7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tanner

"So, Myron," I opened with, pulling a look from the physical therapist I was seeing today. Myron was an old hand with a gruff style that I liked. Many other patients found him to be too abrasive, but not me. He reminded me of one of my coaches back in high school. He said what he said, and that was that. Sometimes it was cruel, but it was always honest. "It's been a month since surgery. What can I do to help push this recovery along? I'd like to be on the ice by August, if at all possible."

He rubbed his bald head as I did some miles. Another guy was here, and he was working on coming back from carpal tunnel surgery, bringing the pulleys over his head as he sat with his back against the wall. An older woman was getting some time in on a bike after hip surgery. Her name was Mona. She had told me as we waited for our appointments. She was seventy and had a new bionic hip that she was quite happy to talk about with a total stranger.

"I'd be okay with you taking more time on a treadmill, elliptical, and step machines. Your range of motion is good, and you've done well with light weights."

"What about yoga?" I chanced and got a small nod of a glistening dome.

"Light restorative yoga. No kneeling. Use of props to ease you into the positions. I'd like to talk to the teacher you'd be practicing under to ensure she knew your limitations and medical history."

"It would be a he," I corrected as I pedaled along a scenic country lane in France. "I'll have him contact you here."

"Sounds good. Now give me another mile or two, then we're going to cool down and work a massage in before you go."

Smiling like a jack-o-lantern, I pushed myself through another two miles. Four weeks into my recovery, and I was feeling good. I could drive now. Walking was coming along well for the most part with a little stiffness after I sat for too long, but my gait was strong and normal. It would be another week or so and I was confident that we'd start ramping up things in terms of getting me back on the ice next season. I could do it, I was sure, but my surgeon was being a stickler and kept pulling me back when I started chomping at the bit. I knew that most athletes could return to their sport anywhere from six to twelve months, but some came back at five. So August was probably not a realistic goal, I know, but I was using it as a marker of sorts. My surgeon was giving me a maybe-of-possibly-returning-to-the-ice date of late December if he and my team felt I was healed well enough.

I was ready to go full gangbusters and get released from this general rehab to a sports-related one that would focus on my recovery in terms of returning to play. My doctor had wanted me to go this route fearing I would push too hard too fast in a sports- dictated regime. He also had dropped a nugget about my age, which I had pretended not to hear. Yeah, I knew I'd not bounce back at thirty-eight like I would have at twenty, but I wasn't doddering quite yet.

No lie, I loved the rubdowns after a hard therapy session. Feeling good and full of myself, I left the medical center in Corning, slid behind the wheel of my SUV, and chucked my cane to the passenger seat. I barely required it anymore, but Rudy insisted I take it along when I went out. I think my brother knew his time as my nurse and personal groomer was coming to an end. He had to be thrilled. I knew Wade was ready to have him home as well.

When I pulled up in front of Williams Wellness, I was walking on sunshine. Actually, I was limping on sunshine but okay. Improvement was lifting my spirits. I'll confess to being pretty sour over this injury. It cost me the chance to help my team battle for the championship. No matter what we say to the press, it is not the same as sitting on the sidelines. We want to be on the ice. The whispers from the media that this surgery might just be the kiss of death to my career as a Gladiator floated around me like ghostly whispers in the night. I'd be damn if I retired without reaching that milestone. I'd never once been part of a championship team in all my years. We'd come close. Damn close. But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades to quote Frank Robinson.

June had started off pleasant but now was a humid monster. Over the course of two days, the moisture in the air had climbed. Making my way into the air-conditioned gym cooled me instantly. The place was hopping. I caned my way to the front desk, smiling at Mrs. Williams as I neared. She seemed to have made the reception area her new home. Key was doing his best to gently nudge her back to retirement as he was slowly but surely filling in his meager employee roster. Mrs. Williams was not having it.

"Well, look at you moving like a cheetah," she said as I reached the check-in to smile down at her.

