Page 13 of Forbidden Hockey
Hastily, I nod and stuff my tray with glasses, unwilling to acknowledge my thoughts. It’s too fucking painful.
“I never asked, how long were you two together?” he says.
For that, he gets an eye roll. “I know I told you we weren’t together.” Lifting my head, I meet his gaze. The man has guilt, a lot of guilt about not being a good father, and it’s always on his face. I hate looking at it. Dash was told over and over that his dad sucked. Travis made attempts to show Dash who he really was, but because Travis is a rough-around-the-edges guy, Dash only saw those parts of him, and it gave credence to the things Dash heard about Travis. It’s easy to make Travis look bad. He’s been to prison. He’s done some questionable shit. You’ve got to get to know him before you know how good he is.
The man saves tired honeybees. If you really wanna see something weird, watch an ex-biker gang member feed sugar water to a honeybee. Just don’t ever fucking swat at them.
“Not even for a little bit?”
“Okay, fine. We kissed one time, but that’s it. It was like kissing my brother. It was so gross, um, no offense to your son.”
Travis is always tanned. Always. Despite being busy at the restaurant, he finds time to be outside. But even with the sun’s bite, it hasn’t damaged his skin. He’s not thaaaaat much older than I am. I’m eighteen. He had Dash when he was twenty. He’s still in his thirties…
“No offense taken. I came over here to tell you that we’re having a bit of a staff party tonight for one of the gals who’s leaving. Think your brother would let you stay for a bit?”
No, I don’t think he would.
“I can tell by your face that’s a no. I think it would be nice for you to stay, though. Mind if I talk to him?”
“I don’t mind. He just worries I’ll?—”
“Hang around with kids on the wrong side of the tracks? I get that. But he’s holding on a bit too tight. You’re a good kid, Dirk.”
Kid.Why does that rankle me so much?
Travis calls Hunter, who reluctantly agrees, but then I get a call.
“Didn’t want to ask me yourself?” he says.
“No. I would have, but Travis offered, and I thought you’d feel better knowing there was a trustworthy adult here.”
“Feel better knowing the ex-con’s watching over you? Not so much, Dirk, but Travis is right. You’ll be nineteen before I know it—what’ll I do then? Lock you away?”
“Um, you wouldn’t, would you?” Hunter’s got the know-how to build a cement prison, and the access to do it.
“Don’t give me a reason.” Fuck, I hope he’s kidding. My brother’s scary sometimes. “Have fun tonight. Don’t drink too much. I’ll pick you up.”
“I can drink, too? Who are you?”
“Your super cool older brother.”
“Is that a real answer?”
“See you at eleven, Dirk.”
I do pound a few beers, but damn Hunter for teaching me how to be responsible and making me crave his approval. I slow it down, hoping that if I can show him that I can be trusted, I can come to more parties like this.
Point is, maybe it’s the beer that’s making me feel how I’m feeling, but when the hot blonde lady leans her tits Trav’s way, a weird jolt runs through me. It feels oddly like betrayal, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. I force myself to shrug it off and refuse to look in their direction. Whoever Travis takes to bed tonight is none of my fucking business. One of the Alderchuck brothers, Casey, sits next to me.
“You look sick to your stomach, man.”
“Too much to drink,” I say. I’m not spilling my weird-ass feelings to this guy.
“Nah. No such thing. How about a game of pool?”
Damn my periphery for catching a whip of blonde and my ears for hearing her musical laugh.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll spring for the beers.”
