3. Anthony

As soon as Wyatt and Lily were out of earshot, the exam room door clicking shut behind them and Dr. Green, Sue turned wide eyes on me. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, of course.” I signed the credit card receipt she’d handed to me. “It’s not that much.”

“I didn’t mean this part.” She inclined her head. “Honey, you’re really going to bring a homeless man into your house?”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Well, I… I don’t know, but…” She glanced in the direction Wyatt had gone, then looked up at me again. “But you can help him without bringing him into your home, can’t you? Foot the bill for a motel or something?”

I guess I understood her reaction. She didn’t sound disgusted, just worried, and given the things people said about homeless people being scary and dangerous, I got it. I didn’t know Wyatt from Adam. He could have a weapon. He could have a serious addiction. It was entirely possible he would try to hurt me. Damage or steal my property. Do something to make me sorely regret this. What if he was a scam artist or something? What if he was trying to get into the clinic to steal drugs, or he’d have designs on stealing things from me he could sell for drugs? There was, in fact, a part of my mind screaming at me that I was taking a massive, reckless risk, and it could quite possibly blow up in my face.

But I couldn’t make myself say no. Even finding him a hotel room or something didn’t seem like enough. And now that I was considering Sue’s question and my own conflicted feelings about it, I could suddenly articulate why, from the moment I’d offered my spare room, I’d been committed.

“I’ve got two options,” I explained. “I can let him and his dog sleep out there and potentially die. Or I can take them in and potentially get robbed or scammed. My conscience would never forgive me for the first choice. And the rest?” I half-shrugged. “That’s what insurance is for.”

Sue and Amanda stared at me.

“You’re not worried he’ll hurt your boys?” Amanda asked.

That question seemed simultaneously absurd and like a slap in the face.

Uh, yeah, Anthony—did you think about the safety of your boys? Jesus Christ.

But I couldn’t shake the image of this man pleading for nothing more than someplace warm and safe for his dog. Even if it meant riding out the night without his service dog. Regardless of what waited for him out there, he’d been ready to face it alone as long as she was warm and safe.

That… wasn’t a man who was going to hurt an animal. I could feel that truth all the way to my core.

Shaking her head, Sue slipped her copy of my receipt into a manila folder. “Well, you’re braver than I am.”

Maybe. But this was a risk I was willing to accept.

It occurred to me, though, that my boyfriend might not accept it. Then again, he’d moved out. His name was still on the mortgage, and in theory, we were still together, but he’d packed up his shit and left. So… fuck it. I didn’t need his approval. The fact that this would almost certainly infuriate him wasn’t nearly as much of a deterrent as it probably should’ve been, and I didn’t feel like picking that apart right now.

“Are you really going to let him stay in your house and ride in your car?” Beside Sue, Amanda wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think there’s enough Febreze in the world.”

I scowled.

Sue glared at her. “Why don’t you go check the water dishes in the kennels?”

Amanda shrugged and wandered off to do exactly that. As soon as we were alone again, Sue and I both rolled our eyes, but neither of us said anything.

I got it, I supposed. No, Wyatt didn’t smell spectacular, but who would after living out there? And it wasn’t like I smelled like roses whenever I was sweating in my hockey gear.

Admittedly, if someone had thrown this situation at me as a hypothetical, I probably would’ve have said that, no, I wouldn’t take a random stranger into my house. And yes, the hygiene issue would’ve been a factor. But faced with the real person and the real situation, it was impossible to justify tossing him—with or without his dog—out into the cold in order to keep my car upholstery or my carpets clean.

While Wyatt and Lily were in the back, I left the cats with Sue for a moment and took their bags of food as well as Lily’s out to my car. When I came back, she handed me the leashes, but met me with an expression of renewed concern.

“Do you think Simon going to be okay with this arrangement?”

My stomach flipped, but I managed an uncomfortable laugh. “I should text him.”

Sue grimaced, and I couldn’t even blame her. And yeah, I probably did need to text him.

Just… not for the reason she was thinking.

I took a seat in the lobby, and once I’d made sure both cats were occupied—Moose sitting in a chair and watching the parking lot, Bear lying on the floor attacking Moose’s chair—I took out my phone.

