16. Tyler

"Aye! It's old Cap." I was surprised to see Holden's smile on the other end of the phone… sitting in my living room. I leaned in close to make sure I wasn't imagining things and noted my furrowed brow in the viewfinder as I wondered what the hell he was doing answering my brother's phone. I then voiced that very same thought. "Holden, what are you doing answering my brother's phone?" He kept the camera fixated on his annoying face, making me groan. That ridiculous smirk told me he was well aware of how much it bothered me.

"Good to see you too champ." His tone had me wishing I were there to knock him out cold.

"Fuck off. Where's Jamie?"

"Getting his shit ready. I'm taking him to his training. Kay drove your mum to her hospital appointment. Jamie didn't want to take the bus, so here I am."

Somehow, I found myself in a conflicting state. I was ecstatic that someone was watching over Jamie, but my gut twisted at the thought of Mum undergoing another round of chemo.

"Thanks, Holden. For real."

Holden's cocky grin faded. "You know I care for Jamie. I promised I would watch out for him. You two are practically family."

I relaxed into the couch, Cal's singing followed him from his bedroom to the kitchen.

"So," he drawled. "You been enjoying some college life, finally letting loose?" I could see the moment his gaze fell over my shoulder to where Cal was dancing into the kitchen shirtless.

"If you consider one wild night a college experience, Mr. Cute Australian boy, then yes—Ty here has lived his wildest self. Otherwise, he's just a robot—wake up, run, study, hockey, study, and repeat. Why don't you help a gal out and make him come out with me tonight?"

I shot a glare at him and clenched my jaw.

"Big wild night aye? I am all ears."

"And you still wouldn't listen because there's nothing to tell"

"I call bullshit. You haven't slept with anyone since you know who. And I know what that was like for you. So, she must have been a decent bird or… maybe a decent dude?"

I choked on my next breath. I heard a mumble from Cal behind me and his hand squeezed my shoulder. I met his gaze, understanding the unspoken apology in his eyes I hoped mine conveyed the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Apparently, my glare spoke volumes, as he retreated to his room. There would definitely be words exchanged between us later.

"So… now that the emu is out of the room, am I on the right track?"

My tongue felt too big for my mouth. I wasn't ashamed that I was gay. But it was new. I was still wrapping my head around it, much less trying to help other people along. There hadn't been a moment of the day where I hadn't had Hunter's face, or his muscles or his fucking ass flashing in my mind. Which when you share a locker room with the fucker… it was very inconvenient, to say the least.

"I take that as a yes, but your roommate? Is that smart? Like I see what you see in him, he is both pretty and masculine, but like… don't shit where you eat man."

A string of incoherent sounds that were meant to be words tumbled out of my mouth.

"W-no! What-uh-The fuck."

"Okay, but I'm clearly on the right track. It was a guy, wasn't it?"

I sighed and bit my lip.

Holden leaned in close and dropped his voice."Your brother is still getting ready if you don't want him to know." His chocolate eyes were filled with warmth. I couldn't fathom why I ever doubted his unwavering support. Maybe it was just the toxic masculinity that came with playing any sport: you didn't want your teammates to think you were checking them out.

"Why do you have to be so perceptive?" I grumbled.

"Because we've been best friends since we were four. I have been through all the shit life has thrown at you. We slept in the same bed for years. I know you talk in your sleep. It's just what brothers and best friends do."

I huffed. "I suppose,"

"Guess I'm not your type though?" I knew he was joking by the smile on his face.

"Nah, mate. Your face looks like a bashed crab." I winked. He wasn't unattractive exactly, but he was… Holden. He was my brother.

"It's the mullet, isn't it? The moment I get rid of the mullet you will be all over me."

I laughed. "Sure, not the fact that being with you would be like being with my brother. Just not my jam."

"Fair, you're not my type either, your boobs are too hard, I need a pillow, you know?"

"You will need to shave off the mullet if you want your type,"

"Pfft. This mullet is iconic, isn't it Jamie."

I heard footsteps and the video bobbed as the couch sank with my brother's weight. "Keep telling yourself that as long as you want blue balls."

