Page 4 of Power Forward

I wanted to know everything about him, but my questions would remain unanswered. Because the moment he noticed I was watchinghimand not the ceremony, the tension returned to the broad line of his shoulders, and his jaw snapped shut so fast I heard his teeth audibly click.

It’s kinda fucked-up to think his scowl is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen in a long time, but I don’t blame him for feeling this way toward me.

I deserve it.

This is only the second time I’ve seen him in almost nine years, and I don’t really know what I was expecting to happen when we saw each other again. I’m not delusional enough to think he was going to greet me with a ‘hi, it’s been so long, I’ve missed you’ hug. But regardless of the time that’s passed between us, I would be lying if I didn’t admit the guy still makes me weak in my already very weak knees.

Jackson Wilde has always been the one who got away. The one who was the reason why I could never completely hand my heart over to my ex-wife, Zara.

It was because he still owned it. Even now. Almost fourteen years later, he still has a tight hold on me.

And I have no idea what to do with that.

“Alex, do you take Blaine to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant asks, finally pulling my attention away from the man next to me.

Alex flashes a wide smile and nods. “I do.”

When she turns to Blaine, his chin wobbles. He presses his lips together like he’s trying to keep a lid on his emotions. “Blaine, do you take Alex to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Blaine’s eagerly nodding his head before she’s finished speaking, causing a ripple of laughter among the guests. “I do. I really fucking do.”

Her mouth twitches at his slip of the tongue, but she manages to stop herself from laughing. She looks between them with a fond look on her face. “By the love that has brought you here today and by the vows you have pledged, it is my great honor from the state of California to now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss one another.”

Blaine grabs Alex’s face with both hands and slams his mouth over his husband’s. We all stand up, clapping and cheering in applause. Some of his teammates are hollering like hooligans.

Hockey players, you really can’t take them anywhere.

Alex cradles Blaine’s face, swiping his thumbs under his eyes to wipe away his husband’s tears as they laugh into the kiss. The love they share is so palpable and pure. I could sense it the very first time I met Alex that they had a special kind of love, and it has only grown over time.

I had that once. That intense kind of love where you are everything to each other. The ability to communicate with a simple gaze. A deep-seated need to be together constantly. To have a level of intimacy that goes beyond just sex.

Twin flames, some might say.

Now, he can barely look at you,that small voice in my head reminds me.

I don’t have many regrets in life. I like to think I’ve been pretty fortunate and made the most of the opportunities when they presented themselves, but there is one thing I regret. One thing that I’ve had to keep locked up and buried deep because our relationship during those three years was private. So private even our teammates didn’t know.

My one regret was hurting him, and it’s haunted me ever since.

I swallow down the thick knot that’s crawled up into my throat and slip the mask back on, smiling as the happy couple heads down the aisle and into the villa. We follow, making our way inside to where the cocktail hour is being held while they convert the courtyard for the dinner and evening reception.

“Who woulda thought, eh?” Peyton says, draping his arm around my shoulder. “Blaine Olsen,married. Gag me. I’m thinking about setting up the divorced hockey players association. There’s so many happy couples around me, and it makes me kinda nauseous. What do you think, eh? You in?”

I choke out a laugh. “Jon, you haven’t been divorced for a year yet. You should be out there, reaping up the rewards of being the next potential captain of the Chicago Thunder.”

“Dude! Shut your mouth! Don’t jinx me like that!” he hisses, waving his hands between us like he can bat away the comment from the air.

I grin. Now I’m on the other side of it, it’s fun to joke about hockey players and their superstitions. But I’m not kidding. He’s in contention to be the next captain of the Chicago Thunder now Ethan Parkes hung up his skates at the end of the season.

He leans closer, his hulking frame casting a shadow over me. He wiggles his brows playfully and lowers his voice. “The ladies are gonna love me even more if I get the C, am I right?”

Jonathan Peyton is like an overgrown frat bro. He’s in his early thirties and is a big puppy dog of a guy. He has the All-Canadian good looks down to a T. Blond hair, blue eyes, athletic build, and over six feet. He has a heart of gold, if you ignore the fact he cheated on his ex-wife every time he was on the road. They tried couples counseling, but ultimately, they decided it was best to call it quits. Sometimes people are not made to be monogamous.

But Peyton and I go way back. We played one season together in Boston after he was traded from New York, but then he went on to sign with the Thunder during the off-season. It was after Jackson was traded to Los Angeles, and Peyton became the unexpected friend I didn’t know I needed. He helped me keep my mind busy while Jackson was tearing it up on the West Coast, being my wingman in bars and partying it up in whatever city we were in.

Not that I ever told him the real reason why I was drinking, dabbling in drugs, and fucking my way through NorthAmerica, but we’ve remained good friends despite our short playing time together.

Taking a step back, I run my gaze over him from his head to his feet, then let out an unenthusiastic noise. “Eh, maybe.”

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