Page 124 of Friendzone Hockey
Me
You have to admit that it’s a very Elkington thing to do. Also, kinda cool if I’m being honest.
Dash
Yeah, you’re right. But urrrrrrgh. I’m gonna sound weird for a second, but I had this ridiculous dream about you two fucking. He’s not even your type—I know—but could you just tell me you’ll never fuck him?
He’s adorable.
Me
Never. It’ll never happen. And while I’m at it, I promise never to fuck any Elkington.
Dash
Agreed—I wouldn’t either—but it’s okay to think Maxwell’s hot in a villain-y sort of way, right?
Me
Hundred percent, but also not my type.
Dash is my type. Dash is my only type.
December
We finally get a video call. It’s just before Christmas, so we chat about that and make plans. There will be what we’re calling A Very Meyer Christmas this year and since we’ve been absorbed into the family because of Jack, we’ll go there this year.
Dash looks … well it’s not good. Bags around his eyes, pale, almost gray skin, his hair’s not brushed, but he could have just woken up. It’s such a contrast to his demeanor—jovial, upbeat, excited—that I talk myself out of it being anything other than a little bit of missed sleep.
“You haven’t mentioned plans with Syd for Christmas,” I say, but it’s a question. And, yeah, I’m an ass, but I hope it means trouble in paradise.
A sleepy smile finds its way to his lips. “Syd promised he’d be with his family in Whistler this year, and I already had my plans, so we’ll see each other for New Year instead and spend Christmas together next year to make up for it.”
Next … next year? Did I hear that right?
“Stace?”
“Uh, yeah. Wow, things are serious, huh?” It’s the second nail in the coffin. What have I done?
He nods. “Really serious. I think he might be the one.”
My brain tries and fails to make sense of it. His words don’t match his actions. How can he be so jealous of what I’m doing, but talk about Syd being the one?
I know Dash. All of him. The deepest parts, the tarnished parts, the best parts. Even his worst parts. He can be a fucking brat, but he’s not cruel. Never. He’s a gentle soul, except when he’s on the ice. He’d never toy with me.
What was going on with us could only mean one thing: Fear of losing his most familiar safety net. The jealousy and possessiveness wasn’t because he wanted me, it was because he was afraid of what would happen if someone else had me.
Dash gets everything he wants—that’s my vow. If he wants Syd as his—fuck—as his husband, and me as the dependable bestie sidekick that’s what he’ll get.
Suck it up, buttercup.
I force my brain to get back online, disconnecting it from my heart completely. My heart’s a landmine, liable to explode from the smallest of touches.
“He’s the one who makes you happy, Dashie?”
“Yeah, he…”
Dash spins off, gushing about Syd. My stomach churns. It feels like I let Dash go, but I haven’t. This was always the inevitable conclusion. I’m the one who got caught up in a fantasy that I always knew was just that—a fantasy.
