So Like, How Do We Do This? （23）

"This is…I hope you know we're both going straight to hell," Ryan stated, as he used a baby blanket from JT's diaper bag to mop up the mess they'd made, after having cleaned himself up with about half the pack of baby wipes. "Do not pass GO, do not collect $200. And if we weren't going before, we for sure are after tonight."

Hayes tossed Ryan his shorts and boxers as he finished pulling his own pants back on. "Yeah, well. I'm gonna have a fuck ton to answer for as it is. Might as well add one more cum-covered romp in our friend's SUV after sneaking out of rehab to the list, eh?"

Ryan threw the blanket and wadded up wipes into a pile, turned off the overhead reading light, and sat on the floor with his back against the backseat. "Hey. Come here," he reached for Hayes, patting between his splayed legs. Both of them still shirtless, Hayes turned around and leaned up against Ryan so his back rested on his chest. Ryan wrapped both his arms around him, Hayes clutching Ryan's forearms.

"Rook, this feels so good."

"I don't ever wanna let you go, Hayes."

"Then don't."

"You know I have to. We…I have to get you back."

"I know that."

"How'd you do it, anyway? Get out, I mean. You walk right through the front door, or..."

Hayes sighed. "I had Dora cover for me. Launched myself over the courtyard fence while she distracted the courtyard monitors. No clue if they caught me on camera or not. Then I just fuckin' ran. I…I needed to see you, Rook."

"I'm sorry…Dora? Who the hell is Dora?"

"She's this older lady I kinda connected with today. She's dope as fuck. She's almost seventy, Cuban, and sassy as shit. Calls me Morao, which means purple in Spanish, I think. Like Purple Haze? Anyway, she's teaching me how to crochet. Ganchillo. I'm gonna be makin' an orange whale for JT. It's the easiest fuckin' thing to make apparently."

Ryan laughed, shaking his head.

"What?" Hayes asked defensively.

"What you just said? All that? It sounds…insane, honestly. But I'm glad you're connecting with someone finally."

"I just know I'm gonna be gone soon, so I don't see a point in gettin' too close to anyone is all. She sought me out, though. Broke me down, man. Recognized me from the group meetings and forced me outta my shell."

"Always those older women," Ryan teased.

"Um, no. It's not even like that. She's a grandma, dude. For real."

"I know. I'm fucking with you. So the meetings: how are those going?" Ryan raised a hand to Hayes's head, dragging his fingers through his hair lazily as they talked, little whimpers involuntarily escaping Hayes.

"They're alright, I guess. It's a lot of what they call cognitive behavioral therapy. Identifying how fucked up some of my thought patterns have become throughout all this, learning different ways to cope when I have cravings and shit."

"Yeah, I do a lot of that with Dr. Gephart, too. Changing the way you think is a real bitch, huh?"

"You ain't kiddin'. But that's the bulk of it. It's the same stuff I do with Dr. Rosa. I didn't realize it, but I really needed to change my thinkin'. The drugs weren't just treatin' my shoulder pain. There was…there was a lot of mental pain I was numbin' with them, too. Still is. I just…gotta find different ways to deal with it now. Safer ways.

"Ryan, this was all lyin' dormant under the surface. I hid it for a really long time, pushed it down. Got away with not dealin' with it. It…it caught up with me, you know?"

Ryan brought his other hand to Hayes's head and ran both of them through his hair, causing him to drop his head back onto Ryan's shoulder. "Tyler? I hope you know how proud I am of you. OK, so you messed up. But you're bettering yourself, getting help. I'm so proud of you for that." Ryan rolled his face to the side and kissed Hayes's cheek. "Beyond proud."

"Thank you. And thank you for not leavin' me to do this on my own. I know I fucked up bad and I wouldn't have blamed you if you did."

"You made a mistake. OK? Let's be honest: I could fuck a million other people. You could fuck a million other people. Hayes, I'm…not going anywhere."

"So, can I call you my boyfriend again?"

Ryan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he removed his hands from Hayes's hair. "It's not that simple, Hayes."