I watched Holden's hand go to the back of his, assessing said hairstyle and I couldn't help but laugh. Jamie's "no-bullshit" tone only added to the blow.

"You both suck. I'm a true-blue Aussie: it's a look!"

"It is a look, that's for sure," Jamie countered, just as dry as before.

My heart panged with homesickness over the memory of the simple days hanging in the living space with my two brothers. Holden fit in that category. God knows he was around enough.

"Go out tonight, Ty."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath, waiting for Holden to reveal something I had yet to disclose to my brother. It hit me in that moment: I'd appointed myself as his role model. Whether I liked it or not, I aspired to be just like our father. Disclosing that I wasn't anything like the man he idolized was something I couldn't bring myself to do. My own experiences were not something I wanted him to know about. The only wisdom I felt equipped to impart was that he didn't have to become a pushover like me—that he had the right to say no.

I glanced at Holden, hoping that maybe he could be the one to guide Jamie through the complexity of dating girls.

"You don't have to look after me or mum, Ty. Make the most of it," Jamie added, his tone loaded with undefined meaning. I looked at him, and though I knew I was half a world apart from him, it somehow felt even farther.

Holden being the amazing best friend that he was read the room and sat up., "Alright kiddo, get in the car so we aren't late."

"Not a fucking kid…" Jamie groused and left the shot, despite it being his phone that Holden was holding.

Holden sighed heavily. "I got it here mate. He's just a teenager. He'll be right. Go, enjoy a night with your mystery guy. We'll table this convo for now."

Before I could even answer he was yelling bye while disconnecting the call.

"Are all Australians hot? Or is it just the hockey players?" Cal's voice jolted me from my thoughts. I hadn't even noticed him sitting on the coffee table in front of me. He was dressed in a button up, corduroy pants, and a cardigan that suspiciously resembled something out of folklore. "You're barking up the wrong tree with that one. Straight as an arrow."

"Mmhmm sure. Are you coming or what?"

"Fine, but don't think we don't have a conversation to have."

After I changed, we headed to the hockey house. I found myself gnawing at my bottom lip, grappling with thoughts of what happened the last time I was there.

I will not sleep with Hunter Graves again. I will not sleep with Hunter Graves again.

We walked up the leaf-littered footpath to the door, Cal rambling away beside me. I was ashamed that I didn't hear a word he said.

"Dude, I could have just said I wash my balls with vinegar and you would be none the wiser."

"What?"

Cal reached over to ruffle my hair. "You had no clue what I had been saying as we drove over here."

"Sorry mate, just…" Just what? My mind was stuck playing an endless loop of Hunter's naked body, the feel of his skin against mine, the smell of his expensive cologne, the way he held me tight against his chest after sex. The way even when he attempted to rile me up, I ended up hiding a hard-on because his voice is something that should be recorded for an audiobook. Fuck.

"You thinking about mind-blowing sex?" Cal nudged me, his dimpled smirk beginning to grate at my nerves. My face must work better than my mouth because Cal let out a bark of laughter. "Fuck, man, he really did a number on you. I suppose it was your first, but God…. It's good you got a guy with experience; I wish my first time had me all daydreamy like that."

I shoved him—the only thing I could think to do. Mum would be so proud. Cal, only getting more revved up by my adolescent behaviors, threw his arm around my shoulders. "I think we could find another discreet male that would take your mind off Hunter. Someone for you to fuck, or—if you're like me—get well and truly fucked."

My stomach bottomed out at the idea. Could I do it? Sleep with another guy? Something about it was anything but appealing.

Cal led me through the front doors and my teammates called out as they saw me enter. I waved to my teammates, some approaching for those one-shoulder hugs, but Cal's idea ran through my mind like a derailed train. I wasn't picking up on a thing anyone said, absentmindedly nodding along to the conversation. Cal had already left the group, heading directly to him—Hunter Graves. He wore a dark black button-up shirt, sleeves folded to reveal his tattoos, paired with dark ripped jeans and boots. The entire look had my body heated like walking outside on a hot summer's day.

His eyes met mine, studying my body the exact same way I'd just studied his. Cal looked between the two of us, his grin giving us away as he publicized his excitement over our heated looks.