"If cheetahs moved like I do, they'd starve. The gazelles would be laughing and pointing their hooves at me, lumbering along."

"Oh now, you stop that. Keyshaun tells me that you're doing well and should be skating in no time."

"From his mouth to the hockey god's ears," I replied just as the phone rang. I motioned for her to answer it and leaned on the counter. Key was nowhere to be seen as he had left yesterday with Ornell to see the proposed site for the Buffalo Williams Wellness in person before finalizing the deal.

The door opened and four guys walked in and came to the check-out desk. I moved aside, out of the way, and took a seat on a stationary bike to wait it out. Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Williams rolled her eyes at me. I got to my feet and returned to her desk.

"Good lord that was a run. I swear people come in packs. So, did you need anything, honey?"

"I wanted to sign up for some yoga lessons with Keyshaun." She gave me a raised eyebrow. "I have clearance from my therapist, but he wants to talk to Key, anyway. I'll clear this all up with him as soon as I talk to him, obviously, but since the classes fill up so fast, I wanted to get into the next one."

"Etta likes to keep the classes small so she can observe and instruct each student, also the room only holds so many." She looked around. "What did I do with my glasses? Well, pooh. I must have left them at home. That's fine. Let's open up the document thingy here." She bent down low. Her nose was nearly resting on the screen of the desktop. "All these lines want to run together. Oh, we have one opening Monday morning at nine?"

"Perfect. Put me in for that class."

"Will do." She typed away and got a ping from the computer. "Guess I did that right!"

I chuckled, chatted for a bit, and eased out of the gym to go home, shower, and rest. The Gladiators were back in town after tying up the best of the seven series with the Boulder Badgers. They were playing game seven tomorrow night in Watkins Glen. Tonight, they had a night of rest and a bachelor party planned for Liam. Not sure how resting and carousing fit together, but when you left party planning up to Greck, you had to expect chaotic results. None of us knew where we were going or what we were doing, which had Bean, Sunny, and Basky in fits. Me? I was just along for the ride and the laughs.

I sent off a text to Key to tell him I missed him and dropped my phone in the cup holder for the ride home. Man, was it nice to be mobile again. No relying on Rudy to haul me around or help me into the shower. My brother was heading north in two days. He wanted to do the party tonight and the game tomorrow night before returning to his beloved to resume his life. I'd never be able to repay him for his nursing skills and companionship during a rough time.

Walking in the door at home was a joyous event for the dogs.

"Okay, calm it down," I said as I waded through bouncing canines, tails wagging madly, working my way to the kitchen for some lunch before I sat with some ice on my knee. "You'd think I'd been gone for months. It was only two hours."

Elinor ran off to find a toy while Bingley snorted/snuffled in indignation until I bent over to rub his wrinkled head. Darcy and Elizabeth raced off in glee.

Bingley trotted along behind me as I entered the kitchen. Rudy was prepping some tuna salad for lunch. I'd miss having someone cook for me, that was for sure. Maybe I could sweet talk Key into filling my belly. That man knew his way around a kitchen.

"Okay, so can you please text Greck one more time and ask him where the hell we're going tonight? How can I know what to wear if I don't know the venue?" Rudy slapped a spoonful of mayo into the bowl of tuna with attitude. "Do I dress up or down or pull out some glam?"

"He's not going to tell us. Can you find something that works for most occasions?" I plunked my butt down on a stool at the island. "Maybe something middle of the road?" He threw me a scathing look over his shoulder. He'd put his bright red hair up into curlers. "Right, okay, sorry. I forgot you don't do middle of the road."

"I do not. Now, text that chatty friend of yours and demand to know what we should wear."

With a roll of my eyes—thank God I was a low-maintenance guy—I sent a message to Greck. "Done. Now, can we talk about cabin time?"

"What about it? I assumed you'd be spending more time here since you and Keyshaun are seeing each other."