Hayes scoffed, releasing his grip on Ryan's forearms. "Nah? Seems pretty simple to me, Rook. You just fucked me, you keep tellin' me how much you love me and that you ain't goin' anywhere. What's the issue?"

"What's the issue?" Ryan asked, becoming annoyed. "The issue? You lied. You lied to me about everything. Literally everything. For months. I need…I need…fuck, Hayes. I don't know what I need."

Hayes turned around to face Ryan, raking his hands slowly through Ryan's messy blond locks. "Whatever it is you need? Let me give it to you. I'm…gonna be better. I am better, Rook. I wanna be the one to give you whatever you need, not someone else. Me. Not some fuckin' random teammate."

Hayes paused for a moment, acknowledging the hypocrisy behind that statement, while Ryan teared up under the weight of indecision: dying to jump right back into Hayes's arms while also desperate to adhere to his new relationship boundaries.

"So like, how do we do this? Tyler: how do we do this?"

Hayes wrapped his arms around Ryan's neck, lifting his legs and settling himself into his lap, resting his head on Ryan's shoulder. "I don't have the first fuckin' clue, Rook. I just know that I love you more than anything and if you tell me to do somethin', I'll do it. I'll do it, Ryan. I don't wanna lose you. I wanna spend the rest of my life pissin' you right the fuck off."

Ryan snickered, kissing the top of Hayes's head. "How about this: you finish your inpatient treatment, we'll work on things through your sober living, and once we make sure you're in the right headspace, we can fix us. I just…need you better, Hayes. I need the old Tyler Hayes back. I miss him."

Hayes nodded, breathing deeply and closing his eyes, feeling his breath sync with Ryan's and melting into the feeling of their bodies moving slowly together. "He's still here. And he's still very much in love with you."

There was a short silence, with Ryan finally breaking it. "So, hey. I have to ask you something."

"Go for it, stud."

"What's the plan with TK? When all of this is over. How do you…I mean, are you gonna, like…" Ryan paused, frustrated.

Hayes trailed a few kisses along Ryan's neck. "When we're both done with our inpatient treatment, he's gonna look for a sober living home out this way. It won't be the same one I'm at, but close because we're gonna get ice time every day. Like, people in sober living leave during the day for their jobs and shit? The NHLPA has arranged for us to meet with coaches five days a week, hit dryland and get ice time so we can get back into playin' shape. That way when we're ready to transition back, we'll actually be ready. He's getting better too, Rook. He's made amazing progress. He really has. He's like, not even the same dude. In a good way."

"And that's great, but like, do you…do you still want him?"

"Do you, Rook?"

"That's…not…"

"Don't. Because I remember what happened that night on the floor of your shower, OK? And none of it was my idea."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably, trying to wiggle away, but Hayes took his face with both hands, forcing their noses to touch and forcing him to face the uncomfortable conversation he didn't want to have. "Ryan? Teek is my friend. He's my boy. Am I attracted to him? Yes. Fuckin' Helen Keller would be attracted to him. But I'm attracted to a lot of people. I'm only in love with you."

"Do you wanna hook up with him again?" Ryan asked quietly, their noses still touching. "Be honest with me, Hayes. Is that something you still want?"

Hayes nodded. "I mean…yeah. But if you and me are together? Not an option."

"So, hypothetically, if you and I were to stay broken up, would you go for it with him?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Hypo-what?"

"Seriously? You just busted out debauchery on me a few minutes ago. I thought I could start using my 20-point words now."

"Sorry. I'm a fuckin' dumbass, man."

"Hypothetically, meaning in theory, not real. So, in theory, if we stay broken up, are you going for him?"

Hayes nodded again. "Probably."

"Do you guys talk about it, when you talk to him?"

"Not really. I mean, we've…fuck," Hayes trailed off.

"What? You've what?" Ryan asked desperately.

"We've, like, done…a few things on Facetime together since we've been in treatment, just fuckin' around. He kinda…likes watchin' me jerk off. It's not a big deal."

Ryan became defensive. "Oh no? It's not a big deal?"

"No, it's not!" Hayes snapped. "Because we're not together at the moment because you're not ready. I am. You're not. Did you forget that part?"

