CHAPTER TEN

The following day, Dom gritted his teeth as he unlaced his skates after practice. The pain was worse than ever.

He'd pivoted during a drill, something he'd done a thousand times before, and felt a flare of pain that had made his head swim and his vision go white.

He'd recovered quickly enough, but apparently Dustin had noticed.

"Hey, are you okay?" Dustin asked under his breath.

"Back's bugging me. I'll see Eddie in a bit," he said shortly.

Dustin gave him a long, searching look, then nodded.

So Dom went through the usual song and dance with the trainer and team doc, finally admitting how bad it was and that he was feeling numbness and tingling too. Which meant it was more than a muscle issue. Nerves were involved.

He reluctantly agreed to get some testing done when they were back in Toronto.

On the bus back to the hotel, Dustin turned in his seat. "You want to go out to lunch? Nico, Jonah, Felix, and Matty and I are meeting up with some of the guys from Evanston."

"Yeah? Who?" Dom asked, glancing up from his phone.

"Theriault, Walsh, O'Shea, and Underhill. Plus a couple of the retired guys."

"Let me guess," Dom said drily. "Murphy, Hartinger, and Lindholm?"

Dustin gave him a rueful grin. "You nailed it."

"Yeah, no I'll skip that," Dom said in a low voice. "I'm not trying to be a dick but the last thing I need right now is to be photographed with that crew. They're great guys and ordinarily I wouldn't hesitate but …"

Dustin nodded, understanding.

Truly, it would be idiotic for Dom to be spotted out with a group of exclusively LGBTQ+ players. If it was more of a mixed group, that was one thing, but right now, he couldn't risk it.

"Sorry, man." Dom gave him a weak smile.

Dustin clapped him on the shoulder. "It's all good."

The day dragged.

Dom could hardly focus on the TV while he ate lunch in his hotel room alone, his head foggy from pain.

He got an ice pack from Eddie, who gave him a concerned look he brushed off. In his room again, he stripped down to his underwear and collapsed gratefully onto the bed.

He spotted the tin of salve where he'd left it on the nightstand this morning and rubbed some of it in.

Christ, this was getting bad.

He found his phone, thankful he'd tossed it on the bed when he arrived, and brought up the message from Shea he still hadn't replied to.

He should. Shea didn't deserve to be ignored, but although Dom typed out a few responses, he wound up deleting them all before he sent them.

He wasn't okay but it felt like putting it all into words would somehow make it worse. He was afraid Shea would name the thing he feared.

But slowly the salve made his muscles unclench, the tension in him easing until he drifted off to sleep.

Dom awoke to pounding on his door.

He stumbled from the bed, yelping when a flash of pain spread down his thigh.

He fumbled to unlock the door, pulled it open, and squinted at Matty in confusion. "What?" he rasped, rubbing his face.

"Team's doing dinner and games at that Italian place, remember?"

"Oh right," Dom said. "Sorry, I almost forgot."

"Well, c'mon," Matty said. "Hurry up. Clothes on and out the door in ten!"

Dom glared half-heartedly as he walked toward his suitcase for fresh underwear. "You're such a fucking dad ."

Matty beamed. "I know, right?"

Dom shook his head at Matty taking the chirp as a compliment but the truth was, Dom had never seen Matty so happy.

A few weeks ago, he'd done a big brunch for the team and he'd had baby Reese strapped to his back in one of those little harness things while he showed Eli how to flip pancakes and he supervised Alexis showing River how to use a butter knife to cut strawberries.

He was totally in his element raising four kids with Antoni.

Dom was happy for him, but it was funny the way it was beginning to bleed out into his interactions with the team. Dom was waiting for Matty to start cutting up a rookie's steak for him or something.

Honestly, he hoped it happened. It would be prime chirping material.

Dinner was at an Italian bistro that also offered bowling and bocce ball.

Odd combination, and Dom had been skeptical going into the whole thing, but the food was surprisingly delicious.

He ate a huge kale salad and a lobster flatbread that made him think of the seafood tower he'd shared with Shea, Ethan, and Myles.

He considered texting Shea to tell him about it but the longer he sat, the more his back ached. Plus, he still didn't know how to answer Shea about how he was doing if he asked, so he kept his phone in his pocket.

The team was in a good mood, laughing and joking, but the conversation seemed to float around Dom without ever touching him.

Despite tiramisu being one of his favorite desserts, he skipped ordering it, mentally willing the team to finish their meal so he could get up and move .

Dom slipped the waitress his card before dessert was over, paying for dinner for the entire team. It wasn't unheard of for the veterans to spring for a night out, but mostly he didn't want to deal with everyone paying individually or playing the credit card game to see who got stuck with the bill.