"Well…yeah, I think I'll be hanging here longer than usual. Do not say a word." He moved to the island, smirk in place, and slid a bowl of tuna salad with celery to me. "I like him. I know I'm probably putting my cart so far in front of the horse that the poor nag can't even see it."

"No, honey, I think you're doing the right thing. That old cabin—"

"It's new."

"Yes, whatever. That new cabin will be sitting there when you want to spend some time there. I can ask Wade if he wants to spend some time there. I know he likes to paddle around on the lake. This new place does have a decent shower and screens in the windows, right? You know how I feel about cold baths and biting bugs."

He fished a loaf of bread out of the fridge along with some bottled water, pickles, and a bag of chips from the cupboard before climbing up beside me.

"Yes, yes, and yes." I spread the tuna on a slice of wheat and then plunked another slice on top of it. "Maybe I could ask Key if he wanted to go, but then that would look pushy. And he's busy now with the new place and—"

He slapped me on the back of my hand with his mayo-covered butter knife. "Stop it. And do not lick that off." I licked it off. "Oh my gods, you are such a beast." He tossed a napkin at my face and swung around to look at me. "I know you're fond of him, and he is feeling all the feels over you. Don't let your past lovers and your shyness keep you locked up in this big, empty house with only dogs for company." Bingley farted at my feet. "Case in point."

"Dogs are man's best friend," I countered quickly and dove into my sandwich in the hopes that if I had a mouthful, he'd stop preaching.

"I know, and I adore them, but you need someone to talk to."

"The dogs talk to me. They're just as much company as a man and they won't break your heart."

Darcy ambled in with a sock in his jowls. Elizabeth was attached to the loose end. The sock was one of my good ones or had been. Elinor arrived in a flurry with a bookend. Rudy leaped up, removed the bookend from her slobbery mouth, and then washed it and his hands.

"When was the last time you had to remove a brass bookend from a lover's mouth?" Rudy asked, and when I had no reply, he sniffed in supremacy and then began cutting his sandwich into fours. "Case two in point. I'm not nagging—"

"Sounds like nagging to me," I mumbled as I tossed a crust to Darcy, who inhaled it. Chewing was for cats.

"It's not. It's brotherly advice."

"Uh-huh."

"All I'm saying is that you and Keyshaun fit quite handsomely." My phone buzzed. "That might be Greck. Check." He tapped the battered cell with his quarter of a sandwich.

"He's not going to tell us. It's a secret surprise." I sighed but picked up the phone and read the text. It was from Key, not Greck, and I grinned at the image of him in the middle of a vacant building holding a piece of paper reading FUTURE SITE OF WILLIAMS WELLNESS BUFFALO in one hand and a hot wing in the other.

His smile was megawattage bright. My heart did this funny, twisty thing in my chest.

Congrats to the Franchise King! I can say I knew him when. *winky emoji* ~ T

You can say you kissed him when. *winky emoji* ~ K

Mm, kissing Key sounded great. I wished he was here now so I could taste those sweet lips of his, but I'd have to wait another day. We chatted for a few minutes before he had to get his serious businessman face on for the signing of the papers. Then he and his brother were going out to celebrate with a late dinner and cocktails at a comedy club. He'd be back in the Glen tomorrow around noon, just in time for game seven.

"Nothing from Greck?" Rudy asked. I shook my head. He mumbled and grumbled, then went up to find something fitting for a night out doing who knew what.

***

When we pulled up in front of the Schaffer Salt Arena about thirty men were milling about outside a charter bus. All the players and several of the coaching staff had shown up. Not the head coach or the higher-level assistants, but a few trainers were here.

"Hey, Fossie and Rudy! We were wondering if you were coming." Greck peeled from the crowd of players clad in shorts and a bright purple T-shirt with a hockey stick and a checkered flag on the front. Above the stick and flag, bright yellow letters read POLKMAN-HAYES BACHELOR PARTY ZOOM ZOOM!

"Oh gods, that is terrible," Rudy whispered as Greck raced at us, T-shirts in his hand. "Whoever thought of matching tees should be criminally prosecuted."