Ryan had nothing to say.

"I'm sorry, Rook. It's just sex, I promise. I'm not in love with him."

"This sounds familiar," Ryan muttered before tilting his chin up and planting a small kiss on Hayes's lips. "Hence, why I'm not ready. He's not out of your system, Hayes. You know from what happened with you, Mar, and me that it won't work."

"I wanted it to be the three of us so bad, Rook. So did she. It was perfect when it was the three of us that night in the hotel room."

"Yeah, during the act it was. Afterwards was a giant fucking mess if you recall."

Hayes moved his face away from Ryan's. He didn't want to say what he was about to say, but he couldn't stop himself. "Listen, I know you want him, too. And believe me, he'd fuck with you. What if we, like, share him a little? Just for sex, I mean. We're…kinda into that now, right?"

Ryan's eyes widened as he reached for Hayes's hands and squeezed them, disappointed in himself and his stupid dick for even entertaining this insane idea, yet unable to say no. "And you don't love him? You swear?"

"On my life," Hayes said emphatically, raising one hand like he was swearing on a Bible. "He's just…and I don't even know, now that we ain't gonna have drugs to bond over anymore. Maybe it'll change our relationship. I don't know…"

Ryan just listened as Hayes trailed off, then finally spoke. "You wanna share him a little? Fine. But only in the bedroom, OK? This?" Ryan said, placing his hand flat against the left side of Hayes's chest. "Belongs to me. And I won't share it with anyone."

"I'd never put you in a position where you'd have to. Not to mention, you're the only fuckin' reason it beats, Ryan."

Ryan yawned, glancing at the clock and noticing that it was after 10 p.m. "We should get you back now," he said quietly, reaching for his shirt to put it back on as they both climbed back into the front seat.

Ryan shook his head as he buckled his seatbelt and started the Jeep.

This isn't how this day was supposed to go.

He'd made plans to hang out with a teammate, to get to know him better.

Instead, he'd fucked said teammate on a boat, found out his ex-boyfriend had escaped from rehab, fucked said ex-boyfriend in a Jeep, and had agreed to share said ex-boyfriend with the guy he'd cheated on him with.

Oh, look: another mess, brought to you by Ryan Baylor.

There was no way this was going to end well.

???

Ryan dropped Hayes off, making sure to remind him that he didn't have a phone at the moment so he didn't think he was ignoring him when his texts went unanswered.

"Listen to me," he warned him before letting him off at the front door. "You do whatever they tell you to, OK? There's a possibility you could get tossed for this, but there's also a possibility that they'll let this be your one screw up. Text Mar as soon as you can so I know what's going on. You understand? No mouthing off. ‘Yes, sir' and "No, ma'am.' Got it?"

Hayes had nodded before squeezing the life out of Ryan and doing the walk of shame up to the front entrance, which of course, was locked.

And who else was there to let him in but Alan.

Fucking Alan.

"Tyler Hayes,"he said, as he opened the door to let him in.

"Alan," he acknowledged, strolling past him.

"Was wondering when you'd grace us with your presence again. Dr. Rosa was really worried about you. We both were."

Hayes made a face. He wasn't exactly sure why he didn't like Alan, but it definitely caught him off guard hearing him say he was worried about him. "Yeah. I, uh…fell asleep. Out in the courtyard. And I, uh…" Hayes averted his gaze from Alan, who narrowed his eyes at him. "Fuck, dude. I fucked up, alright? I swear to God though, I'm clean as a whistle, man. Sober as a judge, all that shit. Test me right now. I swear. I…my ex-boyfriend was goin' out with another dude and I…never mind." He exhaled, defeated. "What kinda damage control am I lookin' at here?"

Alan shook his head. "Sneaking out of rehab? Not a good look, man. Most people get tossed for it."

Hayes rolled his eyes, letting his head dip forward and rubbing his forehead.

"Lucky for you though, the cameras…they've been, I don't know what's wrong. They've been acting wonky all day. Haven't recorded a thing since early this afternoon, and a couple things they recorded before that just…disappeared. Weird, right?"

