Interference, p.33
Interference, page 33
“I will. But I can pretty much guarantee she’ll be thrilled.” She would be, too. No matter how overwhelmed she was, fawning all over visitors was one of her favorite things in the world. She’d always been a social butterfly, but she’d had to become somewhat of a shut-in ever since Dad got sick, which hadn’t been good for her. And that made me feel guiltier for not coming to visit more. I could’ve helped with Dad, but also given her something else to focus on. Maybe, in some small way, bringing a new guest for Christmas would lift her spirits a bit. I met Anthony’s gaze again. “What, um… What about Moose and Bear? I think they’ve gotten used to having someone here all the time.”
Anthony laughed. “I’ve got a friend who’ll come in and check on them. She’ll take them for walks, too, if the weather is nice. I guarantee they’ll put me on a monster guilt trip when I get back, but they’ll be fine.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like them.” Sobering, I quietly asked, “So… you’d really be game to come meet my family? Spend the holidays with us?” Hope swelled in my chest, both at the prospect of seeing my family and of introducing them to Anthony.
His smile made my heart flutter. “I’d love to.”
I leaned across the cushions and kissed him softly.
And for the first time in a long time, I had something to look forward to.
Chapter 33
Anthony
I felt a lot better about things with Wyatt after we talked it through. There was no way in hell I was throwing him to the wolves if we decided we didn’t want to be together. Our situation was uniquely complex, but we were both rational adults. Wyatt wasn’t going to take advantage of me helping him. I wasn’t going to take advantage of him having less power in the situation. We cared about each other as much as we were into each other, and I fully believed we could navigate this without losing sight of that.
Of course, I’d thought a lot of those things about Simon, too, and that had blown up in my face. Then again, in retrospect, there had been a power imbalance between us, especially in the beginning, and I realized now that Simon had taken advantage of it.
Between his salary and his endorsements, he made a lot more money than I did. While I’d been perfectly happy with a more modest house in the suburbs, he’d been the one to decide we should drop five million on a house in Medina. That amount had been staggering for me. But nothing says “first world problems” like “I only make three and a half million annually,” so he’d steamrolled over my concerns, and now here we were. We’d dropped a substantial down payment on the place, and the mortgage was manageable with one or both of our salaries, but he’d never missed an opportunity to remind me how much more he’d contributed than I had.
Now that he’d moved out, he’d decided it was unfair for him to pay for two places, so he only paid for the one he was living in. Fine. I could handle the mortgage. It wasn’t like I was a huge spender anyway, and the payments weren’t breaking the bank. But I hadn’t come from money. My parents had driven themselves into debt to help me chase my hockey dream, so even now that I had a shitload of money, frugality was a hard habit to break, at least when it came to spending money on myself. I’d bought my parents a house and made sure they were living the good life, and I spared no expense if a friend needed something. But I still winced at the cost of my suits or putting gas in one of my cars.
Simon knew that. At first, he’d acted like it was endearing. He’d said he liked that I was careful with money and didn’t spend like crazy.
But looking back now, I had to wonder if there was more to that.
At the time, I just hadn’t wanted to fight about his expensive tastes or the price of the house. I’d been trying to keep the peace and find a way back to solid ground with him. Money had never been a hill I wanted to die on when we still had so many other hills left to fight over.
In hindsight, though, there was something insidious about the pattern of Simon and money. Pressuring me into a mortgage that he knew would make me anxious. Buying me a bright red Ferrari for my birthday, knowing the insurance would be expensive and I would rarely drive it for fear of damaging it or driving up those rates. Encouraging me to use his tailor for my bespoke suits instead of the way more reasonable one whose work was just as good.
More than once, when I’d been at my breaking point and brought up the possibility of splitting up, he’d run me through a tally of all the financial things that would be purely my obligation going forward. He’d remind me that we’d have to sell the house, but he’d frame it as something we needed to do because I couldn’t afford it on my own. I could afford it on my own, but he knew his way under my skin.
“You’ve only got two years left on your contract,” he’d ominously reminded me a few times. “If they don’t extend you, where are you going to find the money to pay for this place on your own?”
“You don’t think they’ll extend me?”
“Maybe they will. But look at your stats. There’s half a dozen prospects they can bring up who can replace you, and without your cap hit, they can easily grab a defenseman from somewhere else in the League. Do you really want to be on the hook for this place and a new one if you get traded?”
That didn’t make me want to stay with him, per se, but it did make me back down because I’d suddenly be worried about my professional future instead of my relationship. The next thing I knew, we’d be back to fighting about something else, he’d be threatening to leave, and I’d be bending over backwards to get him to stay.
Christ. That was exhausting just to think about. Why the fuck had I put up with it for so damn long?
Well, that was an easy enough answer…
“I don’t want to see you get traded or waived because we can’t work out a stupid argument,” he’d said, voice full of concern. “We can get through this, Anthony. We’ll be fine. And our careers won’t suffer. Especially yours.”
What a dick.
More and more, I understood that my relationship with Simon was a big part of why I was so concerned about the power imbalance with Wyatt. I was terrified of making him feel the way Simon had made me feel: trapped and powerless.