Both would take too long.

Dom sighed with relief when he was standing and the walk to the games area helped loosen some of the tension and ease the throbbing pain.

Dustin had reserved a bocce court and two bowling lanes and Dom wasn't sure which would feel worse.

Both were horribly painful.

The ride back to the hotel wasn't any better, and Dom was more than ready for a shower and to rub some salve on the aching spot and pass out immediately.

Unfortunately, Dustin and Matty shouldered their way into his room.

Once the door closed, Dom crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow at them. "What?"

"What's wrong with you?" Matty demanded. "Something's off."

"Nothing. My back is acting up," he grumbled.

"Did you actually talk to a trainer?" Dustin asked.

"Yes! And to Dr. Strickland."

"And?"

"And they don't know anything for sure. I'll have to do some tests when we're back in Toronto."

Dustin's dark brows drew together. "What do they think it might be?"

Dom pursed his lips. "I don't know."

A part of him knew what it could be but he'd been doing his damndest to avoid thinking about it.

"Are you out of the game tomorrow?"

"Not that I've been told."

"You should be."

"Yeah, well, I'll let you know if that happens," he snapped.

"Hey, guys, are we going to watch a movie or not?" Matty asked, sitting on the end of the bed, remote in hand.

"I don't know, are we?" Dom asked since apparently no one was bothering to ask him if he even wanted to.

"Yes." Dustin said, kicking off his shoes and getting comfortable on the bed.

"It's my turn to pick," Matty said, selecting some stupid action movie before anyone could protest. Dom was about ninety-eight percent sure that wasn't true but he was too tired to argue.

So he changed into sweats and rubbed a little of the salve on his back.

"What's that?" Dustin asked as Dom tossed the tin in his suitcase.

"Something I got from a PT," he said vaguely. "It helps a little."

Dom grabbed the ice pack he'd used earlier from the mini fridge freezer, then settled on the bed beside Dustin.

He carefully propped himself against the pillows with the ice pack strategically placed where he needed it most, remembering when Shea had done it for him.

Matty hit Play, then stretched across the foot of the bed on his stomach, arms bent, cheek resting on his hands.

"Dude, move it. I can't see over your giant ass," Dom grumbled, prodding at Matty's hip with his foot and immediately regretting it when pain flared again.

"Well, stop staring at my ass!" Matty teased.

"It's the size of a planet. It's pretty fucking hard to avoid," Dom pointed out.

They squabbled for a few moments until Dustin told them both to shut it and they watched the movie in silence for a few minutes.

"So what do I owe the pleasure of this evening's activities to?" Dom asked drily. "We haven't done this in a long time. The three of us."

Truthfully, with both Dustin and Matty in happy relationships, they usually disappeared into their rooms to Skype with their husbands.

"We're worried about you," Matty said.

Dom snorted. "Why?"

"Because you've been isolating yourself," Dustin said. "More than usual. And that's saying something."

"I haven't …" Dom hesitated. Goddamn it. "I guess I have a little bit. Sorry."

After that, a big explosion on the screen distracted them all and, thankfully, they got sucked into the movie.

He was yawning partway through though—action movies never his favorite—and as the pain faded a little, tiredness crept in.

He nodded off a few times and then he must have actually slept because he woke when the bed jostled and the door closed.

"Sorry." He rubbed his eyes and squinted at Dustin. The credits were rolling and the foot of the bed was empty so Matty must have left. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's fine. Matty had to call Antoni."

"You should call Charlie too probably, yeah?"

"Charlie is currently at Taylor's. Probably getting shitfaced." Dustin's grin was fond. "I'll either not hear from him at all or I'll get a dozen dirty pictures and pouty messages begging me to come over and fuck him."

"Oh, he flew in too?" Dom yawned.

When Dustin was in the city playing, Charlie often came home to visit his best friend, Taylor Hollis, and see Taylor's family.

"Yeah. They're coming to tomorrow's game in Evanston."

"Nice."

Dom waited for Dustin to get up too, but he stayed right where he was, his face illuminated by the glow of the TV screen and a lamp in the corner of the room.

"So, really, how are you doing?" Dustin glanced over.

Dom squinted tiredly at him. "I told you. My back hurts but I won't know anything until they run tests."

"I meant with the situation with your stylist."

"Oh." Dom tried to remember if Dustin knew his name was actually Shea.

Christ, why was everything so complicated?

"Uh, I mean, I wish the gossip sites would find more interesting things to fucking talk about but there's not much I can do at this point."

