Page 83 of Misconduct Zone

“We’re thanking you in advance for not fucking this up.” Dylon’s arm wraps around me, and I pull his chair closer.

Joanne steps in to coordinate interviews with the kids, and they opt for a private office.

Once they’re gone, the room erupts and we’re surrounded. There are choruses of “That was awesome!” and “I can’t believe you did that!” and “Holy shit.”

Tucked in bed, I ask, “Are you going to tell your family before it airs?”

Dylon picks his head up off my chest and rests his chin on his fist to look me in the eye. “They don’t deserve it, but I should say something.” He rolls over and grabs his cell phone.

I watch as he unblocks and opens his family group chat. He hasn’t read any of the recent messages and doesn’t bother scrolling up to see what he’s missed. There are trash-talking texts about his game and more. It’s a toxic cesspool of insults about his manhood because opponents threw him against the boards, as if anyone in his family could withstand a single hit.

Dylon holds out the phone, asking me for approval of what he’s typed. I read it aloud to hear it for myself. “You’re dead to me if you say one more disparaging thing about my boyfriend.”

“Shit. They probably don’t know what disparaging means.” He erases it and retypes, reading it for my benefit. “‘You’re dead to me if you insult my boyfriend again.’ That’s better. I think it gets the point across. I could say lover, but no need to give anyone a heart attack.” He chuckles.

“I cannot be the reason you lose your family.” He could have regrets later.

“Sugar.” He rolls the R, and the term of endearment fills me up. “They are happy to take my money but don’t support the sacrifices I’ve made to play the game. The guilt my mother lays on me for missing holidays as if I wasn’t working and she couldn’t see me playing on the damn TV. She acted like I refused to go home. I played into the guilt because I didn’t want to go home and see them. I’m relieved I have a job that prevents me from sitting around for family dinners. They act like they could play better if they had the chance. Like I randomly won the lottery and don’t work my ass off to be the best. I’m not losing them because of you. This is my way of thanking you.” The air chills my skin as he returns his phone to the nightstand after sending the message and turning it on silent. I chase his body heat.

“How about you thank me now?” I blanket his back and tug him closer.

“You definitely deserve a special thanks for kissing me on TV.” He hooks his leg over mine, and a second later, I’m flat on my back as he looms over me. “You’re at my mercy now.”

“Really?” I ask, extremely turned on. “What do you plan to do to me?”

He sits back on my thighs with his hand on my chest. “Maybe I’ll tie you up.”

A smile takes over my face. “If that makes you happy.”

His brow furrows. “I’m thanking you. What do you want?”

Seeing him happy and feeling settled after all he’s been through this year brings me happiness, but I doubt he will accept that answer. “I want to be at your mercy however you see fit. Take me apart until I beg you for more.”

“Should I fuck you again?” His frown doesn’t smooth out.

“Hey.” I yank him forward. “Why are you uncertain? I love everything you do. I love you.”

His exhale washes over my face. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

There are certain cultural differences I’ve noticed over the years, and one is that when someone says they’re fine, they are most definitely not fine. But calling him out won’t help so I clamp my fingers around his neck and hold him still while I kiss him slowly.

Dylon collapses his weight on me, tightening the pressure on his throat. His pulse hammers against my thumb, but I don’t let up or stop my tongue from invading his mouth.

“It’s more than words,” I assure him. “Saying I love you is more than that. Love is a verb, and I will take every action you need to feel it in your bones. In your soul. So that when we die, our love lives on.” I stroke his pulse, wishing I could destroy every person who made him doubt love.

We stare at each other as he digests what I’ve said. I cannot be any clearer. In an interview that will be picked up by every news organization, hockey fan, gossip site, and more because I kissed him, I said he is the most important person in my life.

“I’m being stupid.” He tilts his head to kiss me, but I hold him back.

“It is not stupid. When you need something, please ask for it. In the past, you probably asked for things you never received, but I am going to change that. Iwant to give you everything, including the things you think are stupid.” I pinch his side to lighten my heavy words. Dylon can only stay serious for so long before it makes him twitchy.

“It feels like a cosmic joke that we love each other, and now the entire world will know, so I’m,” he winces, “waiting for it to blow up in my face.”

“Min kärlek.” My heart breaks for him. “I can’t lie to you. Our interview could blow up in a bad way.” I fully embrace him. “But… but if I have to choose between you and hockey, I choose you. If I have to choose between sweets and you, I choose you.”

“Omigod. You did not just tell me you’d give up sweets for me. Next to hockey, it’s most of your personality.” His eyes go soft, and his body melts into mine like liquid caramel.

“I could do it for you,” I say seriously.

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