Clearing the air with Wyatt left me a lot less anxious about things. Knowing he had family and a support network helped, too; he didn’t want to be a burden to them while his father was sick, but at least he had people. If we split up, I’d make sure he had what he needed to get to Portland and stay on his feet, and he’d be close to people who loved him and cared about him.
Now that we had all that out of the way… holy shit, being with Wyatt was amazing. In the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, we fell into a perfect groove. We watched hockey together. We cooked together. We even started working out together in my home gym on those days when it was too shitty out to take the animals for a long walk.
I’d let him borrow an old laptop so he could apply for jobs, and that also meant we could Skype or Zoom while I was on the road. Or, well, we tried to, anyway; rooming with Simon made that a challenge, but we snagged every chance we could. When Simon was still in the room, we’d instant message or email back and forth.
I loved coming home to my cats excitedly greeting me, but I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed coming home to a person who was happy to see me too. Maybe it was just the honeymoon phase, but there was something to be said for walking in the door and seeing Wyatt’s eyes light up instead of giving me a cursory “oh, it’s you” glance.
The first time Wyatt had a night terror while we were in the same bed, he’d been mortified.
“I’m so sorry,” he’d whispered, still shaking as I held him against me. “I wish I could tell you this doesn’t happen often, but…”
“It’s nothing to be sorry about.” I’d held him closer and kissed the top of his head. “It’s trauma. Not a character flaw.”
He’d sighed heavily and hadn’t said a word. I could read between the lines. He understood it was beyond his control, but he was afraid it would scare me away, or that I’d get tired of it. The next morning, when I’d been bleary-eyed and sucking down coffee, his worry and regret had been written all over his face.
“Wyatt.” I’d wrapped my arms around him and kissed him softly. “I’d much rather lose that sleep than have you going through that alone.”
“I’m not alone.” He’d gestured at Lily, who was sitting beside him.
I’d smiled down at Lily before kissing Wyatt again. “I’m glad you have her. But you have both of us now. I’m not going anywhere because you have nightmares.”
I meant it, too. In fact, I worried about him whenever I was on the road now. He did, however, have Lily, and I reminded myself that she was great about waking him up and cuddling with him until the shaking stopped.
With or without his nightmares, I wouldn’t have traded sleeping next to him for the world. I didn’t know what I felt for him yet. Where this was going. How much staying power it had.
But day after day, night after night, I was happily drawn to him. I couldn’t get enough of the sex. Of the closeness. Of the easy conversations and comfortable vibe.
It was way too soon to call this thing love.
But day after day, night after night…
I fell just a little harder for Wyatt.
Chapter 34
Wyatt
December flew by, and before I knew it, Anthony was off for Christmas. Which meant the kitties had a babysitter and we were off to Oregon to see my family.
The drive to Portland wasn’t bad. It was about three hours—closer to four in traffic—but it was fairly scenic in places, especially in that long stretch between Olympia and the state line.
Riding beside Anthony in his Land Rover definitely wasn’t a chore. He had on a pair of wraparound sunglasses, and he was relaxed in the driver seat even when traffic slowed to a grind. For as hot-tempered as he could be on the ice, he was chill as could be on the road, sipping a giant coffee and shooting the shit with me while we crawled down I-5.
As we inched through gridlock in Tacoma, he gestured over his shoulder. “Let me know if she needs to stop. There are some rest areas after we get past Olympia, but I can find a place if she needs it.”
“She’ll be fine.” I glanced back at Lily, who was lying across the backseat, relaxed but alert. “Must be nice having a ton of space back there, huh, baby?”
Her tail thumped on the seat.
Anthony laughed. “Yeah, it probably gets a little crowded when she’s sharing it with the boys.”
“Only because you have two enormous cats.”
“Hey, she’s not exactly a toy breed either.”
“No, but she’s maybe slightly bigger than an average dog.” I picked up my own coffee from the cupholder. “Your cats are large.”
“Pfft. Fake news.”
I choked on my coffee. He just snickered. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off, then took another sip. “And the cats—they’ll really be okay alone in the house?”
“Oh yeah.” He waved a hand. “They’re cats.”
“Yeah, but they obviously like having someone there.”
“They do. They’re used to being on their own from when Simon and I were traveling, though, and this is a fairly short trip.”
There was that. The League’s schedule was brutal, so we couldn’t stay in Portland very long. He’d played a game last night, and he had to be back for practice two days after Christmas. He’d offered several times to get me a train ticket and pick me up at the station if I wanted to stick around for a few more days, but I’d declined. I didn’t need him spending more money on me, and anyway, my mom had her hands full enough without me overstaying my welcome. As it was, we were staying in a hotel just so we wouldn’t be in the way.
Thinking about all that brought my spirits down a little. I took a deep breath. “Listen, uh… Fair warning? I don’t know how sick my dad has been recently. He’s had some stretches where he’s okay, and others where he’s…” I squirmed in my seat. “Not okay. And it’s kind of hard to see, you know?”
Anthony nodded as I spoke. “That’s gotta be rough for you.”
