Page 42 of Misconduct Zone

Tonight was an actual date. Lars ordered my dinner for me, and that was sexy as fuck. My dick loved it, getting hard and fighting to escape my pants. I flirted shamelessly until he was so red I took pity and talked hockey. We shared a dessert, and no one suspected we’re a couple.

Watching Lars’s profile and the city lights play off his face, I’m struck by how much he means to me. We started as friends, and then he saved me, and now he’s vital to my life.

“I’m a hypocrite.” I peer out the window so it’s easier to explain what’s inside me. In my peripheral vision, he glances at me several times, but the traffic is dense and he can’t take his eyes off the road. That’s probably better. “I had the urge to tell those fuckers you’re my boyfriend.”

Lars sucks in a breath but remains silent.

“It sucks putting on the friend act in public. I made a wild statement to the press to hide myself. To lie. I’d love it if everyone knew we were together. It seems wrong that our team thinks we’re just friends.” My heart beats triple time. A biologist monitoring my heartbeat would mistake it for a rabbit’s.

“If you had to choose, what would you call me?” I hear amusement beneath the seriousness in his voice. He’s always so careful and calculating, and I’m dying for him to word-vomit on me so I know what’s really goingon in his head.

“Boyfriend seems juvenile, and partner makes it sound like we’ve made a lifelong commitment and this is new.” Lars makes a strangled noise, but I can’t look at him yet. I’m full steam ahead and he’s reluctant.

Instead, I stare at his bruised knuckles. He got in another fight because someone tripped Ace. He’s our one-man wrecking machine, and he’s not afraid to bend every rule to make guys regret their hits on us.

“Did you know I asked Liska why he decided to come out?” I don’t wait for an answer and press on. “At the time, I honestly thought he was fucking crazy. I half expected him to retire while he was gone over the summer. He told me he was dead set against ever coming out while playing and told Trevor that right from the start. You know how invasive the paparazzi were over my injury, and then when I went to rehab, we used spy-level tactics to sneak me into the facility without getting caught.” Patrik was the first openly gay NHL player in the league, and it caused a stir. Now a few more have come out so it’s not as shocking.

“Inviting that type of speculation into my life on purpose seems insane. And although the team and most of the fans have been accepting, there’s an undercurrent of questions. We’re winning, but what happens when we don’t? It doesn’t take a genius to know that some people will blame Liska’s relationship with Trevor. They do it to famous women all the time, and this brings out the bigots on top of the haters.” I exhale in a whoosh, relieved he’s letting me talk without interruption.

“You know how depressed I was, and leaving the apartment for anything other than rehab was a monumental chore. Obviously, my poor choices were to blame, but they dissected my life and strangers speaking as if we had a personal relationship or who had spoken to my doctors made it so much worse. I couldn’t fathom being Liska and asking for people to dumpster-dive into my life.”

“What did he say?” Lars places his open palm in my lap, and I lace our fingers together.

“He said he loves Trevor more than anything, more than hockey or his career, and he couldn’t hide it for one more minute. That the lying tore him apart anddrove a wedge between him and Trevor.” My thumb lightly strokes a bruise on his knuckle.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I will not ask you to offer yourself to the press for more scrutiny.” He squeezes my hand.

“But now I understand why he would do it. How did our society become so backward that if we held hands at dinner, it would inspire hate? Some straight couples have vanilla sex lives and some are into BDSM or kink. No one asks or insinuates that their sex life is wrong or a sin. Patrik thinks he’s only got a couple more years left in him. As soon as he retires, people will question his toughness because he’s gay. Which he’s not, he’s bi. It’s all so fucked up.”

“My number one priority is you and your mental health and sobriety. We can figure everything else out.”

“That’s not what I want.” Lars stiffens at my words. “You shouldn’t have to be extra careful because I have addiction issues. I need to be your equal partner, not your burden.” When I try to unclasp our hands, he grips me tighter.

“Those things are all pieces we have to decide, along with other important issues. Whatever we do has to work for both of us, and we can agree that we want to keep playing hockey.” His eyes cut from the road to mine for confirmation. “Who we tell and when will be huge decisions. Mr. Dimon has done an incredible job of creating a safe environment for marginalized communities, but that doesn’t mean he’ll accept a player relationship for the same reason companies have fraternization rules. It’s a way to separate personal and work lives. One of us could be traded.” He’s deadly serious and absolutely correct.

I sigh. “Yeah, they could lump that into the misconduct clause and trade one or both of us.” They use general terms that can apply to a variety of indiscretions.

“We need to figure out if it’s safe for us to disclose our relationship and keep our jobs. I cannot be away from you all season.” His eyes are soft, and my heart misses a beat. “You are everything I want, and if I don’t consider the ramifications of going public on your mental health or sobriety, then I’m ajävla skitstöveland I don’t deserve you.” He’s adamant and although I don’t understand Swedish, I’m learning swear words, and I’m pretty sure it meanssomething like fucking asshole. His eyes smolder, burning me like a claim. I have no doubt he wants me, but his concern holds him back.

I take my first deep breath since getting in the car. Lars pulls into the underground garage and parks. He’s right. I’m getting ahead of myself. I should exercise some caution instead of jumping in without looking. My boyfriend would never do that, and I love that about him.

“Now get your ass in my bed so I can show you how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, Sugar,” I say, and he growls. It’s possibly my favorite sound right behind the one he makes when he comes.

Chapter 23

Lars

Ace fires a pass five feet ahead of me, and it’s a race with the Montreal defender, but he knows I’m fast. The defender on Dylon has been marking him all night. The trash talk has gotten personal. They’re trying to rattle us, and it’s working to some degree. I see my opening, but the goalie gets his glove on it in a truly acrobatic feat. If he hadn’t blocked my shot, I would be impressed.

Dylon strips the puck before we cross center ice and sends it to Ace for a shot to the top corner. A second later, the red light glows, infuriating the crowd. We skate together for a team hug to celebrate the goal.

“Listen to those boos. Let’s hear them all night.” Dylon grins.

“Get ’em, Lucky.” Our defender slaps his helmet.

Montreal’s fucking defender knocks Dylon into the boards and throws his body weight at my man’s shoulder. He’s recovered but any area that has a previous injury is vulnerable and I see red.

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