"I think I got the right sizes for you two. If you'd a been here earlier, you would have gotten first dibs on sizes, but I think a medium should fit Rudy and I know an XXXL will go over your fat head, Fossie!" Greck slapped the shirts into our chests. "Don't you love them shirts? I ordered them from my third cousin, Veronica. She does T-shirts in her house. She gave me a big discount since we're family and all. Sunny said he loves them, and Tarcy said he ain't never seen a purple so purple and then blessed my heart, which is Southern for he loves them too. Once you get dressed, we'll get on the bus."

He clapped me on the shoulder and headed back to the throng of men. Most were still holding their shirts, but after some encouragement from Bean, the guys tugged on the shirts. Henri looked a little uptight in his T-shirt while Pastor Gabe was beaming. Seeing as my defensive partner's clergyman boyfriend was here, I had to assume no strippers or drunken tomfoolery were on the agenda, which was fine. The guys had a huge game tomorrow. This party was a double sort of win as it would release some tension over the final game of the season while affording the guys who would split after we ended this season a chance to party with the groom-to-be.

"Okay, you garbanzo beans, all need to get on the bus!" Greck yelled at the top of his lungs while waving madly. We all filed onto the charter, enjoying the AC and plush seats.

Liam and Tarcy were in the front behind the driver, each clad in purple shirts and matching purple and yellow ball caps that read GROOM and GROOM.

They both smiled at me. Rudy was muttering about trying to make purple match his bright green sundress with flowery leggings.

"There is no matching it," I said and dropped down beside the good pastor while DJ was two rows back jawing at Basky, who was going solo as Marcus was at a charity fundraiser for the Comets tonight. Rudy threw his bright red hair over his shoulder before leaning up to speak with Bean and his man, Criswell.

"You look like you're feeling much better than you did when I visited you in the hospital," Pastor Gabe pointed out.

"I am, and thanks for stopping by. I was kind of out of it, but Rudy said you and him had a nice talk about Christ's healing powers, and it made him feel far less anxious."

"I'm glad. As it says in Jeremiah, ‘I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.' Hearing that the words of our Lord bring those worrying or suffering some small bit of calm in a trying time warmed me. That's my job. Spreading the gospel, counseling those in my flock who are sick or sad, and enjoying a mystery bus ride with my boyfriend and his teammates."

"Bachelor parties are part of your job?" I teased and got a hearty chuckle from the handsome pastor.

"No, not really, but I so wanted to get a purple T-shirt." He winked just as Deandre returned. I went to stand, but my friend placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Sit," DJ said as he flopped down next to Rudy after my brother scooted over. "We don't want to make the elderly give up their aisle seats. You may need to get to the bathroom when the prune juice kicks in and with that cane…"

"If I weren't sitting next to a reverend, I'd tell you what you can do with your prune juice," I snarled playfully. Man, it was good to be back on a bus with these yahoos.

Greck finally climbed on after the last player was seated and with a grin told the driver to get this party bus rolling. With a lurch, the bus pulled out of the parking lot. Laughter and manly chatter carried us along for over an hour. As soon as we saw that big sign announcing we were at a casino, a cheer went up. For three hours, we enjoyed some light gambling. I broke even, which was about the norm for me at the poker tables. Rudy was splitting his time between the bar where they had, and I quote my brother, ‘The best mango mojitos on the planet. Oh my God, I want to marry this mojito!' and the slot machines. Tipsy he may have been, but he won over two hundred bucks before it was time to roll onto the next stop.

We pulled up to a waffle house. Tarcy was ecstatic.

We dug into some mighty fine waffles, the server hustling her backside off to feed a large group of hungry puck pushers. We tipped her incredibly well.