“It is.” I thumbed the lid on my coffee cup. “I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever ready for that.” He glanced at me, and even with his sunglasses on, the softness in his expression came through. “I’ll be there, though.” From the creases in his forehead, I wondered if he was scrambling for the right thing to say. Something reassuring that wasn’t a platitude or a cliché. Because really, who the hell knew what to say in situations like this? I sure as hell didn’t.
I reached across our coffees and covered his hand with mine. “I appreciate it. And I mean, it is Christmas. So I don’t think it’ll be all doom and gloom.”
The tension in his expression eased. “I’m sure it won’t be.”
I hoped it wouldn’t. My family was usually pretty upbeat, especially around the holidays, and I didn’t imagine even my dad’s illness would kill that completely. Not when this might very well be Dad’s last—
I cleared my throat. “So, uh, will it be weird if I introduce you as my boyfriend?”
The question seemed to catch Anthony a little off-guard. He tensed slightly, glancing at me. “Uh. I mean, I’m not sure what else you’d tell them. I’m assuming not ‘booty call’ or ‘fuck buddy.’”
I snorted, grateful for the levity. “No. Definitely not.”
He chuckled, but then he sobered, shifting in his seat. “We, um…” He swallowed. “All joking aside, do you think… Do you think ‘boyfriend’ is accurate?”
I studied him. Something about the way he said it made me think he was hoping I’d say yes. “I… Well, it does fit?”
Anthony glanced at me, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly. “Yeah?”
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged, grinning myself. “We’re not just screwing, you know?” I had a split second to panic, thinking I’d read way too far into everything.
But that smile… oh my God.
He reached across the console and laced our fingers together. “No, we’re not just screwing. We can figure out all the details as we go, but… ‘boyfriends’ works.”
I almost laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I was just so blown away that this was real. This man who’d scraped me up off the street and was now taking me to Oregon to see my parents thought this thing between us actually had some legs. Holy shit.
“I agree,” was all I said, and his smile made my heart flutter.
We drove in comfortable silence for a mile or so. Then he glanced across the console at me. “So does your family have any weird Christmas traditions I should know about?”
I chuckled. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “One of my teammates said his grandma gives everyone—and I mean everyone—underwear on Christmas.”
I burst out laughing, which felt fantastic. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” Anthony chuckled. “I don’t know what the deal was, but my teammate said the first year he brought his wife home, she was like…” He made an exaggeratedly confused face.
“Oh, man. I can’t decide if that would be super awkward or hilarious.”
“Well, for his teammates, it was fucking hilarious.” He shrugged. “The wife? Eh, you’d have to ask her.”
“Wow. Okay, I can promise my family doesn’t have any secret traditions involving undergarments.”
“Good, good.” He glanced at me again, one eyebrow up. “So what traditions do you have?”
“Hmm.” I quirked my lips and patted his hand, which was still clasping mine. “They might be more fun if they’re a surprise.”
“Wyatt…”
“I’m just saying.” I put up my free hand. “The whole point of weird traditions is to spring them on new people and see how they react. If I spoil them, then…”
“Oh, God,” he groaned, shaking his head. “I’m so fucked.”
“Well, yes. You will be. But that’s you and me at the hotel, so don’t change the subject.”
Anthony actually shivered. Squirming in the driver seat, he glanced at me. “Oh yeah? So we’re going to make full use of the room’s amenities?”
“Are you kidding?” I squeezed his hand before letting go and reaching for my coffee. “I’m staying in a nice hotel with a hot guy. You better believe we’re using those amenities.”
He fidgeted again. “Goddammit. Are we there yet?”
“What? Are you getting impatient already?”
“What do you think?”
“Okay. Fair.” I exhaled. “Damn it, now I’m impatient, too. Fuck.”
We exchanged theatrically pained glances.
And yeah, seriously—were we there yet?
In retrospect, spending an hour in our hotel room before we headed to my parents’ house was a damned good idea. After three solid hours of winding each other up on the road, we’d both been too keyed up for polite society, and it had taken two orgasms apiece to take care of that.
Now that we were dressed and driving over to my folks’ place, I was glad we’d taken a little time to ourselves. I was wound up, both with excitement and nerves, and I would’ve been an absolute wreck if I hadn’t blown off some steam with Anthony. I wouldn’t call myself anything close to calm, but I was a hell of a lot better than I would’ve been otherwise.
And at a little past five, with my heart in my throat, I gestured up ahead of us. “That’s the driveway. On the left.”
Anthony craned his neck as he eased off the gas. “That one? With the black mailbox?”
“Yeah. You should be able to park in front of the garage.”
He nodded and pulled into my parents’ driveway. As expected, there was room in front of the closed garage, and he eased to a stop. After he’d shut off the engine, he turned to me. “You ready?”
I looked up at the house and swallowed hard, both excitement and dread twisting around each other in my stomach. I wanted to be here. I’d ached to see my parents for a long, long time, especially knowing that time was running out. But that ticking clock didn’t exist in a vacuum, and my mom didn’t like worrying me, so I had no idea how my dad was really doing. What we were walking into.
