ton of money on expensive cars and luxury cats just made me feel even more conspicuous. I wasn’t stupid—I knew I didn’t look or smell great. I had the privilege of enough money to make use of laundromats sometimes, but there was only so much a person could do when they were outdoors almost 24/7. Especially since people like me had been pushed more and more into the grosser parts of town so we didn’t drive down property values by sleeping in the nicer parks or streets. The alleys and underpasses of downtown Seattle didn’t really bode well for keeping clean even when I still had a tent for shelter.
I’d been self-conscious enough about being in someone’s house and on their furniture. Now I was going to sit in his expensive car on his leather upholstery? And go to his undoubtedly nice and pristine house? Ugh. It was so weird to be grateful and embarrassed at the same time.
But in the two minutes we’d been outside the clinic, Lily had already started shivering, so I swallowed my pride, put my rucksack in the trunk, and joined Anthony in the front seats.
“Will she be okay up here?” Anthony gestured at Lily, who was sitting between my legs in front of the seat.
I glanced over my shoulder at the two cats, who were occupying the entire backseat. “It’s fine.” I petted Lily as she rested her head on my leg. “It’s just one ride.”
I didn’t like taking the chance, and back when I’d still had a car, I’d had a seat belt clip for her. Tonight, though, I was afraid—rationally or not—that if I pushed my luck and asked to stop and get a seat belt clip, I’d finally hit the end of Anthony’s patience and generosity. Right now, there was a heater blowing on Lily. She’d stopped shivering. The odds of us getting into an accident seemed relatively low compared to those of Anthony leaving us on the side of the road if I asked too much of him.
Also, Anthony’s cats were in the car, and he seemed to care immensely about his animals, so he wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks on this ride.
“It’s fine,” I said again.
He studied me uncertainly, but then shrugged and backed out of the parking space. We rode in silence for a block or so before he gestured up ahead. “If you’re hungry, we can swing in to one of those.”
I followed where he was indicating, and there were a few fast food signs glowing on either side of the road. My stomach growled again, same as it had when he’d mentioned food the first time. “I, uh… If it’s not too much trouble?” I reached for my wallet. “I can actually pay for it.”
He glanced at me. “You don’t have to. I was going to pick up something for myself, too.”
“Then I definitely want to pay.” I gestured with my wallet. “You’ve already gone above and beyond. Buying dinner is the least I can do.”
Anthony shrugged. “Your call.”
We settled on a burger chain, and he pulled into the drive-thru.
As soon as he rolled down the window, both cats started… well, not really meowing. More like chirping? Squeaking? Not the sounds I expected from cats that size, but okay. By the time we’d made it to the window, both were purring loudly. There was also some clicking I couldn’t quite identify until I looked, and I realized both cats were kneading on the seat; the sound I heard was their claws popping in and out of the upholstery. For a second I worried they were tearing up the leather interior, but then I realized there was a thick seat cover. It had gray and black cat hair all over it, and the edges looked like something had chewed on it.
I chuckled as I looked at Anthony. “Why do I get the feeling they know what a drive-thru is?”
The kind-of-sheepish smile was startlingly cute. So was the subtle blush. “They, um… They might be a little bit spoiled.”
“A little bit?”
The response to that was an unrepentant shrug.
I laughed, tousling Lily’s ears. “Eh, I can’t judge.” I almost mentioned how much I spoiled her, but… I really didn’t. Not anymore. I used what little money I had to make sure she had food and clean water, and I’d bought some blankets specifically to keep her comfortable at night. But the days of actually spoiling her had ended when we’d been kicked out of our last apartment.
I fucking hated myself for that.
Gazing down into her big brown eyes, I fought back a sudden rush of emotion.
We’ll get back on our feet, kiddo. And then you’re going to be the most spoiled dog in the world.
Anthony pulled up, and after we’d reached the window, he collected our food. Then he pulled into a parking space. As I dug into a burger—oh my fucking God, food—Anthony tore off a couple of pieces from his chicken sandwich and twisted around.
The purring intensified as the cats each took some chicken from him.
And because I wasn’t a monster, I had of course bought a small hamburger for Lily. No onions, no condiments—just bun and meat. Her tail thumped against the floormat as she ate.
Behind me, the cats starting squeaking and kneading again.
Anthony shot a judgy look over his shoulder. “You already had some! You got the first bites, for God’s sake!”
More squeaking. More kneading. More purring.
He eyed them, then gave an exasperated sigh and tore off a couple more pieces of chicken.
I tried not to choke on my burger as I laughed. “You really are wrapped around their little paws.”
He grunted. “There’s nothing little about these paws.”
“That’s not really a denial of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” He faced forward again, rolled his eyes, and finally got a bite of his own sandwich.
When I was about halfway through my burger, I slowed down a bit, and I turned to Anthony. “Seriously—thank you for all of this. You really didn’t have to help us.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He took a sip from his drink before putting it back in one of the cupholders between us. “It doesn’t make sense for me to have an empty guestroom while someone’s sleeping…” He gestured out the windshield.
I laughed bitterly. “You’re in the minority, thinking that way.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “I’ve got a neighbor who bitches constantly about how the homeless need to be ‘sent someplace else.’” Anthony rolled his eyes. “Dude’s literally got six bedrooms, three of which aren’t occupied, but he’s… ugh. I could rant about him all damn night.”
“He probably doesn’t like our aesthetic,” I muttered.
Anthony’s response was a humorless chuckle, and we continued eating.