Little prick.

I looked away, surveying the room and noting the people scattered around the house. The house was warm, but a chill came through as doors opened and closed.

I spotted Kinsley sitting with a pretty brunette, watching as Lachlan and Preston played on the PlayStation. I didn't miss the way Lachlan Getz—aka Getzy—side-eyed Kinsley, whose full breasts bounced as she laughed. I scoffed, grabbed a Jack and Coke, and stole the seat beside Kinsley.

She looked shocked at first as I sat beside her; then, her eyes softened. "Hey, Aussie," she greeted. I smiled politely, trying not to flinch as she brushed her lips against my cheek. Getzy and Preston shot me a jealous look, adding to the nerves zipping.

"Hey Kins." I looked at the girl next to her and extended my hand. "I'm Tyler. Or Aussie, or Aus—whatever anyone wants to call me really." She greeted me with a warm-hearted smile and a soft grip on my hand. She was undeniably pretty – someone I could easily picture Hunter heading upstairs with tonight, perhaps even sharing her with Kins.

Kinsley, with her golden hair, blue eyes, and banging body created a beautiful contrast to the girl next to her. She had dark hair, hazel eyes, full lips, and an athletic body –the female version of Hunter himself.

"I know who you are. Great game today. I'm Kelsey Lienhart, women's hockey team." I suppressed a laugh and resisted the urge to point out the obvious. My gaze shifted between the two women, catching the glimmer in Kinsley's eyes as she seemed to soak in her friend's presence.

"Thanks. I haven't had a chance to watch the female team, but I'll have to now, see how you play," I remarked, unintentionally injecting a flirtatious tone into my words. Getzy and Pres smirked, obviously picking up on it. I truly just wanted to watch them play. Back home, I coached the younger female hockey team, and I firmly believed those women could easily compete with the men—even outplay us.

"She's very talented," Kels added. I couldn't help but smile. "The PWHL is looking to draft her, and she played for the under eighteens at worlds."

"Don't say that in front of Hunter," I teased, keeping my voice low enough for the three of us to hear. "He may get jealous of you moving on to a better-looking and more talented hockey player." They both blushed and I found myself liking the dynamic between them. However, it made me wonder where Hunter stood in this equation. I then mentally scolded myself for even thinking about him again.

I stayed engaged in the conversation, Kels eager to learn the differences between Australia and the States. I didn't blame her; Australia was a thirty-six out of fifty-six in the IIHF. When I said Australian players weren't on the NHL's radar, I wasn't joking. Regardless of all the time I spent training in other countries, the hours I spent on YouTube studying plays—it didn't matter. Mum even had coaches who watched remotely, guiding me as I trained to be the best I could be. I hated to think about the amount of money she invested in me over the years to get me where I was.

"It's crazy the amount you have done just to get that step ahead," Kelsey remarked, entirely unaware of the depth of my journey. I felt a hint of pride, a rare emotion for me. I'd never truly taken a moment to appreciate where I was—every step along the way. I had to look forward. I couldn't slow down. I always needed to be on top of my game. Because of that, I hadn't really taken a moment to pat myself on the back.

I looked away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the reality of it all. I was here in America, the top country on the IIHF leaderboard. I had a scholarship to a top hockey school. I was winning games.

Sure, I wasn't playing center like I was back home, I wasn't a captain. But I was in one of the first lines tonight. I was a forward and I was shooting goals, making assists with guys who had been on the draft's radar for years. They were only beginning to hear the name Tyler Riley. Scouts were at my games now. And for some reason, it had me feeling sick to my stomach.

As if she could sense my nerves, Kinsley passed me another drink. A quick smell of it told me she paid close attention—another Jack and Coke. She was an intuitive one and though I definitely didn't want to sleep with her, I could see her becoming a good friend.

When I glanced up to scan the room again, Cal was engrossed in conversation with a man the size of a linebacker. He was tall with full, broad shoulders. His deep skin glowed in the yellow ceiling lights, and I couldn't help but notice how the light accentuated the ridges of his muscles. He was undeniably attractive, his presence intimidating as he looked down at Cal. The combination of light and dark was stunning, and I had a strong feeling I would be hearing about him later—whether I wanted to or not.