Anthony:Going to be home a little late. Can we FaceTime at 9 instead of 8?

I cringed as soon as I sent it. Again when he read it. I leaned back in the chair and petted Moose while I waited for Simon to respond. The longer it took, the tighter my stomach wound. Tonight’s FaceTime call would be delightful, I was sure. They were always tense and stressful, and if I did something to piss him off—which I seemed to do just by breathing these days—that would be even worse.

Maybe I should’ve just bailed altogether for tonight. Told him something had come up. He was going to be a dick about it either way, but at least I wouldn’t have to actually talk to him until tomorrow.

Until tomorrow morning. When he picked me up so we could head to practice. Together. Where we’d have to continue putting on the charade of a happy couple.

Christ, was the season over yet?

Yeah, right. It was only mid-November.

Mid-November with a vicious cold snap coming in. That meant December, January, and February—maybe even March—were going to be brutal. Especially for someone sleeping outdoors with his extremely short-haired dog.

I could help Wyatt and Lily tonight. But what about the rest of the winter?

A sharp beep yanked me out of my thoughts, and renewed dread filled my gut as I looked down at my phone.

Simon:Look, if you don’t want to do this, then just say so. I don’t have time to be jerked around.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a string of curses. My fingers itched with the responses I wished I had the spine to type out.

I’m the only one putting in any goddamned effort, but sure, yeah, asking to bump our conversation by an hour means I’m not committed.

I mean, you could always move back in so we could talk face to face like a normal couple.

You’re the one who acts like this is a giant imposition, and God forbid I suggest counseling, so why don’t you just go fuck yourself?

But I really did want to get us back on the rails. This wasn’t who we were—it was just an incredibly rough patch, further complicated by all the pressure we were under to not let a single crack show to anyone else. Hell, even if we did decide to break up, we’d still have to play the perfect couple at least until the hockey season was over unless we wanted to pay for it professionally. Our club had made that crystal clear. So, like it or not, it was in my best interest to, for the time being, at least try to smooth things over with Simon.

And how do you think he’ll react if he finds out about Wyatt?

Not well, that was for sure. So it was probably best for me to keep this whole thing up my sleeve. The last thing we needed was more to fight about.

I took a deep breath as I carefully chose my words. Then I sent him a text.

Anthony:I’m sorry. Something came up so I can’t be sure I’ll be able to talk at 8. I might be, though. I can text you when I’m home. Just didn’t want to be late. That’s all.

I scowled at my own words. He was probably making a similar face, if not for the same reasons. God, I was so tired of bowing and scraping every time I needed him to give an inch. He’d just flat out not bothered to show up for two of our FaceTime calls. No heads up. No explanation. No apology. But heaven forbid I had anything come up, even when I tried to be courteous and let him know.

I exhaled, my shoulders sinking as fatigue settled in. This was exhausting, and I was pretty sure that wasn’t how relationships were supposed to be. Sometimes I wondered if it would just be easier to throw in the towel and move on.

But whenever my mind went there, it also went back to that day two seasons ago when Simon and I had been sitting in our general manager’s office like a pair of schoolkids facing the principal. The president of hockey operations, the head coach, and two reps from the organization that owned the team had loomed behind him as he’d stared us down across his desk.

“I am not fucking around, boys.” Our GM’s voice echoed in my ears. “We’re taking a big risk, letting a pair of teammates fraternize the way you are. A lot of potential for PR shitstorms, and even more potential for conflict in that locker room.” He’d narrowed his eyes and growled, “Mark my words—we think for a second the two of you are on the outs, one or both of you will be gone. Am I clear?”

Simon and I had nodded solemnly.

In that moment, despite being intimidated as hell by the team’s brass, it had been easy to make that commitment. Simon and I got along great. We’d been so good at keeping our relationship from affecting the team that no one had even caught on for the first entire year we’d been together. The only reason we’d found ourselves in that meeting was because we’d wanted to do right by our team and be honest. We’d come out. For a few unnerving days, we were sure one or both of us would be traded, waived, or released.

Ultimately it was our coach who’d gone to bat for us, saying we were each too valuable to the team on and off the ice. And public relations had stepped in to say that being the first team in the League with an out couple on the roster would be a PR jackpot.

