Page 8 of Friendzone Hockey
“If you think it’ll help,” Travis says.
“I know you don’t want him down here, but I think he should be.”
“He’s not ready.”
“He is,” Dirk insists.
I can’t believe this guy. Arguing with Travis. Dirk’s a year younger than I am. He’s a busser. But there were circumstances to Dirk starting here that I don’t know about.
Dirk heads to the back, presumably to go up to the apartment. That leaves us down a busser, and we’ll have to bus some of our own tables. Casey will be thrilled.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” Travis says.
“You don’t owe me a thing.”
He sighs. “Maybe I want to say it out loud, if you’re willing to bend an ear?”
I swirl a bottle of scotch. “Another?”
“Yeah, maybe I will. Over ice this time.”
I pour scotch over ice and wait until he takes a sip.
“Dash went missing after his mom died. He was taken by his mom’s ex-boyfriend.” Travis downs the rest of the scotch, holding his glass out for another. “I don’t know what happened during that time. He won’t tell anyone—except for the police.There’s that at least. I didn’t get him back all that long ago. He’s been staying in the apartment with me. I guess—in a way—I’ve been keeping him prisoner there. That’s what he’d say anyway.”
Did I almost hit on someone who had something terrible happen to them? Fuck. To be fair, he didn’t look like anything had just happened to him, but still. I think I’m gonna be sick. I pour myself an ounce of scotch. There’s no drinking on the job, generally, but I don’t think Travis will mind one given the circumstances. Besides, every shift we have a “safety meeting” in the back, which is code for “end of the night shots” anyway. Trust me, in this industry, we need it.
“I just, fuck. It was the scariest thing of my life, Stacey. Not knowing where he was, if he was okay, if he was alive. My little … little boy.” He holds his glass out. I fill it. “He plays hockey, you know. He’s real good, too. He’s got a shot if I can get him to … fuck.”
He slams his fist on the counter, jostling his glass.
Wow. I knew something was going on as soon as Dirk showed up. I assumed that Travis was helping Dirk with something or the other way around. Looks like they were helping each other.
“I know what it’s like to watch someone you love suffer,” I say quietly. “And not be able to do a thing about it.” My fingers curl into my palms.
Travis looks up from his hands, elbows resting on the bar top. A lot’s playing out on his face. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to put this on you.”
“You’re not.”
“Dirk’s been helpful, and his older brother Hunter.”
“And you have me, Travis,” I promise. I put to rest any ideas of asking Dash out. That’s out of the question. “Want me to train him on barback?” I work bar most often. If he’s barback, he’ll be close to me, and I can watch him.
“Thanks, Stacey. Maybe. I’ll see how things pan out after Dirk talks to him. Dash hates me. If he had anywhere else to go, he would. But he doesn’t.”
He starts two days after that. Remembering that he’s been through some kind of hell keeps my thoughts from wandering where they can’t. I don’t know what he’s been through, and I don’t know if I wanna to know. I don’t know if it’s safe for me to know because I’d be inclined to hunt down the predator. Dash sets off all my primal instincts. Don’t know why that is, either, but it’s a thing now. I barely know the guy, but if anyone fucks with him, they fuck with me. If anyone hurts him, I’ll rip them apart.
But if I didn’t know something grave had happened to him, I’d never guess. Dash doesn’t let on a single thing. He follows my directions to the letter and he’s physically strong, so he can do a lot without tiring himself. When he’s around me, he’s all smiles and shy glances. Detecting any crack in his foundation won’t be done from a distance. The only signs something’s up come from Dirk and Travis.
“They’re like helicopter parents,” Casey says under his breath as he collects his drinks from the bar top and places them on his tray. “I asked Dash to take out the garbage and Dirk said he was going with him. I asked Dash if he wanted to go next door to the pool hall after work, and Travis told me he was busy before Dash could get a word out.”
I scowl at my brother while I shake the hell out of an espresso martini and pour the frothy drink into a martini glass. “Pool hall?”
He groans. “Not you too.”
I lean across the bar, using hushed tones so no one else can hear me. “Travis trusts me to look after him. All I need is for you and your recklessness to barrel in.”
“I was gonna bring Jack. He woulda kept me out of trouble.”