Kelsey caught my line of sight and hummed appreciatively.

"Eric Davis. Often mistaken for his football twin, Ezra Davis. I may not be into guys, but if I were he'd be a top contender. The guy could be on the cover of the Hot Guy Weekly," she admitted.

I didn't react to her admission of her sexuality, too busy checking out Cal's current conquest. It suddenly struck me how obvious I was being, openly checking out a guy—and Kelsey didn't miss it either. I shifted my attention to where Getzy and Pres had been sitting, relieved to see they'd abandoned the video game, likely in search of new girls to chat up with since these two were clearly not interested.

Kelsey moved, taking a seat on the other side of me, reaching behind my back to keep some contact with Kins despite their physical distance. Cute.

"Don't worry; I think even straight males would agree he's hot," she assured me. "He would be anyone's hall pass."

I scoffed, observing the way Cal's eyes melted as Eric spoke animatedly about something. It was a rare sight to see Cal quiet, let alone starstruck. "Is Eric…"

Kel's was such a trooper. She didn't even bat an eye. "Yeah, he is. He's not closeted but he doesn't exactly go around screaming it. The only difference between the twins are their tattoos. He doesn't want someone to mistake him for his brother—he's a top draft pick."

I frowned. "So, the brother has to hide his sexuality for the sake of his twin's status?"

Kelsey nods. "Yup, sad really." She shrugs, but her hand reaches my knee and squeezes, the silent apology for the life I have to live—we have to live.

"Yeah, can we, ah, keep this… " Before I could finish, both women squeezed a thigh in turn.

"Your secret's safe with us, Aussie."

I half-smiled, looking back to Cal and Eric. Cal had moved closer, leaving only a sliver of space between them. Eric gave Cal that same look of interest. I felt a pang of jealousy. There weren't many times I hated hockey, but as I sat there and watched those two shamelessly flirt, I questioned whether I'd made the right choice. I could have stayed home, pursued coaching or something, and found a guy who would look at me like that. It would just be simpler that way.

Sure, Australia wasn't without its homophobia. Perth, in particular, wasn't the most queer-friendly place to be. Still, I wouldn't have this heaviness on my chest, the guilt of not being there for my family.

I sculled my drink and poured another, Kins and Kels staying close to my side. They could have snuck away together by now, but maybe they sensed my unease. They stayed glued to me.

I watched as Cal's ex walked in, stopping in his tracks as his eyes landed on Cal. His jaw ticked, and he immediately went to approach them, Cal got to his toes and whispered something in Eric's ear. Eric's eyes lit up, and then they were making out.

Both girls leaned in, whispering, "hot!" They weren't wrong. I almost wanted to laugh at myself. For so long, I pushed this part of myself away blaming hormones and puberty. Nope, a lie. A blatant lie. Because I had two very attractive females beside me, and I wanted nothing to do with either of them. But watching Cal and Eric? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous. Not of them specifically, but jealous of the fact that they could openly take what they wanted.

"I think you're making a certain someone jealous," Kins hummed into my ear. I looked around and sure enough, my broody Boston boy was staring a hole through me from the other side of Cal and Eric.

I took a sip of my drink, hiding behind the cup for more reasons than one. My face was flushed, and my eyes were clearly locked on three men in the room. The first two were hot enough on their own. That third one though, really got my blood pumping. There was something about the way he looked at me that made me forget every reservation I had over being with him. I felt a hand on either side of me—one from each Kinsley and Kelsey—as they pulled me away from the scene.

"Watch where you're going, big guy. You're not doing yourself any favors," Kelsey whispered in my ear. I listened as Kins led me up a familiar staircase

A lump formed in my throat as my body relived that night for the thousandth time. Upon reaching the top floor, I realized how drunk I must have been the last time I was there. It was almost like a separate apartment inside the house. I couldn't help but wonder how Hunter—who wasn't the captain—had managed to secure that space.

The bathroom was visible through the door that connected the living room to the bedroom, triggering memories of how Hunter had tried to comfort me mid-spiral. Oblivious to my surroundings, I pondered how we functioned on the ice with him seemingly becoming my new Roman Empire.

