Chapter Five

With Storm missing over three months of the season, he had been ordered to do one extra private practice a week. He might have been bitter about that if Barrett hadn’t decided he would accompany him. Storm was hyper aware of Barrett sitting in the stands and that was a good thing. A weight was gone from his chest that had been sitting there for too long. Being beneath Barrett’s stare was familiar. Freeing.

A tall, lanky guy with light brown hair waited for Storm on the ice. He smiled when Storm joined him. With his hand extended, he met Storm halfway. “You must be Storm. I’m Booker. I’m the head coach of the Chuckers’ sled team.”

Storm shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, as well.” Booker didn’t waste too much time on formalities. “Since my team practices on Wednesdays and I’m already here, the owner and coaching staff decided to pair you with me for your extra practice. I hope that’s okay.”

Storm nodded. He didn’t know Booker, but he knew a little about the Chuckers' sled team. “That’s fine. You’ve obviously done an amazing job with your team. They’ve won more than their fair share of ships.”

Booker’s smile said it all. He was proud of his team. “That credit goes more to my husband than me.”

Storm’s eyebrows rose. “Your husband is part of the team?”

“Yep. Dash is pretty unstoppable.”

“Not Dash Robertson? The former rugby player?”

Booker nodded. “That’s the one.”

Storm couldn’t stop smiling. The more Booker spoke, the more comfortable Storm felt. It was hard to be gay in a male-driven sport. “That’s awesome.”

Booker beamed. “It seems we’ll get along fine. Are you ready to get started?”

Storm gave him a nod.

“All right.” Booker pointed toward the net. “Coach Murphy’s biggest concern right now is accuracy after your injuries. We’ll work on that today. Then we’ll sneak in a few minutes of endurance. Four months is a long time when it comes to sixty minutes of nonstop skating.”

Storm didn’t want anyone to think he had been slacking. “I’ve been running on the treadmill every day, trying not to lose my stamina. Obviously, it’s not the same, but you know.”

Booker nodded. “That’s good. It’s definitely better than nothing. I’ll set up radar and we’ll do some speed tests. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.” Storm skated toward the net while Booker set him up for practice. He blocked out everything and got to work. Storm did everything Booker asked, giving him his all. Sweat dripped from his hair by the time Booker blew his whistle.

Storm skated his way.

Booker jotted down some notes before meeting Storm’s stare. “You did great. I’ve made a list of some suggestions for next week.” He visibly hesitated before pushing on. “Since you’re here, I assume you’ve been cleared to drive. If not, I’d be happy to give you a lift home.”

It was obvious Booker didn’t know if he should touch on the reason they were here. Storm didn’t know if he could handle that either. He decided to let Booker in another way. Storm pointed toward where Barrett sat. “It’s okay. My man is with me. I can drive, but—admittedly—the meds they put me on make me feel awful sometimes.” Barrett had also been taking Storm to therapy twice a week, but he left that part out.

Booker looked toward Barrett. He nodded. “I’m glad you’re not alone.” He wrote something at the bottom of his paperwork and tore off the tiny square to hand to Storm. “Here. This is my personal number. If… Sorry, I don’t know your man’s name.”

“Barrett,” Storm supplied.

Booker nodded. “If you’re not up to driving and Barrett can’t bring you, call me. This franchise is your family now.” He clasped the clipboard with both hands and shifted nervously. “I won’t pry, and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter to me why you did what you did, but I coach sled for a reason. If I know nothing else, I understand how hockey can save someone’s life, even at their lowest. It saved mine.” Booker swallowed. “After my mom passed away, I grew up in an abusive household and this was my only escape. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m around. You have people here who care about you. If you need more time on the ice to save your sanity, call. Dash and I will gladly work you into the ground.”

A loud laugh burst from Storm.

Booker smiled and turned away. He gave Barrett a wave before heading for the tunnel. Storm took a breath and looked Barrett’s way. For the first time in years, he thought he might be okay.

Barrett stared at his phone, trying to find the right words. Every day, he suffered, pacing the floor and just trying to find a way to get to Storm before he lost him. Storm had been injured in his last game. Barrett was scared shitless and desperately wanted to head straight to Vegas. But Vegas was Kapra territory. That was something Storm didn’t understand. Barrett was a Cattaneo. Cattaneo owned Toronto. Not Vegas. He couldn’t walk into Vegas without permission. He had to try something, though.