"Because you haven't seemed like yourself lately," Dustin pressed.

"Yeah, I know. I'm surprised you haven't said anything to me about the situation until now," Dom said, pulling the now warm and useless icepack away and tossing it on the nightstand.

Dustin scoffed, reaching for the remote and scrolling through the options on the TV. "I learned that lesson years ago. You share shit when you're ready and attempting to pry anything out of you will only make you clam up further."

Dom managed a faint smile, sliding so he lay flat on his back, knees pointed at the ceiling. His back didn't feel good, but the pain wasn't agonizing at the moment. "You know me well."

"Not really," Dustin said, selecting something. "But I know how you operate."

Dom winced, staring at the ceiling. "I don't mean to be so closed off."

"Hey, I know." Dustin patted his thigh. "I don't take it personally, man. I hope you always know you can talk to me whenever you want to."

"I do know that." Dom shifted, restless but still tired.

They fell silent, the TV playing softly in the background.

"Sh—Sawyer is, uh, more than my stylist," Dom finally offered. He hoped Dustin knew him as Sawyer. At this point, he had no idea who he'd told what.

"I kinda figured." Dustin's voice was very soft.

"I mean, it's not serious. We're not dating. It's …"

"Yeah, I figured that too."

Dom swallowed. "But it's been weird lately."

"Weird how?"

"Well, after the fire and all of the speculation started, Kate came up with the whole ‘bro dates' thing."

"Is that what we're calling it?" Dustin's voice was laced with humor.

"Well, you know." Dom waved his arm. "PR bullshit and all that."

Dustin laughed. "I am familiar."

"It was supposed to make the speculation die down."

"Not so much?"

"No. Not so much."

"Damn." Dustin shifted. "So now what?"

"I don't know."

"And coming out is off the table for you."

"Yes." Dom's throat went tight at the thought.

"Okay."

"I'm not you, D."

"Obviously. You're not as handsome."

"Fuck you," Dom said, laughing. "You've either been spending too much time with Nico or Charlie or both because your ego is out of control."

"Probably both," Dustin said, chuckling too. "Anyway, you're not me."

Dom rolled his head to the side and looked at his captain. "I'm not … It doesn't feel good to me to tell people."

"Hey, no one says you have to come out."

Dom knuckled at his eyes. "Honestly, I feel like everyone's saying it. Like they're saying there's something wrong with me if I don't want that."

Dustin fell silent for a moment. "I think everyone should have a right to privacy about their sexuality and be able to choose for themselves if and when they share. But being public figures … we don't always get that privilege."

"That's shitty and unfair."

"Yeah, it is. I understand why people—fans—get curious about our lives but there should be a line and … there isn't."

Dom nodded.

"And I'm sorry you're feeling pressured. I'm sorry you're feeling forced to be open about things you don't want to be open about, but even if we take the public out of the equation, Dom … you're not even talking to your team. To Matty and me! We love you and we want to support you and you still won't talk to us about what you're going through. Privacy from the public is one thing but you have to admit, you take it to extremes."

Dom huffed, looking back at the ceiling. "Maybe. Probably."

"And you do it with everything . You're hurting now, and what did you do? You isolated."

Dom grumbled. "Can't a guy like being alone?"

"Sure. He can. But do you ? Do you actually like it? Or do you think you, I don't know, don't deserve to have anyone be there for you? Do you feel like you can't trust us to be there for you?"

"No, I trust you," Dom said automatically.

"Do you? Do you really feel like if something terrible happened, you'd come to me or Matty? Or would you handle it alone and then get grumpy about it and grudgingly admit what's going on after we learn about it and tell you we want to help?"

Dom grimaced. He couldn't deny that what Dustin described sounded awfully familiar.

" Exactly ." Dustin gave him a pointed look. "It's fine to be private. It's fine to be independent, but consider the idea that anything taken to too much of an extreme is not great. And ask yourself if it's actually working for you."

Dom nodded. "I will."

"I hope so. And look, I'm not trying to pry or ask you to give any of us more than you're willing. I just don't want to see you totally close yourself off. That's all."

"I know. You're a good captain, D."

"I'd like to think I'm more than that," Dustin said softly. "I'd like to think that I'm your friend."

Dom opened his mouth to protest, to say that of course Dustin was his friend, but he felt a pang when he realized that it didn't matter how he felt about it. It mattered how Dustin did. And clearly, he didn't feel like he was Dom's friend.

Like he valued him.

"What do I do?" Dom asked. "How do I … how do I make you feel like you are?"

Dustin blew out a heavy breath. "Well, you're gonna hate this, but it does involve opening up. And making yourself vulnerable."