Kinsley and Kelsey closed the loft door, making their way to the couch and leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. The living room featured a small couch, where each of the girls chose a side and flipped it out to a bed, and decorated it with some blankets before browsing the TV for something to watch.

I walked to the furthest side of the room, where a messy desk sat piled with books and papers. Curious, I lightly nudged around to read the titles—Law. Hunter was studying pre-law. I felt like I should have known that, but then again, I didn't know half the majors my teammates were studying. Perhaps, when you don't see them off the ice, you never truly get to know them better.

I bit the inside of my gum, punishing myself for that. I wasn't like this back home. There weren't any secrets between myself and my teammates. While they didn't know I was questioning my sexuality, they were familiar with my home life and interests.

"You know," Kinsley called over her show. "You can make yourself comfortable, or you can go back downstairs. I just wanted to save you from getting caught out by your teammates."

I looked over to see the two girls cuddled under a blanket, Kelsey's head comfortably resting on Kinsley's chest.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." They smiled at me before going back to their show, their hands not so secretly exploring each other.

"There's whiskey over there on the bookshelf," she added. "Help yourself. There's also another TV in Hunter's room. The party tends to die down around midnight if you want to wait it out."

I went to the shelf, found a glass, poured myself some American Honey, and took my phone out as it buzzed in my pocket.

CAL: Hey, so I invited Eric back to our dorm…

I scoffed.

Don't stick your ass where we eat. Have fun.

CAL: Got it, sex stays in my room. I'll tell you all about it at brunch! Text me when you are on your way, I'll make sure all the dicks are away.

I laugh again, looking up to see the girls staring at me, "Cal's taking Eric to our dorm."

"Well, go get comfy in Hunter's room. He chills with the guys for a while before he makes his way up."

The door opened, and as if we'd said his name too many times, Mr. Boston himself entered the room. He took in his surroundings before his eyes finally landed on me. "Didn't know your voyeurism extended to lesbians, baby."

I rolled my eyes.

"Cal called dibs to the dorm for a bit," Kins offered. "I invited him up here." Did I mention I liked her? I could understand why Hunter was so loyal. Though I had a feeling he was going to have to say goodbye to their sexual rendezvous—Kelsey didn't give off the I share my girl vibes.

"Am I a good wingman or what?" Hunter smiled broadly. I looked away, my obvious defense mechanism against his disarming attractive looks.

"You did well. Now stop stroking your ego, we're trying to watch TV." Kins's tone was clipped, but I had the feeling she was up to something. I watched as Hunter took the hint, heading in the direction of his room before looking over his shoulder. "Feel like watching a hockey game?" Hockey was mutual ground between us, one I was kind of thankful for. The mischievous sparkle was gone from his eye, replaced by something soft and sincere. I nodded but paused to grab the bottle of whiskey and an extra glass for Hunter.

We watched as Boston fought against Florida, bonding over our mutual swearing at the opposing team.

"That was a fucking hold!" we yelled at the same time.

"Seriously, ref! Are you getting paid to miss their penalties?!"

"Remind me again why I like this sport?" I laughed, though with my recent worries, it was something of a non-rhetorical question. Hunter looked at me, brow quirked as if he was surprised by the question.

"Because your good at it. The moment you're in the rink you can't think of a reason why you don't love it? Bruises, sore muscles, and all."

And that had been pretty much it. It had been the one place I didn't seem to question myself. It was just me, my team, and the goal of getting that puck in the net. Perhaps it had been a caveman way of thinking, but in the craziness of life, sometimes it had been good to just hit something or check someone as hard as you could.

Hunter grumbled. "Wow, you didn't even preen at the fact I said you were good. Seriously, do you have any flaws? Please say you do, because you don't have a massive ego, you don't have a temper, and you always put others before yourself. Like seriously, there has to be something wrong with you.'"

I looked at him and his blazing amber eyes stripped me bare, as if my fatal flaw would be written somewhere on my body. I huffed a laugh. "You're just blind. I have many flaws. I'm a control freak, a perfectionist on so many accounts. Sometimes I wonder if there will be a day when I completely crack. I'm a chronic people-pleaser, even if I hate the person. You seem to be the exception to the rule and I'm not too sure how I feel about that."