Barrett: Did you ever talk to Zander Kapra for me? Storm got hurt. That’s where I should be.

Dad : Storm is working his job. Just like you should be doing right now. Stop expecting his world to revolve around you. He worked damn hard for that job. Let him do it.

Goddamn it. It was like his dad never heard him. This was more than expecting Storm to drop everything for him. He didn’t know how to make his dad see it and he didn’t know how much longer Storm would wait.

Barrett conducted business on his phone while keeping one eye on Storm’s practice. He smiled a lot more than usual. On one hand, Barrett was beyond relieved to see him doing better. On the other, Barrett was a jealous bastard. He tried keeping those toxic emotions under control. Barrett was possessive and controlling. He knew all those things about himself. In his family, they killed for their keep. People were assets, enemies, or property. Storm made him better, but—in some ways—he made Barrett worse. Deadlier. Until Storm was out of uniform and back at his side, Barrett’s shoulders didn’t relax.

Storm wore a bright smile as he overcame Barrett. His hair was still wet from the shower. Barrett didn’t hesitate to bury his fingers in the locks and hold on when Storm came in for a kiss. Storm always stole his breath. When Storm pulled away, Barrett almost didn’t let him go. His heart still hadn’t recovered from the past few years’ damage.

“Are you ready to head home?”

At Storm’s question, Barrett stood. “Absolutely. How did things go?”

Storm chuckled. “You were here for it.”

Barrett shrugged. “I’ve been working, so I didn’t see every second.”

One of the greatest things about Storm, he had never judged. He simply smiled as if he didn’t love a criminal. “At least you weren’t bored. It went well, I think.”

Hand in hand, they headed for the door. Storm chattered about what he had learned. He sounded excited to hear what plans Booker had for his improvement. Barrett nodded along. Storm sounded happy. That was all that mattered to Barrett. As they stepped into the parking garage, Barrett spotted the Booker guy Storm had been rattling on about. The guy laughed and played around with some guy in a wheelchair. He pulled Booker into his lap, causing a loud yelp to rent the air as he spun the chair in a circle. The sound was swallowed by a kiss. A tension Barrett hadn’t realized he still carried slipped away at the sight. Storm was in good hands.

They had no choice but to head in the pair’s direction. Barrett’s car was parked nearby. As they approached, the pair looked their way. Booker waved them closer.

Storm smiled. “Holy shit. He really is married to Dash Robertson.”

“Who?”

Storm glanced his way. His eyes swam with happiness. “Dash Robertson. He was a ridiculously famous rugby player before a car accident paralyzed him. Now he’s a sled hockey Olympian. He plays for the Chuckers' sled team.”

Barrett had never really gotten into sports other than funding Storm’s sanity. Every word Storm spoke sounded like gibberish to him. “Oh. I take it we’re excited to meet him.”

A laugh burst from Storm, making Barrett smile. He would do whatever it took to keep Storm exactly like this. They crossed the parking lot.

As they reached the pair, Storm jumped into introductions. “Hey. Booker, this is Barrett. Barrett, Booker.” He motioned between them.

Booker patted his husband’s chest. “This is Dash. Dash, Storm and Barrett.”

Dash’s cognac eyes flashed with good humor. He looked like a genuinely nice and happy person. They shook hands. Booker made no attempt to leave his husband’s lap. They loved each other. It was on display for anyone to see. Barrett could trust Storm in his company.

“It’s truly an honor to meet you. I saw all your games back in your rugby days.”

Dash nodded at Storm’s words. “It’s good to meet you as well. The entire Chuckers franchise was excited as hell when you chose to leave Vegas and sign with us. Everyone expects good things. You were amazing in Vegas. Here, playing with Medvedkov too, the team could go all the way.”

Storm didn’t stop smiling. Still, Barrett held his breath and eyed Storm. He didn’t need that sort of pressure on him right now.

Booker obviously felt the same. He changed the subject. “What do you two have planned for the rest of your night?”

Storm shrugged and looked Barrett’s way. They exchanged a glance. Storm answered for them. “Nothing. We’ll probably just head home.”

“Come to dinner with us instead,” Dash offered. “There’s a Cuban place nearby we love. We’d love for you two to join us.”

They exchanged another glance. Storm looked hopeful. Barrett smiled and answered for them. “We’d love to. We can follow you there.”

Storm’s happiness made anything at all worthwhile. He would do whatever Storm needed. Barrett just needed him whole.