Hayes's head shot up, his eyes locking with Alan's. "For real?"

Alan nodded. "For real. And I guess since Dr. Rosa and I are the only ones who know about your little escapade, and there's no proof that you left, I mean…"

"The fuck you sayin', Alan? Am I…am I good?"

Alan nodded. "Now get back to your room and go to sleep so I can turn them back on please. I put my ass on the line for you tonight, kid."

Hayes's eyes practically bulged out of his face, his heart racing. "Y-yeah. Alright. I mean…" He turned to walk down the hall to his room, then flipped back around toward Alan. "Thank you. I, but…why?"

Alan shrugged. "Isles fan since ‘83, bud. Now, you're gonna get yourself clean, stay clean, get back to that team, you and Kadin, and get us to the playoffs. Deal?"

Hayes smiled, nodding a few times and pointing at Alan. "Deal. Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it."

Wait: did he say me and Kadin?

He started to walk away but turned back toward Alan one more time. "Did you…I mean, you said Kadin. How did you…what have you heard about Teek?"

"Jesus, kid. Have you been on the internet? Everyone's talking about you and Kadin. And it's not good."

He really hadn't been on the internet, besides for his crocheting tutorials. Dr. Rosa had strongly advised against it, given his high profile and propensity toward depressive episodes. "Let them say what they're gonna say, Hayes. You know the truth. Just focus on getting yourself better right now."

"Alright, I gotta ask," Alan continued. "Did you two really gangbang a stripper on stage at a club while high on meth and total a Ferrari, or is that bullshit? That's gotta be bullshit."

Hayes gulped.

Great.

Turns out the PR efforts to keep this whole thing under wraps?

Yeah. They'd failed.

Miserably.

???

Ryan arrived back at Jake and Amara's around 11 p.m., after successfully dropping Hayes back off at White Oaks. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement, and he was really looking forward to a shower considering the copious amount of sex juices his body had acquired over the past few hours.

He didn't hear JT crying as he made his way through the foyer. Peeking into the living room, he noticed he was asleep in his bassinet.

Thank the Lord. Maybe I'll actually get some sleep.

No sooner than he'd had that thought, he rounded the corner into the kitchen and noticed Amara sitting on the floor next to the fridge. Her legs were bent, her arms wrapped around her knees, and she was crying.

Immediately at her side, he sat next to her and slid an arm around her shoulder as she leaned over and let herself fall against him. He wrapped his other arm around the front of her body and hugged her as she wept. "It's OK. I'm here. I'm here, Mar."

He held her, allowing her to cry for as long as she needed to. After a few minutes, she sat up and wiped her face, and he let her go. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. What's the matter? What do you need?"

She shook her head. "I'm…fine."

"Mar, you're crying on the kitchen floor in fuzzy penguin pajamas. You're the opposite of fine. What's wrong?"

"I'm…Ryan, I'm fine."

He got up off the floor. "I'm gonna go get Jake, OK?"

"No. Please don't. Just…"

"Then talk to me, Amara." He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet. As soon as she was standing, she fell forward into his arms again, and he wrapped his arms around her back. Guilt washed over him, as having her in his arms like this again caused his cock to take notice.

Oh, for fuck's sake, dick. Will you calm the fuck down already? You came three times today and you're gay.

"I…don't know what to do anymore," she murmured.

"What do you mean?" he asked, kissing the top of her head. "About what?"

She unloaded, pacing back and forth and raking her fingers through her hair. "I don't think…I can do this. I made a huge mistake. I'm not…I can't do this. I'm so shitty, Ryan. I'm such a shitty mother, girlfriend, friend. I can't…it's all just too much."

Ryan took a deep breath. "So, I'm not sure what you're talking about, but all of that is bullshit. You? Are an amazing mother. You've been sleeping next to that little boy on a couch for weeks to make sure you're there the second he needs you. And you're doing it so your boyfriend can get some sleep since he's still working.

"And as for friends? You took me into your home without even a second thought, despite all of the shit we've been through. And there was quite a bit, if you recall. So Mar? I'm not sure what you're talking about, but you're killing it just about everywhere."