After we had filled our bellies with waffles, we were off to our final destination, a cigar shop in Corning with an outdoor smoking lounge. Part of the package was that we each got to choose one cigar. Knowing nothing about cigars, I got what everyone else was getting, a fat stogie from Cuba, and made my way to the veranda. There were tables set up with four chairs each, umbrellas, and huge glass ashtrays. Small lights in the wooden floorboards illuminated the porch. I took a seat with my now giddy brother, DJ, and Pastor Gabe. Rudy was a gabby thing when he was drunk, so he only sat with us for a few minutes then went off to chit-chat with Henri and Greck.

I sat back, lit my stogie, and took care not to inhale the smoke. The cigar shop staff had been adamant about that.

DJ did the same. We both made yucky faces. Pastor Gabe, one of the few smart ones, had declined to smoke and was happy just sitting here among the team in his purple T-shirt.

"So this is something different," I tossed out after sniffing my cigar. That's a thing, right? I've seen people in movies do it.

"Yeah. I'm not sure we should allow Greck to do web searches anymore." DJ struck a match and began puffing to get his cigar lit. Gabe wrinkled his nose at the cloud of smoke before leaning back in his chair to find some fresh air. DJ made a terrible face. The owner of the shop had snipped ends, so I followed suit, striking a match and then making like a steam engine. The taste was not pleasant at all.

"I second that. Still, he did dig up something other than bouncing boobies and gin joints, so stick taps for the originality?" I blew out some smoke as the sound of masculine conversation filled the patio. It was rather relaxing, to be honest. Gabe nodded. DJ made a smoke ring that floated over his head like a halo.

"It's all good," DJ said. "Well, the vibe is good. This cigar? I'm not sure about."

Gabe leaned up to look around his boyfriend. "So, rumor has it that you and Keyshaun are dating. How's that going?"

I stared at DJ. Hard. He shrugged. "What? I talk to my man. Sue me. And since the topic has come up, how is it going with Key?"

"Well. It's going well." I stared at the glowing end of my cigar. A soft wind blew into the patio, lifting the thick gray smoke, and DJ's halo, up and away.

"Just well?" DJ asked, tapping an ash into the ashtray. Gabe said nothing, just sat there, face soft and open, listening. "That's kind of…" he lifted a shoulder, "blasé?"

"It's not blasé. He's hot. We're all into each other big time. We're just…" And here I faltered because a big tough man should not be mincing around with hand holding and watching Sense and Sensibility when he could be rutting like a bull elk in the fall. Emma Thompson though, I mean, who cannot watch her on repeat? "We're just taking our time as we move through the courtship phase."

DJ stared at me as if I had a tambourine playing porcupine on my head. "Courtship? Are you two courting like…like this is Bridgerton ? Ouch! What?!" He threw a look at Gabe who, it seemed, had kicked him under the table. "Thou shalt not pinch your boyfriend's booty. That's one of the commandments of love."

"It was a small pinch. An affection tweak," Gabe neatly parried. A young man moved through the cigar smokers, asking if they needed another cigar or a light. Some took him up on the offer. Henri, I noted, seemed to be quite into his cigar. "I think courting someone is a wonderful way to glide into a possible relationship. Not everyone has to jump and hump on the first date."

"Wow, that's quite the terminology from a pastor," I said after the shock wore off. Did I know Gabe and DJ got jiggy with it? Yep. I tried not to think about that, though. DJ was my defensive partner and Gabe was…well…a man of God. Stupid, yes, I know, but trying to visualize them doing it was like trying to visualize my brother and Wade getting down and dirty. No thanks. Just no.

"I try to stay fresh and hip," Gabe teased.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have been so judgy. If you're not comfortable with casual sex without a bond that is totally cool. You do Tanner and don't worry about what other guys are doing when and with whom. Gabe and I took a long time sorting stuff out until things got physical."

"Well, yeah, I mean, he's a pastor. I didn't think he'd be jumping your bones on the first date. But I'm not clergy. I've just…well, I've always had to have a bond first, then the sex felt right. That's weird, eh?"

