Page 40 of Forbidden Hockey
“I know it’s the last thing you’d want to do, but you always have a home with me—you know that, right?”
“I’ve never forgotten it, and I appreciate it,” I add. I should crash for the night in the room I have here after dinner and forget about the impromptu shift I have on my night off.
He sighs. “Okay, I’ll lay off for now. How’s the love life?”
I almost spit out my wine. “Hunter.How’s that laying off?”
Next thing I know, he’ll be marrying me off to the neighbor’s son or daughter.
“You haven’t dated anyone in years.”
“Hasn’t been anyone worthy of my time,” I begin, until I see the look on his face. I can’t bear another sigh of disappointment from him. “Until now. I recently started seeing someone interesting.”
Oh, god. The hope in his eyes. So that’s what it looks like. I’ve been such a letdown for him the past few years, I’d forgotten. “If you continue to see them, would you consider bringing them by? For dinner?”
My brother’s a big, burly guy with his head shaved to marine precision and tattoos galore, even though he’d never let me get one, the fucking hypocrite. Yet, here he is, hoping I’ll bring my boyfriend by for a family dinner. Makes my heart fucking squeeze.
For the record, I finally let the boys cajole me into getting a tattoo to memorialize winning the Calder Cup. I’m an adult now, figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I still got it on my hipbone where Hunter’s unlikely to ever see it.
That I can hide, I can’t bring my asshole not-boyfriend, because Hunter will attempt to murder said not-boyfriend. Huh, wonder who would win in a battle like that? Hunter and Trav are equal in size and, um, badassery, I guess? Trav was in a biker gang, but Hunter … he’s never told me in so many words, but I highly suspect he’s part of something at work. His business partners are burly Italian guys who he keeps me the fuck away from.
Anyway, I hope I never have to find out who would win that fight, but it’s an entertaining thought.
“Yeah, Hunt. If it works out—big if—I’ll bring him for dinner.”
He frowns. “Why’s it a big if? Is this because of our upbringing? Are you unable to love? Fuck, I knew I was setting a bad example.”
If anything, a power imbalance being my love language is his fault, not my inability to love anyone but Trav. His swearing like a roughened construction worker while I would get chewed out for it is a prime example. Is it fair? No. Do I like it? Yes. I feel cared for.
And fucking Travis knows it.
“Whoa, what’s that smile all about?” He’s beaming, a fresh new gleam about him. It’s so much better than Hunter spinning off about me, ready to ship me off to therapy again. “Were you thinking of him? You said him, right?”
I sigh. “It’s a him. I strictly like dick, Hunt.”
“Dirk,” he scolds.
My face heats. “Sorry. But, um, he’s older,” I say, distracting him from my slip-up with a little bit of information. It’s a test too. What’ll he be okay with?
Hunter winces.
“Not too much older,” I add.
“How much older?”
“Ten years,” I try.
Shit. He does not like that. He sets his fork down. “That’s kind of old, Dirk.”
So I guess twenty years is off the table. Yeah, Hunter’s never finding out about Trav. Aren’t Logan and Rhett fake boyfriends or something? Maybe I can bring a fake boyfriend for dinner some night.
“Sorry, kiddo. I need to meet him if you’re gonna keep dating him.” He resumes eating after making that announcement.
Telling Hunter Boulder that I’m a grown adult and I’m not looking for his permission on who to date isn’t something that flies around here. He can and will build a steel vault to lock me in. It’s no skin off my back to break up with my fictional boyfriend, but now that Hunter’s seen me smile about Trav the way I smile about Trav, I can’t do that without it looking suspicious.
Would Jack loan Mercy out for an afternoon? He’s ten years older, I think.
“I’ll talk to him,” I promise, my palms sweating. Fuck this is a disaster, but at least with those two conversations out of the way, the rest of the night is pleasant. He gets on my case about everything, and he can come across as overbearing, but it’s because protectiveness is his love language, thanks to Mom. He’s forever trying to make up for what she lacked. I can’t help but wanna give that to him. He put up with a lot of shit so I wouldn’t have to.