The words rattled off my tongue, and I bit down on it in an attempt to stop any further ramblings. Hunter looked me over as if he could sense the tension in my jaw, and could taste the copper on my tongue as I sank my teeth in even more. The low glow of the TV made his eyes shine bright. My gaze traveled to how he bit his bottom lip, fuller than the top. I knew the taste of that bottom lip, knew how it felt sweeping over my own. My body reacted, heat prickling under my collar. I just hoped he blamed the alcohol. The heat in his eyes had me wanting it—wanting him—all over again. I was a man starved. Social construct dictated that I should push the bowl away when all I wanted to do was lick it clean.

Hunter leaned in. He was always so much braver, so much more daring. His lips ghosted mine, as if waiting for me to close the gap. His own honey—tinged breath mixed with mine, his head tilted so his nose just lightly grazed my own. "Those don't sound like flaws, baby. They sound like walls. Walls are there to protect, to keep you safe."

My eyes flicked up to his, those golden slivers shaded by thick lashes that were too beautiful to belong to this man. My heart couldn't take it. My heartbeat stuttered, only pounding when the heat of his lips grazed mine. I lunged. My lips collided with his, his groan sounded akin to relief.

Hunter pulled me to straddle his lap, the hard outlines of our erections meeting as he allowed me to take control. Control was one thing I didn't have when it came to Hunter Graves. My body was in charge, my mind was lost in a cloud of lust.

I took his face in my hands, pouring every ounce of my pent-up frustration into that kiss. His hands dug into my hips, guiding me to rock against his thick length.

"Fuck, baby."

His cries only fueled me. My hands moved, pressing heavily against his chest. The need to feel every crevice of his hard curves consumed me. I'd noticed them during workouts. I spent an extensive amount of time studying the hard lines I wanted to map out with my tongue. I found the hem of his shirt, working my hands underneath and guiding it up and over his head.

Hunter watched, eyes dark and heavy with lust. I only spared a moment to bite his bottom lip before I worked my way back down, doing exactly what I'd fantasized about. His smell, his taste had me high. His hands tightened on my hips as if he didn't want me to go too far. Though as I bridged his pants, he let me move. I nipped at the trail that led right to what I wanted, dipping lower… lower… lower….

"Ty… Tyler, fuck, fuck, fuck! What are you doing to me?"

I tugged his pants and boxers down with a little less finesse than I cared for, biting the inside of his thighs and then soothing the sting with my tongue. Hunter's whimper was music to my ears. That was my name on his lips, giving me the power to take him. I was inexperienced, but I hope I made up for it with my pure need for him. I licked a stripe up the underside of his cock and I couldn't tell you who's groan was louder. His salty taste hit my tongue, mixing with sweat and musk and… Hunter. It was too fucking good.

"Ty, God."

I chuckled, taking him in my mouth, alternating licking and sucking as I took him down inch by inch. I wanted more—I wanted to choke on him. But when he hit the back of my throat and triggered my gag reflex, he pulled me back by my hair "Take it easy, baby. You're doing great."

I only groaned in response because I was determined. This may be my last chance to do this and I wanted to make him come undone. The selfish, competitive, perfectionist inside me needed this to be the best he ever had. I had given in to being with him, and damn it I wasn't going to make myself live with the "what ifs.".

I needed this— needed him—out of my system.

I eased my mouth over him, loving the feel of his cut cock. The weight was heavy on my tongue, The deep, heady feeling taking over my senses. My tongue traced every vein, paying close attention to which ones made his hips jerk. I relaxed my throat and rolled his balls in my palm. As Hunter cried, I hollowed my cheeks, tongue flicking at the base of his cock.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

He swelled and throbbed in my mouth. I pulled back so his come could splash my tongue. I licked him right through his orgasm, aftershocks wracking his body. I licked until he pushed my head away, where I peered up between his thighs with a devilish grin as my tongue darted out for just one more taste.

Sensitive, he hissed and tugged me away with a rough grip on my hair.

So worth it.