She sat down at one of the kitchen island stools, resting her head in her hands, Ryan leaning onto the countertop across from her. "You…Mar, have you talked to Jake about how you're feeling?"

She shook her head, not looking up. "He's…busy with the business. I can't bother him with this."

"Um, he's your boyfriend and the father of your child. You're not bothering him with anything. Amara, you're not…you're not OK."

"How's Ty?" she asked, promptly changing the subject.

"He's fine. He went for…a little walk, but he's back there now. Also, um, maybe don't drive the Wagoneer until I've had a chance to get it detailed, and I owe you another baby blanket and a pack of wipes. It's, um, just better if you don't ask."

"Jesus, Ryan," she laughed briefly, her smile fading. "And Ty. I haven't been there for Ty at all. We haven't even talked. Aside from a few pictures of JT I've sent him, we've barely spoken."

"That might be because I told him not to bother you," Ryan admitted. "I know you've been stressed and he needs to focus on his recovery right now. You two can rekindle your friendship later, but right now? You've both got enough on your own plates. You don't need to worry about Ty. You know he's a warrior. He's killing it, too."

She nodded and kept talking. "I don't feel right, Ry. I'm just…nothing feels right anymore and all I do is cry. I get mad at my son for crying all the time. I get mad at a fucking newborn baby." She scoffed. "How pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic at all. You're human, Mar, and this is all new to you. But you also need to recognize that you might, like, need some help. I think you need to talk to Jake and figure out if maybe it's medicine, counseling, or whatever you need, but you need help. You can't keep going like this."

"He's busy, Ry…"

"Stop saying that. He's not too busy for his girlfriend and his kid, Amara. I don't…my practice isn't until 4 p.m. tomorrow. Go upstairs and sleep next to your boyfriend in your own bed, OK? I'll…I got JT for the night. He likes me better than you anyway," Ryan said with a wink, watching as her face sank. "OK, so that was a joke. A bad one, but I'm a fucking idiot, so there's that. Seriously." He pointed toward the stairs as she looked at him. "Go."

She got up and walked over to him, grabbing his face gently with both hands and turning it toward hers. She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, letting her lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. "Thank you, Ry," she said gently as she began to head upstairs.

Down, boy.

"Mar?" he called after her, and she turned back to face him. "Promise me you'll talk to him about getting some help?"

She barely nodded, avoiding eye contact and going up to her room.

He knew that wouldn't be the last of this conversation, but at the moment all he wanted to do was try to pass out for a few minutes before JT started screaming again.

And no sooner than he had that thought, he heard him beginning to whimper. "Awesome," he groaned, throwing his head back. He went to the kitchen, made up a bottle for him, and heated it up in the warmer before heading into the living room. He passed Baylor on the way there, who was lying not too far from the bassinet. He looked up wearily at Ryan as he walked by.

"Tell me about it," Ryan said, as he set the bottle onto the end table and picked JT up. "You, sir, are a hot mess. And I can say that because I am, too. You gotta get your shit together, my dude. Your mom is doing her best."

He had a seat in the rocker, positioned the little baby in his arms, reached for the bottle, placed it in his mouth, and sighed, relieved at the silence. Baylor came over and poked his nose around in Ryan's arms, making sure everything was on the up and up. "He's fine. I got him, buddy," Ryan said, gently pushing the dog away and looking back down at JT.

Loud and annoying or not, he sure did love this little guy already.

"What are we gonna do with you, huh? You're mouthy, just like your Uncle Ty. You know that? You two are gonna get along great," Ryan said, closing his eyes briefly and mentally running down the list of things he currently had to worry about.

The fact that Hayes snuck out of rehab and may have jeopardized his recovery efforts.

The fact that Hayes still wanted to fuck around with TK and had proposed they share him.

The fact that he wanted to.

God, did he want to.

The fact that he'd just fucked his straight teammate, who he'd have to see every single day.

The fact that Amara was clearly going through some sort of postpartum depression.

All of those should have had him in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

But he wasn't.

Maybe there's hope for you yet, Baylor.