Dom made a face. Damn it, why did it always come down to that ?

"Told you that you'd hate it."

They fell silent for a moment.

"I'm going to tell you something," Dustin said. "Something very few people know about."

"Okay," Dom said warily, because Dustin was a pretty open guy with the team. He couldn't imagine what kind of secrets he had.

"When Charlie and I woke up in Vegas after our marriage, he hated my guts."

Dom blinked, shifting onto one elbow to stare at Dustin, ignoring the flare of pain in his back. "What the hell?"

"Charlie is … complicated. He's been through a lot."

"Well, yeah, clearly. I mean, his parents are a piece of work and the anorexia …"

"I didn't know about any of that at the time. Charlie and I—we hadn't dated at all before that night. We—we made a bet in Vegas and we got drunk and flirted and there was a connection but it wasn't … it wasn't love ."

"So it was some drunken stupidity?"

"Pretty much. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was completely smitten with him but the feeling wasn't exactly mutual."

"So why did he marry you?"

"Because he was lonely and sad and wanted someone to love. I think I gave him the attention he needed at that moment. He felt safe—to some degree—and it was enough to make him let down his guard long enough for us to say, ‘I Do'. Plus, you know, the large quantities of alcohol didn't hurt."

Dom let out a strangled noise of laughter. "But Charlie regretted the marriage the next day?"

"Yes."

"So why'd he stay married to you then?"

Dustin huffed. "I bribed him."

Blinking, Dom turned to look at him. "You what ?"

"Yeah, I know." Dustin's smile was rueful. "I was desperate though. I mean, I did want to keep him in my life but also, the code of conduct hadn't passed yet and if I fucked up in a big, public way, it was just going to give the detractors ammunition against me."

Dom sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit, I hadn't thought about that."

"Right?" Dustin gave him a rueful look.

"So you paid him?"

"Yeah. Charlie had a lot of debt from his anorexia hospitalizations—"

"Fucking America," Dom said, disgusted. "Your country's healthcare system is a joke."

"I know." Dustin sighed. "But Charlie needed money and I had plenty of it. So Wade and I talked him into staying married to me."

"But you love each other now, right?" Dustin pressed. Because if the way they looked at each other, if the way they interacted now, was fake, Dom was going to have to admit that he had no idea what love was.

And that Dustin had missed his calling and should have been an A-level actor instead of a pro hockey player.

"Absolutely! We're madly in love now. But do you want to know what took us from a fake relationship to real, lasting love?"

"No." Though Dom could guess what the answer was going to be.

"Communication. Vulnerability ."

Dom rubbed his hands across his face. "Ugh, I was afraid you were going to say that."

Dustin huffed. "Look, I'm not saying it was easy. I had to open up to Charlie about my worries about the team and never feeling good enough, and that I'm not doing enough for you guys—"

"What the hell?" Dom looked at him. "You're … you're the most considerate, thoughtful, involved captain I've ever had!"

"Knowing your former captains … that doesn't surprise me. But that also makes it a rather low bar."

Dustin wasn't necessarily wrong.

"Anyway, I have made some mistakes. Like with La Bouche. And yes, it all worked out but I could have cost us that Cup win in ‘21, Dom. If I'd let my ego continue to—"

"Well, you didn't."

"I didn't. But either way, it was something I was very unhappy about and I didn't share that with anyone. But sharing that with Charlie made him comfortable enough to share the abuse from his mom and the neglect from his dad and the anorexia. It was a huge turning point for us. It was when we went from being two people who stayed married for a common cause to two people who were building a real relationship."

"Huh."

"If you're fine with where all of the relationships in your life are, then don't change anything you're doing. But I don't think that's the case for you, Dom. I think you want to be closer to people. You just don't trust that they won't betray you."

Dom swallowed thickly. "Well, you know why."

"I do. And your ex was an asshole. Threatening to out you, that's unconscionable."

"I hurt Christian too. Not coming out … making him feel like I was ashamed of him …"

"I'm sure you did. But that doesn't excuse what he did. He had the option to end the relationship without retaliating."

Dom stayed silent.

"I'm just saying, you have perfectly valid reasons for being closed off. But if you want the relationships in your life to be better, you have to work on that. You have to risk being hurt again."

Dom nodded, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what he even wanted.

Dustin patted his thigh. "For what it's worth, you took the first step with Matty and me last fall. And tonight's good too."

"I guess."

Dom stared up at the ceiling. He didn't feel good at the moment. Throbbing pain aside, he felt churned up, body roiling with tension and anger and a whole lot of other things he wasn't even sure how to name.