Both of those things were true… as long as we didn’t hit the skids or break up.

After our GM had put the fear of God into us, we’d gone public. It had done great things for the team’s image, and we’d found ourselves being called an iconic power couple. Though we hadn’t been the first players to come out in the League, we were the first player couple. We dated openly. We roomed together on road trips. We were often interviewed together for articles. There was even a social media page called Austin-Caron Engagement Watch, where people tried to predict when we’d finally get engaged. It was kind of hilarious, actually, how many cameras zeroed in on our left hands whenever we were out in public.

And then, last season, behind closed doors and far out of anyone’s sight, things had begun to come unraveled.

Now I was in some sadistic version of Purgatory. I couldn’t escape the exhausting charade of happy boyfriends in front of cameras and everyone we know. I couldn’t make any headway on actually getting back to being happy boyfriends with Simon. I couldn’t risk my career by letting either of those plates stop spinning.

I was so fucking done… but I couldn’t stop.

My phone pinged again, and I muttered, “Fuck. Now what?”

Simon: Whatever. We can talk in the car tomorrow.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. That was always his solution. If one of us couldn’t make a chat, or if we were FaceTiming and arguing about something, his answer was always to finish it in the car the next day. Because nothing helped us keep our cover like arguing in the car on the way to practice or a game.

Before I could reply, a door opened at the end of the hall. Dog tags jingled and nails clicked on the floor as Dr. Green and Wyatt returned to the reception area.

As soon as she came around the corner, Lily caught sight of the cats, and her tail started wagging furiously. She did her play bow again, dropping onto her elbows as her butt wiggled in the air.

Moose wasn’t remotely interested, but Bear crouched down like he was stalking her, tail swishing as he too wiggled his butt. I leaned down and scratched his back. “Let’s maybe not attack the dog, yeah?”

He ignored me and tried to run at her, but hit the end of his leash, nearly yanking my arm out of the socket in the process. Lily was delighted, bouncing and yipping to egg him on.

Wyatt and I both laughed as we reeled in our playful critters. He told Lily to sit, which she immediately did, though she was clearly disappointed. I just picked up Bear and held him on my hip, because it wasn’t like he was going to listen.

Moose, of course, was still on the chair, eyeing all of us as if he did not have time for the antics of peasants.

Gesturing at Lily, I asked, “How’s she doing?”

Wyatt’s smile fell a little, and his brow creased as he reached down to pet her neck. “She’s got a little skin infection on her hip.” He grimaced. “Probably something she picked up outside.”

“It’s a very minor infection,” Dr. Green clarified, and she handed him a small plastic bag. “The ointment will help with the itching and redness. There’s also an oral antibiotic just to make sure it’s gone.”

Wyatt nodded, looking a little pale at the prospect.

“Is she hard to pill?” I asked. “Because I can help. I’ve got experience getting pills down that one.” I nodded toward Moose, who glared up at me as if to ask, “How dare you, human?”

Wyatt laughed thinly. “No, no, she’s easy to pill.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’m just not sure I can afford both.” He slid a card free as he asked, “How much are they?”

She smiled. “I’m including it with the exam fee.”

He blinked. “You—really?”

Dr. Green nodded. Then her expression shifted as well, and she glanced at Lily with worried eyes. “It’s important to keep her—and especially the infected area—as clean as possible until it clears up.”

The shame and embarrassment in Wyatt’s face were impossible to miss, not to mention the worry. “I’ll, uh… I’ll figure something out.”

“How long is she on the antibiotics?” I asked.

“Ten days,” Dr. Green replied. “And I’d like to follow up with her in a week to make sure she’s improving.” She hesitated, then added, “If that’s possible.”

Wyatt opened his mouth to speak, but I said, “We’ll make it happen.”

He turned to me, lips still apart and eyes wide.

“We’ll make it happen,” I repeated gently. “She’ll be okay.”

He looked absolutely bewildered.

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just went with, “I’m ready to roll whenever you are.” I gestured over my shoulder. “Her food is in the car.”

Wyatt blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let me, uh…” He looked around, then found her service dog vest where he’d left it on the counter. “Let me just get her dressed.”