"No, you're not weird at all, but you might be demi. Ever think of that?" DJ was now trying to scrape the taste of the cigar from his tongue with his teeth.

"No." I puffed on my cigar, unsure if I was really enjoying it or not. The taste it left in my mouth was not pleasant. And even though we were seated outside the cigar shop, the smoke was lingering again. "I'm not really into this whole thing," I commented with a wave of my Havana.

"Nah, me either."

"Anyone else's mouth taste like you licked the underbelly of a '77 Plymouth?" Greck called out and just about every Gladiator answered in a positive. Liam was looking a little green around the gills, but Tarcy seemed to be enjoying his puff. I bet he had smoked a few stogies in celebration over the years. Birth of kids, winning races, that sort of thing. "Okay, well, if you're not feeling the cigars, feel free to extinguish. This was on an internet list of fun things to do for a bachelor party that didn't include naked titties. Shit, I said titties. Sorry, pastor!"

"No apologies required. I have nothing against breasts," Gabe shouted from the other side of Deandre. The straight guys all snickered naughtily. "My wife had them," he added as an aside to our private little conversation. "And just to back up what Deandre said about sexual relations, it's fine to move at your own pace, Tanner. Each of us is a beautiful and unique person, and trying to live our lives to fit a cookie cutter of what the world thinks is proper masculine behavior is not only exhausting but crippling. If you and Keyshaun are exploring each other emotionally before diving into a physical relationship, that's the perfect way to proceed. Better is a poor person who walks in his integrity than one who is crooked in speech and is a fool."

I blinked at the pastor. DJ beamed and then smooched Gabe on his cheek. "What he said," DJ added. "That's why I knock people around for a living and my man gives sermons."

"Well, that last bit wasn't me. That's found in Proverbs. I just borrowed it. I don't think the Lord will mind," Gabe replied with a soft smile. The man was so serene. Talking to God on the daily probably did that for a soul.

"Thanks, I really appreciate you guys talking this out with me," I confessed while grinding my cigar out in a fancy glass ashtray.

"Anytime. You and I are partners. Come to me whenever." DJ held up a fist. I rapped it.

"The same goes for me. My door is always open. Feel free to come to the Tabernacle or our home if you have need of counsel. It matters not if you come to church every Sunday or never come at all. My services are for the entire community, not just the chosen few who drop coins into the plate," Gabe said.

"You're a good pastor. Wish more were like you. If they were, I bet the number of people going to church would be rising instead of falling," I said, leaned up to bump fists with the good pastor, and then looked up to see Rudy swaying my way. I sighed. "I told him to go light on the mango mojitos at the casino, but would he listen? Nope. Pardon me while I steer my brother to the bus."

Rudy was giggly the entire way back to Watkins Glen. Then he got morose, which was standard drunken Rudy behavior, and ended up crying to Wade over the phone. I put him to bed after taking off his sandals. He'd be mad that he had worn makeup to bed. His pillowcase would be a mess of lipstick and eyeliner. He could blame that on the mojitos.

When I crawled into bed, weary, stinking of cigar smoke, but smiling over the night spent with my team, I found a short but sweet text waiting for me from Keyshaun.

Had some laughs, ate a decent meal, and am in bed. I wish you were here. The laughs are deeper, the food better, and the wine sweeter. See you tomorrow. ~ K

My dick got hard instantly. Now that there was the kind of stuff that got me randy. Emotions did me in every time. Maybe I was sort of demi. I'd never really looked into anything past being gay, but perhaps I should research it more. Not that I cared about the labels. I knew what I wanted and needed from a man. A connection that went beyond getting your rocks off.

I can't wait. Kisses and cuddles with the dogs are great but they're greater with you. ~ T

I turned off the light, tossed my phone to the table, and had a hand on my prick before the room went dark. Then, I stalled. Nope, I was going to wait. I could hold out another day. My dick was surly about that about-face but soon gave up and went to sleep. After I moved a few dogs, I followed suit, drifting off to dreams of kissing Keyshaun.