Page 51 of Friendzone Hockey
He waggles his brows. “Hard not to around you when you’re bein’ bossy. You pull it out of me, Alderchuck.”
I’m glad to see him coming out of his shell, though.
I’m on high alert for the next four nights, and knowing we have to leave for training camp’s got my stomach twisting. What will I do if things aren’t okay? Can I make him stay home? He’ll fight that. Him and his damn independence. Yeah, I want him to have it, but does he need to have it all at once?
Buddy the unicorn seems to do the trick for those four nights, but then it’s the fifth night and the fifth night is the one I’m thanking the stars for my paranoia. I hear him clear as daythrough the walls. I’m up, storming into the room like a white knight on speed.
He’s thrashing, mewling, clawing at his hair. “Dash. Dashie, wake up.” He doesn’t, and I freeze. Dash and I don’t touch often. Sure, I’ve hugged him a time or two, held him when he’s really needed it, but I’ve even touched Dirk more than I have him. Dirk’s shockingly cuddly, which you’d never expect from his prickly exterior. But with Dash, it’s as if we know what’ll happen. We already hover close, already make excuses to be near each other. Coming into contact, though?
Highly dangerous. Huge risk of combustion.
That’s the only reason I hesitate, otherwise I’d already be wrapped around him.
“Stace … Stacey!Help.”
I spur into action. I rip the covers open and surround him, trapping his arms so he can’t do any damage. I hold him so fucking tight.
“Shhh. Dash. Dashie? I’m here. It’s me. You’re safe.”
I murmur a stream of comfort into his ear. He’s still trapped in a nightmare but, dammit, he called for me, and I’m gonna save him from it. Just gotta figure out how to reach inside his head.
His eyes flutter open, and he blinks, trying to figure out what the fuck’s going on. It’s a moment of cold terror. Did I do the right thing? Have I invaded his space? Crossed a line? Destroyed our budding friendship?
Tears glisten in the moonlight as they travel down his cheeks. “You came,” he whispers.
“I will always fucking come.”
He nods, tugging his arms free to encircle me with them, holding on for dear life. “Please stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere. Close your eyes.” I kiss the top of his head.
Iwake up before him, and since the bright sunlight’s poking through the billowy curtains, I feel comfortable enough to leave him so I can get started on breakfast for the crew. With how late we rise in the off-season, you’d never know we’re hockey players, but that’s what working in the restaurant industry does to you—makes you a night owl.
No one’s up yet, but Dash’s careful feet pluck their way to a barstool at the kitchen island by the time I’ve got coffee started. His bright smile tells me everything I need to know about last night. Any reservations I might have had wiped away like rain on a car windshield.
“Thank you for last night. I, um … what we did was okay, right?”
The truth is, I’m not sure, but I know I don’t want him feeling bad about getting the comfort he needs. Not when faced with the alternative.
“It’s okay with me, but if you’re uncomfortable about?—”
“No!” he says. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m comfortable it’s just … what will everyone else think?”
“Don’t care what others think, Dashie, so long as you’re taken care of.”
“Oh.” He exhales a breath that seems to release the worry out of him. He sits up taller, competing with the sunshine for brilliance. Although, there’s no contest. He wins every time. “Can I help?”
“Wanna start the bacon?”
Dash brushes by me on the way to retrieve the bacon from the fridge. A whole-ass shiver goes through me.
I was too focused on him last night, so it only dawns on me now, we touched and the world didn’t end. I held him against my semi-naked body—I was only wearing pajama pants—and I didn’t suddenly want to jump his bones.
But then there are times like now when it feels like my fucking body’s conspiring against me.
No. If last night was a sign of anything it’s that we can do this—we can be friends and we can touch. I bet the more we do it, the better it’ll be. A desensitization sort of thing. Yeah. This is good. Real good. Best news since I found out I was playing for the Wildcats.
It’s midnight, and I’m in my bed reading, not planning on trying to sleep until the rest of the crew is home. They eventually crash into the front door, their boisterous voices carrying down the hallway. It was me and Jack who worked the lunch shift from the five of us. Jack went home for once.
